Experiment in Terror 05 On Demon Wings (8 page)

“I know,” she said. “I actual y thought it last night but I

didn’t want to say anything in front of mom. She doesn’t

know you slept with Dex. Wel , she didn’t know.”

“Oh, God.”

“Yeah, she obviously knows now. Dad too.w ba

“Fuck.”

“I think they both want to kil him. Like, way more now

than before.”

Surprisingly, I felt no hatred toward Dex about this. This

was just as much my fault. We didn’t use a condom. The

thought had crossed my mind but I decided to ignore it and

deal with the consequences later. And here I was. While I

probably wouldn’t have kept the baby, the end result was

the same. I was left with a ravaged body and a guilty

conscious.

“Perry, honey,” my mom said as she came inside the

room. Her face was at maximum worry levels. However, as

concerned as she looked, I picked up a tinge of frustration.

After it was established that I was going to be OK, I was

going to be in big BIG trouble with her and dad.

“Hi mom,” I greeted her quietly. I suddenly felt extra

embarrassed.

She leaned over me and kissed my forehead, smel ing

like her heady tuberose perfume. Didn’t the hospital have

rules about no smel s?

I was going to stay strong and stubborn but the moment

her eyes searched mine and I could see how upset she

actual y was, I weakened. “I’m so sorry, mom.”

“It’s fine. We’l talk about it later,” she said, burying that

last hint of annoyance somewhere. “The important thing is

you’re going to be OK. It’s al going to stop now.”

“She may have more cramps and bleeding over the next

few weeks,” a man’s voice cut into our conversation.

I raised my head to see who our new visitor was and my

body froze in a mix of panic and shock.

It was the same doctor from my dream and from waking

up during surgery.

He paused at the foot of my bed, looking nonplussed at

my reaction, at my face scrunched up in horror. He even

smiled.

“Glad I could meet you under more appropriate

circumstances,” he said. “I’m Dr. Cain.”

Of course you are
, I thought wildly. I looked at my mom

and Ada to see if they found anything amiss about the

situation. I couldn’t tel . They certainly weren’t terrified.

“What’s wrong?” my mom asked me.

I could only shake my head and looked back to Dr. Cain

with fear.

“She’s al right,” he told her. “I’m probably quite the sight

to her. You remember me, don’t you Perry?”

I couldn’t find the words so I just nodded. I noticed I was

gripping Ada’s hand real y hard. She said “ow” under her

breath.

He looked back at my mom with the same kind eyes that

had accompanied me down that hal way with the demon

girl. “It can be traumatic for patients when they wake up

during surgery.”

“I would assume so,” my mom replied haughtily. “Poor

girl; you should have known how much anaesthesia to give

her.”

“It was a difficult cal . We thought we made the right one.

But Perry would have stil been in a painless, dream-like

state. It was shocking to her, but she was in no pain.”

I calmed down enough to narrow my eyes at the doctor.

How did he know? I remembered some of that pain very

wel . His eyes may have been kind, but they weren’t fooling

me.

“We’l be keeping her here overnight for observation,” he

continued. “The circumstances that brought her here

weren’t the usual. But, aside from the breakthrough

bleeding and cramps that may fol ow, she should be fine.

We’l give her some medication to keep her afloat and it’s

best if she stays at home, in bed over the next few days.”

The doctor rattled on with some more instructions to us

but the wooziness and shear overwhelming nature of the

situation had my thoughts bogged down to a minimum and

my eyes were slowly drooping shut.

~~~

When I woke up again, I was alone. The smal , windowless

hospital room was awful y dark, with the only light coming

from various machines that flanked my bed. I wasn’t

hooked up to any of them – only the IV was attached to my

arm – yet their lights were on and they gave off an

impersonal hum.

My mouth was drier than the Sahara and when I ran my

tongue over my lips, it felt like sandpaper against cracked

concrete. I wanted water and I wanted it now but I had no

idea how to cal the nurse. I thought Ada or my parents

would have been around and their absence stung a little.

Sure, I was in no danger, but what I had gone through was

pretty traumatic. I was having a hard time even fathoming al

of it.

I placed my hand on my stomach and pressed down

slightly until it hurt. Had the bit of weight gain real y been a

result of pregnancy? The cramps and the bloating and the

mood swings? I felt stupid for ignoring the symptoms for so

long and ignorant that I just brushed the idea aside just

because I had my period. You’d think I’d know more than a

14-year-old girl before Sex Ed, but apparently not.

I sat up careful y, conscious of that icky feeling of the IV

needle as it pul ed against my skin and vein. A machine

beside me beeped three times, sounding almost menacing

in the dark. I peered at it, wondering what the hel it could

be monitoring, and the light pulsed, alternating between red

and yel ow.

As the lights flashed against the wal s, I thought about

going for a wander down the corridor. I’d probably have to

take the drip with me but at least I’d be able to get some

water and maybe find out where my family took off to. They

wouldn’t dare leave me overnight like this; they could be

cal ous sometimes but not that bad.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I gently

lowered my bare feet until they met the cold, linoleum floor.

A sharp stab of pain flooded my insides and the growing

sensation of wetness flowed between my legs. I brought my

hand down and felt around. It was like I was wearing

diapers and it added to the thick, muddled feeling that I felt

al over my body, from my head to my groin. I took in a deep

breath and fought for clarity. I grabbed onto the portable IV

drip with one hand and with the other, made sure the back

of my paper-thin hospital gown wasn’t open for the world to

see, and cautiously walked over to the door.

I opened it with some effort – it was heavier than I

anticipated – and stuck my head out into the harshly lit

hal way. I blinked rapidly. I felt like I was doing something I

shouldn’t be, even though there were no rules about getting

out of your bed. It’s not like I had escaped or anything.

Surprisingly, there was no one about and the corridor

was entirely empty and devoid of any sound except for a

dripping that seemed to come from nowhere. I wondered

what time it was. Hospitals were usual y a hotbed of activity.

I padded my way down the hal , wincing at the squeaky

wheels of the IV drip that seemed to echo around me. Al

the doors were closed, dark and quiet. It was as stil as a

tomb and that lack of movement, lack of humanity,

frightened me. An icy trail went down my spine, as if the IV

needle relocated to the back of my neck, and I stopped

walking.

Up ahead, at the end of the hal , came a shuffling sound,

like the slow, uncertain walk of an injured or old person. I

waited, holding my breath.

An elderly woman came around the corner. She was

dressed in the same hospital gown as I was, holding a

similar IV machine with her papery, varicose-veined arms.

Her face was done up in a bouquet of bright colors: Red

cakey lips, thick magenta blush that swept from nose to

temple along her sagging cheekbones, vibrant green eye

shadow that was partly obscured by the heavy folds of her

eyelids.

Creepy Clown Lady.

I was stuck to the floor, unable to move and unwil ing to

take my eyes off of her. She slowly came my way but didn’t

look up at me. Though the sight of her was eerie as al hel ,

in some way, I was glad to see her. It felt like it had been

awhile and once my tongue found its movement again, I

knew I would have a lot to ask her.

It felt like an eternity until she was halfway down the hal

and right in front of me. She went to the left of me in her

slow shuffle. She kept her eyes on the ground, only looking

up at me at the last minute. Her pale blue, clouded eyes

met mine, briefly, and in them I saw a multitude of warnings.

I opened my mouth to say something but she kept going,

as if she didn’t know me. Somewhere I found the strength to

speak.

“Hey,” I croaked ineloquently. I reached out and grabbed

her arm lightly and a green/blue spark erupted from the

contact. It seemed to fuse my fingers to her skin and she

stopped, reluctantly turning her pin-curled head. I had never

touched her before. Her solidity surprised me.

She looked into my eyes, obviously recognizing me, and

her accented voice flooded my brain while her chalky, dried

lips remained closed.

I can’t stay. I have to go
, she said.

Where is everyone?
I thought, trying to project it to her.

You’re not supposed to be here. It’s happening too

soon.
There was a tinge of alarm in her voice, which made

the hairs on my arms stand up.

What is?

Her eyes dropped to the ground and for the first time I

realized how smal and frail she was. Despite the crazy

makeup, in her hospital gown she looked someone’s

forgotten grandmother, lost in the world.

I tried to warn you. I left that message. I know you heard

it.

I did but I didn’t know what it meant. Am in trouble?

Yes,
she said matter-of-factly
. You’re in terrible trouble,

Perry. And I haven’t been able to come see you. I can’t

anymore.

You’re seeing me now.

You’re not where you think you are.

The thought struck me cold. I looked back down at my

gown, at the glossy floor and the empty, sterile hal way. It

suddenly occurred to me that I may not be in a hospital. I

may not be anywhere.

Where am I?
I asked incredulously.

It would be best if you didn’t know.

Are you kidding me?
I thought angrily, pressing my

fingers deeper into her arm.
Do you think you’re actually

being helpful? You think you can come here, show up in

my life like this and fuck around with me?!

Swearing at her didn’t help. Her expression was blank

as a canvas.

You came to me this time
, she said
. It only works one

way now.

Please then
, I pleaded, softening my tone,
just tell me

where the hell I am.

She gave me a wry look.
Rest assured, my dear, it’s not

hell. Not yet.

She looked away, down the empty hal .

I must go,
she said.
They are watching me. They are

watching you.

And with that she started shuffling again.

I watched her leave, dumbfounded but able to yel one

last thing.

“Who is Declan O’Shea?!”

My words echoed after her until they both disappeared

into thin air.

“Perry?” I heard my sister’s voice from behind me.

Startled, I turned around and saw Ada standing there in

her grey denim leggings and studded moccasins, holding

several fashion magazines in her arms. She wasn’t alone.

The hal was suddenly fil ed with people, as if the hospital

came to life when my back was turned. Voices, beeps,

closing doors, cries and wheeling gurneys fil ed my

eardrums. It was like a veil had been lifted from my eyes

and cotton bal s were plucked out of my ears.

I quickly looked back at where Creepy Clown Lady had

disappeared. Not surprisingly, she was stil gone but the

rest of the hal was occupied by nurses and patients going

to and fro.

“You shouldn’t be out of bed,” Ada said, coming closer.

She took note of my worried face and waved the

magazines at me. “I went to get some mags to keep me

occupied. Mom said I don’t have to go to school tomorrow,

that I could stay overnight with you. I’m not sure if the docs

wil al ow it, but I’m going to try. This is way better than