Mathius
Gardenian Hospital
Room 709
Gardenian Hospital
Room 709
Light surrounded him, stinging his retinas as his pupils shrank under the glare. His eyes trailed over to his left to see a strange, square device emitting strange noises as a green light erratically darted across its black face. Where in the stars was he? A sudden memory assaulted him, causing him to tense up. His fingers clenched the sheets as a spasm locked his every muscle. An excruciating stinging sensation attacked his heart as his hand desperately went to grasp it. He clutched his chest as his heart hammered loudly within, growing louder as though it would swell and burst. The heart monitor was beeping rapidly, attracting the immediate attention of a nurse.
âOh my god!â she exclaimed before prodding the panic button on the wall.
Quickly, she approached the manâs bedside and slung her arms around him in her hurry to restrain him. Panting hoarsely, his icy orbs were large and unblinking, staring deeply into his mind as the delayed memory of death caught up to him.
Entangled beneath silken sheets, he and a woman with no face had slept in each otherâs embrace. The palm of his hand rested against her belly and the other against her shoulder, clutching it gently as his face was tucked away in her ringlets of coffee-bean hair. She turned over in his grasp, her face devoid of features but the cream that made her complexion. She pressed her face against his in a sultry kiss. He had returned the kiss, groggily-so, drinking from her love as his hands groped her hip and combed through her hair.
While he was engrossed with her, the faceless woman reached between her thighs to remove a thin knife, gripping it tightly as she pressed her face harder against his own. The strike was swift, biting into his chest and startling him awake. The blade had been so sharp, it was as painless as a syringe, but the burning and stinging of his heart quickly followed. Blood gushed between them as the faceless woman clung to him, drowning him in his pain and fluids. He squirmed in her grip, thrashing against her thighs and arms to no avail. Weakness swiftly seized him and as his struggles ceased, she pulled back, her face sanguine and dripping as she leaned over to his ear, muttering words that were too distorted to remember.
The doctor entered the room with two other nurses and assessed the situation. Barely a wasted second later, he commanded, âYou help her hold him, and you sedate him.â
The second nurse joined the first, helping her hold the patient down as the third nurse quickly pierced his neck with a strong sedative. As she squeezed the plunger, the patient began to relax, going limp in their arms as his eyes rolled back into his head.
âWho is this man?â the doctor questioned.
âI donât know. I havenât had a chance to talk to him. This is the first time heâs woken up all day,â the first nurse answered.
The doctor regarded the sleeping patient strangely unable to deduce his ethnicity. âAs soon as he wakes up, let me know. We donât need a John Doe on our hands.â
âYes, Doctor.â
As the doctor and his assistants took their leave, the nurse dimmed the lights, turning the light switch until the atmosphere was at a comfortable setting. She then stepped out.
Later.
BeepâŠbeepâŠbeep. There was that noise again. His eyes cracked open, blue slits taking in the dark as he slowly pulled his face from his pillow to roll onto his back. A gentle darkness surrounded himâŠwhere was he now? Groaning softly, his hand went to his chest, feeling the crackle of paper as his hospital gown obstructed his inspection. Glancing down at his paper clothing, he rested his hands upon it curiously, sliding them up and down his torso as the paper crackled loudly. Why was he wearing paper?
With another groan, he sat up and ripped the paper over his left pectoral. There over his heart was a scar that had gone along with the dream he had encountered earlier.
Rubbing the flesh soothingly, he thought, No; hardly a dream.
He had been murdered and where he was now wasnât the heaven or hell he was expecting. His eyes narrowed as a silver light began to etch itself upon the back of the hand that he was inspecting his old wound with. The brand of a white crown appeared, and then suddenly an eldritch voice filled his conscience:
Long live the kingâŠ
KingâŠthe word sounded familiar. So he was king in this after life? Strange that such a purgatory would need one, but the synopsis of the reality and its game were blossoming in his mind as though it was always there and he was remembering.
The door to his room opened as the nurse from before paused in the doorway, watching as her patient tore away at his gown to peel from his body the sensor pads.
âStop! Donât do that,â she exclaimed as she rushed to his bedside. She, however, found herself frozen in her tracks when the manâs ice-cold eyes settled on her. He stared at her like a beast and she clutched a corner of her dress nervously in her hand. What was she doing just standing there? He was awake and she could get his information. âUmâŠIâm going to go fetch the clipboard, and then I will ask that you fill in your information. Iâll be right back.â
He watched the nurse scurry away and immediately thought how unusual her language was. It wasnât like any heâs ever heard on Estia and somehow he understood it. It was baffling to know a language that he has never spoken or heard.
âSâŠtop,â he repeated on deep vocals, hearing how strange it sounded to his ears. It gave him an accent similar to Eastern Europe yet soft like Persian.
The nurse returned and as soon as she opened the door, she raised the back of her hand to her eyes to guard her innocence from what she was seeing. Her patient had shed his robe and was walking about the room touching all the appliances. Her cheeks were on fire as she spoke nervously, âOh dear; oh gosh; Sir.â Geez, how did she manage to get into such predicaments? It had been a simple internship and already she was facing a story for her girlfriends. But why did she have to be such a rookie about it?
Another nurse saw the poor girl and walked over to check on her, âEmily; whatâs wrong?â
The nurse blushed even more embarrassed to tell her coworker. âUm, well, noth-noâŠOkay, heâs uhâŠwalking around naked in there. I saw him messing with his gown, but I didnât think he would just rip it off.â
âSo? Youâve washed butts before right?â the other nurse replied bluntly.
âThis is different. I donât know why, but it is.â
âAwâŠyou got a crush.â
âI donât even know him!â
âItâs okay girl. Iâll take care of it.â
The other nurse took the clipboard from her and stepped into the room. The patient had found the window and had pulled the string, which drew up the blinds. He regarded the city in awe. There were so many strange lights of various colors that they lit the horizon in a halo of white and pink. In the distance, he noticed two prominent castles standing above the metropolis: one white and one black. He didnât even need to look at his crest to know that the white castle was his. It glowed like the moon and looked to be carved from white coral and ivory.
âExcuse me, Sir,â the other nurse called. She stopped right next to him with the clipboard as Emily watched in admiration. She was such a strong woman! Either that or Emily was too much of a virgin. However, all that changed when the man looked at her with those wolfish eyes he had given Emily and faced the woman. The nurseâs eyes widened in shock, her eyes immediately flicking below his waist before fighting to remain locked upon his face.
âOh my godâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠhere!â
She thrust the board at him in her anxiety and accidentally jabbed him in the gut with it. Emily winced and quickly rushed in there to save the girl before she did anymore senseless damage. He glanced down at the clipboard and took it, raising it before his eyes as he read over the foreign text. It was fascinating that he could actually read it and understand it.
As Emily peeked over the other nurseâs shoulder, she saw what she thought to be confusion on their patientâs face and she grabbed the dangling pen to hold it out to him. âYeah, um, just fill out everything.â
Taking the pen from her, he flipped it around in his fingers curiously and clicked the silver button as its bronze tip extended and retracted. The device was strange but when he placed the tip to the paper, a black ink flowed out of it. Writing his name on the first line, the other information seemed irrelevant as he handed the clipboard back to the nurse. The two nurses stared at the foreign script. The ink swirled, looped, and sometimes made shapes they thought to be half of squares or some polygon. What language was it? They hadnât ever seen it before, but then again, neither of them were linguists.
âUm, Sir, uhâŠweâre sorry but we canât read this. Can you write in English?â
âMahâteeâoos Crooâvehân Doâmeeânoos,â he sounded it out for them. He then responded rather slowly as the new language filled his mouth being what his mind felt to be the proper language to respond in. âI am Ro; I am your king.â
Having grown tired of this strange place, Mathius reached out to rest his hands upon the two nursesâ heads. He looked to one and commanded, âBring me clothes.â He then looked to Emily unsure of what to tell her to do. The only command that came to his mind was, ââŠStop.â
The other nurse stepped back and left the room to carry out her orders, while Emily remained there frozen and unmoving. Mathiusâs attention returned to the window and the castles in the distance. He was interested in seeing what the black castle had to offer. What kind of a king ruled it, and what kind of champions did he have at his fingertips?