Vladislaus Draculea, Voivode (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
selfmadevampire) wrote2015-04-24 10:23 pm
selfmadevampire) wrote2015-04-24 10:23 pm
Entry tags:
Unexpected Recovery
The night was brutally hot, even inside the hospital. Humans sweated all around him, walking around in little moist clouds of body odor. Lazslo Florescu made his way down the hall of the ward purposefully, his black leather jacket and unkempt shoulder-length hair putting him in sharp contrast to the hospital workers around him.
A woman lay in a coma, having been shot in the head at her own wedding. Lazslo would have found this a tragic footnote had he not walked in on the scene as the corpses were cooling. He managed to salvage the man he had come for, even with a bullet in his head. But when Rufus told him the woman's story, he had determined to find her. He wasn't the kindest of men, but his sense of justice was deeply troubled by this.
It took him months to find her, and he could only fully verify it by comparing her scent to the blood-crusted blond strands he had gathered at the scene. Now, he was following his nose down the hall, drawing nearer to the source.
He found her room, but paused, watching a beefy orderly talking in low tones with another man. He sharpened his hearing...and his eyes narrowed. Apparently this orderly had a...use...for comatose women on his watch. Well. He had a use for useless men such as these.
No one saw him slip into the room with the stranger. There was a faint thud as he palmed the man's head and slammed it into the wall. Then he was standing over the woman, who had the drawn look of someone who had been in a hospital bed for far too long. He looked over to her IV and calmly went to a supply drawer, withdrawing a syringe. He drew some blood from his own wrist, then calmly injected it into her IV. The red liquid thinned a little in the saline, then slid down the tube and into her arm.
The substance started to heal her, exhausted cells recovering, tissues expelling toxins, muscles slowly unstiffening. It felt cold, though, cold enough to wake her up after a few moments. By then he had calmly stepped back into the shadows, giving her a moment to recover herself before dealing with him.
A woman lay in a coma, having been shot in the head at her own wedding. Lazslo would have found this a tragic footnote had he not walked in on the scene as the corpses were cooling. He managed to salvage the man he had come for, even with a bullet in his head. But when Rufus told him the woman's story, he had determined to find her. He wasn't the kindest of men, but his sense of justice was deeply troubled by this.
It took him months to find her, and he could only fully verify it by comparing her scent to the blood-crusted blond strands he had gathered at the scene. Now, he was following his nose down the hall, drawing nearer to the source.
He found her room, but paused, watching a beefy orderly talking in low tones with another man. He sharpened his hearing...and his eyes narrowed. Apparently this orderly had a...use...for comatose women on his watch. Well. He had a use for useless men such as these.
No one saw him slip into the room with the stranger. There was a faint thud as he palmed the man's head and slammed it into the wall. Then he was standing over the woman, who had the drawn look of someone who had been in a hospital bed for far too long. He looked over to her IV and calmly went to a supply drawer, withdrawing a syringe. He drew some blood from his own wrist, then calmly injected it into her IV. The red liquid thinned a little in the saline, then slid down the tube and into her arm.
The substance started to heal her, exhausted cells recovering, tissues expelling toxins, muscles slowly unstiffening. It felt cold, though, cold enough to wake her up after a few moments. By then he had calmly stepped back into the shadows, giving her a moment to recover herself before dealing with him.
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She felt stitches on the side of her head, a half-inch or so of hair grown in around them. Her belly was smooth and flat under the stiff cotton hospital gown.
"Oh God." It was a slight sound, a mewl more than a cry. She lay back, resting both hands on her abdomen. She shut her eyes tight and bit her lip, taking a moment to absorb the pain before breathing hard and opening teary eyes.
"Okay," she breathed, studying the IV attached to her arm. It looked like a saline drip, but a syringe jutted out from the end -
Her first thought was of Elle's preferred methods and she immediately ripped it out, then swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, looking around to take stock before her eyes settled on Lazslo.
"What happened?" she growled, advancing on him. Her voice was hoarse from lack of use and her gait was still a little unsteady, but the fire in her eyes was formidable nonetheless. "Where's my baby?"
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