The Burning Ones Ch. 01

She glanced up at the clock. Break was over. Wolfing down the last of her paltry sandwich, she tossed the wrapper neatly into the bin and headed out of the staff pantry.

"Let's roll out before 18/1 starts driving the juniors nuts and nobody will go home on time again!" she hollered behind her. Her colleagues groaned and laughed in agreement.

"But El, you've barely sat down for 15 minutes. Surely the patients can wait. No one's gonna die on your watch, but you will if you don't take care of yourself," remarked one of the other senior nurses as they filed out of their sanctuary.

She scrunched her face at her and laughed, "Don't jinx us please! I'm alright sweetie. Patients first, right?"

The other nurse gave a sigh of disapproval and resignment, but deep down, El knew she was right. At 25, she was too young to surrender her life to strangers, especially not when most of them were thankless about that nice cup of tea, or even when she had literally saved their lives. But what else could she do then? Her parents were gone, wretchedly taken from her before she had learned how to walk, and she was an only child. Miraculously, she had broken the mould of being an orphan in the system and had managed to pave a successful life for herself, completing her nursing degree and rising up quickly through the ranks. She was content with a small circle of friends and never really thought much about dating. None of the guys she had come across had come close to being attractive in her books. None except one.

El was about to slip into a daydream when a flurry of activity at her nursing counter snapped her back to reality.

"18/1 is at it again. He demands that he goes home now because some demons are after him. That's really creepy if you ask me. What should we do now? Should we give halo?" One of the junior nurses anxiously filled in those who returned from lunch break.

"I'll page the doctors to see if we can get him some of that, as well as physical restraints, if he does get violent. You know he nearly ran off last week. In the meantime, let's try to calm him as best as we can." The air of confidence and command that El had was enough to mollify the juniors, and they streamed after her into the cubicle.

She smiled sweetly at the grandfatherly figure seated at the edge of the bed. His hair was dishevelled and his snowy beard had trapped some biscuit crumbs. "Hi Mr Anson, how are we today?"

"Hullo El, not good, not good..." he muttered gravely. "They are coming. We should not be here." He clenched and unclenched both hands into prayer, knuckles turning red from the friction.

She gently put her hand around his shoulder. "Who's coming?"

He stared at the floor, continuing his conversation to himself. El ducked to catch a glimpse of his face and saw that his features were starting to get intense. But at least he wasn't shouting or thrashing about. What was he saying about the end, burning and demons from hell?

When she realised that he was not going to reply, she worked quickly to ease him back to bed and put the bedrails up. She checked that the potassium chloride drip was running well before turning on her heels and stalking her way out.

Stopping in front of the phone, she deftly picked up the receiver and dialled a number that was now automatic to her fingers. She tried two more times before slamming the handset back down. In the distance, she could hear 18/1 now raising his voice at the nursing assistant.

"Dammit, where's Dr Devon when you need him?" she growled to no one in particular, "I'm going to go look for him."

She thought that he might be in his office or still lingering in the canteen, which were both at level 2, so she walked briskly to the lift lobby and jabbed the button. Every lift that came was full. El huffed off further down the corridor, winding deeper in and found herself in front of the stairwell. I'm going to give him a piece of my mind when I find him, doctor or not. Without hesitation, she pushed through the door.

The vision of two figures pressed up against the wall one level below her arrested her movements. She quickly wedged her orthopaedic shoe between the door and the frame to stop it from slamming. Assaulted by the view and the contented moans, she could not bring herself to avert her eyes.

Even from the back, El knew it was him, the person she was looking for. She had spent the last few weeks studying the stiff copper hair that grazed his collar at the nape, the way his muscles bunched up underneath his ubiquitous office shirt, his shapely buttocks that were now on full display in front of her. She held her breath as she observed his hips gliding back and forth, eliciting loud gasps from the lithe body to his front. She closed her eyes and bit her lips as a rush of moist warmth flooded her panties.

He had both hands firmly planted on the wall, pinning the girl with his steadily increasing pace. El watched intently, her cheeks and heart burning with shame. After what seemed like an eternity, he grunted triumphantly one last time and swiftly detached himself from the wall. El slipped back through the door, closing it as softly as she could, then took off for the nearest staff toilet. As she gripped the sides of the sink, she released a heavy sigh, taking away some, but not most, of the sexual tension still within her. She looked up at the mirror.

Elethea Simmons. Nurse extraordinaire. Protector of life, yet having none of her own. She was pretty, in a way that would often induce second glances, but not second dates. El studied herself in the mirror and wondered which of her features could have made her more outstanding. Was she failed by her boring dark brown eyes? Or was it the pixie nose? Maybe it was the almost jet-black hair that scared potential suitors off. She had once been told that she had a resting bitch-face. Maybe that was why Devon never noticed her. Or did he? At times, she had thought that he was flirting with her, but she had put that down to his natural charm. But he did brush his hand on your butt that day, didn't he? She furrowed her brows and tried to make sense of the turmoil in her mind.

She patted some cold water over her face and toweled off the rest of her self-deprecation. Time to get back to work.

***

El hurried back to the nursing station attempting to look as unflustered as she could, keeping her head up but avoiding eye contact where possible. A male voice rang loudly over the relative silence, punctuated by other calm female voices.

"Did you find Dr Devon?" one of the juniors asked. Yes, and more...

"No, he might have been needed somewhere else." I need him. Now. Anywhere. Like in that stairwell..."I'll keep trying to page hi-"

"-sorry for the delay. What can I do for you?"

El spun around to see Devon cutting around the corner, heading straight for the trolley of notes. She clenched her jaws to calm herself, vaguely wondering whether he had washed his hands yet. Her train of thought threatened to tumble down a moist, warm, electrifying path but she firmly pushed it away and tucked it in a recess of her mind for later use.

"Dr Devon, Mr Anson in 18/1 is having hallucinations again. This time it's about demons and fire of some sort. I suggest we administer haloperidol and physical restraints," she firmly replied.

He looked at her thoughtfully while flipping through the notes, about to say something when loud shouting and a cacophonous clatter of metal interrupted him. They spun on their heels and ran towards the room.

Patient 18/1 was frantically scanning his surroundings, voice getting shriller and sharper. "The demons! They're coming! Oh the end of the world as we know it! Where is God and his heavenly guardians?? Why is he not protecting us??" He scrambled through the small gap in the bedrails.

When he caught sight of Dr Devon, his eyes widened visibly and something in him snapped. "YOU! You have arrived!! PREPARE FOR HOLY BATTLE!!" He deftly twisted to draw an object from under his pillow and leapt off the bed.

The next few events unravelled within split-seconds, but to El, it was as if time slowed down. The demented old man raised his right arm up high as he charged forward with a delirious battlecry. El countered by sweeping Devon protectively behind her, hands intuitively reaching up to grab his thin bony wrists. He was strong for an elderly man, or perhaps it was the adrenaline fuelled by his crazed state. His arm swung down, cleanly sliding the needle between her breastbone and ribs, piercing her heart. He plunged the syringe down.

El saw that the syringe had been filled with a colourless liquid, possibly nothing, and she sensed a glimmer of hope. She would survive, albeit with serious complications. But then she spotted the bag of potassium chloride swinging from its stand like a noose from a tree, a large colourless pool at its base, and knew that this was her end. Well, at least it'll be painless.

Her hands clawed uselessly at the old man. She heard gasps and screams. She looked, but she could not see.

Then everything turned black and silent.