Pity of an Angel 2
#2 of Pity of an Angel
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Disclaimer- this section of this story contains mild language and violence. If you are offended by this concept, don't, I won't be held accountable for your decisions or any psychological damage this story causes. Pretty much the same thing for the rest, characters are copyrighted, any resemblance this story and/or its characters may show towards anything or anyone is purely coincidental; and you know the deal with e-mailing me.
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Pity of an angel
-2-
The sweet sounds of birds chirping happily drifted into Sindain's room through an open window, a heavenly tone that ensured a calm setting for the hospital, helping heal those who wish to listen.
"Nurse," Sindain asked, rolling over in bed and facing the wall, "shut the damn window"
She turned and looked at him and sighed, setting down his lunch tray. "I rather enjoy those cute little birds singing away." She said, doing as he asked and shutting the window.
"ya, sure... when am I getting out of here?" he asked.
"I don't know, you'll have to ask the doctor." She said, rolling a tray out of the small white room. Sindain rolled over onto his back, staring at the ceiling as the door closed behind her. A few minutes had passed before the doctor stepped in; Sindain just stayed put.
"Aw, Mr. Decker, you're looking well this fine afternoon." A soothing, somewhat familiar voice said. He tilted his head to see a wolf standing at the foot of his bed, flipping through papers on her clipboard. He sat up, leaning against the headboard as she walked around the bed. She sat her clipboard on his nightstand and took her little stethoscope from her neck and put it on, then placed her paw on his chest with the disk up into his fur, leaning in close to him. "breath in, please... " she said, and he did, "and out... you know, you're quite the popular one around here... " she said, moving the disk across his chest as he exhaled. "again." He breathed in and held. "And release."
"Oh? Why's that?" he asked, breathing in again as she repositioned the disk, smelling a little bit of her scent as he held it in.
"Well, you were dead when you came in, all cut up. We tried everything to get you back, but you just wouldn't respond... and out." She said, "you pretty much went straight down to the morgue after that, sat down there for four hours. Then, for no reason, you wake up... " she said, her paw passing back across his chest "and to add to that, you scared the shit out of Dr. Jainkins." She said, smiling at him, "it's rather hard to scare him like that."
"Well, I'm glad I nearly gave someone a heart attack." He said, looking down as her paw pressed against him, he was at the perfect level to the v cut of her coat, showing her cleavage of her luscious breasts, and pinned right next to the opening was her nametag. 'Dr. Lee' with 'Karin' scratched above and between the two words. He looked up and met her eyes, he cringed, knowing she saw him check her tits out; she just smiled at him.
"Heh, why do you think I put the tag there at least you guys would know my name," She said and laughed, "Once more.." He made a slight uneasy chuckle back.
"heh... " he said and breathed in.
"...and out" she said, removing the disk from his chest and wrapping the tool of hers back around her neck as he breathed out, then jotting some things down.
"Might I ask when I'll be getting out of here?" He asked as she walked back to the foot of the bed and clipped the sheet of paper to the clipboard hooked to the bed.
"Aw, you wanna leave already? According to your records, you seem to like this place" she said, grinning and pulling up a chair to his side and setting down. "Three visits in the past year? And all for attempted suicide. Wonder why you weren't sent to an asylum." She said, lifting up a few pages.
"Guess I'm just unlucky." He smirked.
She looked up at him, unable to tell if he was kidding. " asphyxiation while sitting in a car... lucky you fell over onto the garage door opener... strangulation by a noose... says the rope snapped... and... well, this one's quite nasty."
"ya, well, if I had it at the right angle, I would have blown my brains out instead of some of my teeth." He said, rubbing the side of his face.
"and you missed your jaw entirely... seems someone doesn't want you to die" she said, patting him on the head. He pulled away slightly.
"hey, I was dead this time, but I was.."
"you did it wrong" she said, interrupting him.
"What?"
She picked up his paw and turned it over, showing a bandage wrapped around his wrist where blade had passed, then ran her claw up his wrist.
"You slit your wrist up towards your palm, not across." She motioned her paw back down his arm, he just watched her, "if you don't, you just bleed, do it right and you sever an artery." She said, looking up at him and smiling.
"And this coming from a doctor." he said, taking his paw back. She laughed and playfully punched his arm.
"Look, you're a cute little otter, cuter then any of my other patients, and I don't want to have to perform an autopsy on you the next time you try and kill yourself and actually succeed, besides, why do you want to die so badly?" She asked, standing up and heading for the door.
"I have my reasons... " he replied.
"Aw, the whole 'I have reasons' bit, huh? Tell me..." she said, turning around and leaning against the doorway, "are any of these 'reasons' good?" He hesitated, staring blankly at the wall.
"Perhaps two are good enough." He said.
She turned around, "ya, right... you should remember that what ever happened, happened in the past, no need to dwell on it now." she said and he looked back up at her; she smiled to him over her shoulder, "here's the deal, you promise to me you'll keep from killing yourself, and I'll give you a nice, long sponge bath tomorrow, how's that?" she asked.
He grinned, "that's some pretty cheep blackmail."
She laughed. "ya, I know."
It's dark again. His eyes open to an endless nothing, no longer does he lay in the comfert of his bed, but on his knees on the ground. He looks up to a light that glares on him as he kneels. "where am i... why's it so hot..." he asks, blocking the light with his paw. A sharp pain crosses his wrist, and a single drop of blood falls onto his face. Over his wrist, across the scar, he bleeds. He brings his paw down and looks at it. "my paws... they bleed again..." he whispers, grabbing his wrist. "stop " But it doesn't, only more of his blood spills to the floor. "stop, damn it... Stop!" From his stomach, a hole emerges, spilling blood to join the rest that surrounds him. He cups his paws against his gut and screams. "I didn't do it! Stop bleeding! I have no knife, I didn't cut myself! Why do I bleed again?!"
From the darkness, a figure steps forth into the light, its body covered in a massive robe and its eyes a piercing red from under its hood. The otter looks up at it. "Who are you?" He asks, but it says nothing, every step it takes closer to him echoes throughout the void, he began to push away as it approached. "Do you make me bleed again?" The otter asks, but the figure still stays silent, its only response is raising an old wooden pole out before him. "What the ?!" the figure slams the pole into the ground with a loud clunk and a long, rusty, curved blade quickly slides out from the bottom end.
"No! Put that away!! Get it away from me!! No more knives!!" he cries. The figure turns the scythe upright, then holds it to its side. The otter pushes back faster. "No! Don't!"
It swings.
The sharp blade rips through the otter's throat, splattering his blood to the ground. He gasps, gripping at his throat and gagging, tears streaming down his face and his blood pouring through his fingers. The figure pulls the scythe back around and slams the back of the blade into his newly slit throat, knocking him down and crushing him against the ground. The otter grabs the blade, trying to push it off. The figure steps over him, placing its foot on the blade, right over the struggling otter; the sharp blade cuts into the padding of its foot and its blood flows forth, blood as black as a moonless night. The otter squirms as it seeps over the rusty metal towards his slit throat.
"...two days, Sindain " the figure says softly, its eyes glairing into his as its blood flows over his throat and into him. He looks to his wrist, his blood still runs red, then, it slowly turns black. He coughs, spitting up more black that rains down upon him. He cries aloud as his blood around him converts, the red disappearing as the black spreads from the outside in, he squirms under the pressure of the blade, his tail wrapping around the figures leg. He looks up at it, the light around them fades away, and he sobs uncontrollably, kicking with his feet, his throat gurgling as his lungs fill with blood.
"...two more days... "
The otter sits up fast in a cold sweat, breathing hard and tears running down the side of his face as he looks frantically about the dark room, feeling his throat. Still in the hospital. Still in his bed. He bites his wrist till he tastes blood and holds it into the light of the moon that pours in through the window. Red. He pulls his legs close and scoots back up against the headboard, burring his face in between his knees as he silently weeps.