*****
“Is it just me or is this place, like, empty today?” Ann asked Mike as they reached the first floor.
“It does seem kind of quiet for a hospital,” Mike agreed, “but it’s early in the day. I would imagine it gets busier in the evening.”
“I'm not so sure about that. I've been here plenty of times.”
Mike had a loose idea of how this was going to go. They would find the boyfriend hanging out, there would probably be some harsh words, maybe some slapping, and then he would try to take Ann to her home. Maybe have her see a doctor. But what if there really were demons running around the place, or werewolves for that matter? No, such things were impossible. There had to be another answer. Ann seemed nice enough, but troubled. She looked a bit ill and her hair was a mess. She wore an oversized coat that hid her frame and she constantly had her hands in her pockets, fiddling with something. She didn't paint a portrait of sanity. But then he must look like hell too. He still had blood all over his T-shirt.
They entered a long room filled with beds and curtains on the walls that could be drawn around them to give each patient some privacy. It was very similar to the room he had been stitched up in. A part of him really didn’t want to meet Mary the nurse again. He was almost ashamed to admit it, but there was something about her that scared him a little.
Ann peeked her head through the first curtain. “Nope.” Mike looked in after her, to find an older woman asleep. He quickly closed up the curtain.
“Ann, we can’t just disturb these patients until we find your doctor. Don't you think it’s a little rude?”
Ann stopped in front of the next curtain and gave him a hard look. “Mike, this is a life-or-death situation. At least,” she fidgeted a bit more with her hand in the pocket, “I think it is.” She looked down at the ground, then gathered herself up and threw open the next curtain. Not seeing what she wanted, she moved on.
Mike followed her and closed the curtain, but when what was behind the curtain registered in his mind, he opened it again.
“Ted?” he asked the man on the bed. The figure shuddered briefly and turned towards him. It looked so much like Ted, but this man was taller and had a bigger build. Not quite the hulking mass that his “werewolf” had been last night, but still impressive.
“Mike? Mike Samson?” the man asked weakly. His voice was very quiet. It was Ted! Mike stood dumbly in front of the curtain. Ann pushed in behind him, suddenly interested.
“You know this guy, Mike?” she asked. The question was enough to knock Mike out of his stupor.
“Yeah...at least I think so.”
“Mike, have you seen my girls?” the man who might be Ted continued. Ted always referred to his wife and daughter as “his girls.”
“I...” was as far as Mike got. How could he explain to his neighbor and friend what had happened? The man’s loss made him want to cry right there. Worst yet, it echoed with his recent grief. He knew about death and broken families all too well.
“Hi Ted.” Ann stepped in. “I'm Ann, a friend of Mike's. We just met actually, but I'm terribly interesting, so I'm sure we'll be good buddies.” Ted cradled his head and winced. Ann continued, seeming not to notice. “Can you help us? We're looking for a doctor. Tall handsome white guy, name of Malone?”
Ted moaned and held his head in his hands, rocking. “I'm sorry, I…” His words were slow and he stuttered. “I haven't seen him. Mike, have you seen the girls? Did you bring them here? I have this terrible...” he moaned again, “headache. Ugh, like you wouldn't believe.” He lay back down on the bed. As he did, Mike noticed a large, fresh-looking scar right below his chin. It was in the exact spot that Mike had placed his gun and pulled the trigger, just this morning.
“Oh my God...”
It had been Ted. And Ted was a werewolf. How else could he survive that shot? He had killed his wife and daughter and had no memory of the event. The horror of the situation stung Mike down to the very root of his being. To find your family violently murdered was a nightmare above all others. To find that you were the murderer was something beyond any bad dream he had ever imagined.
Suddenly, the curtain behind them was flung open.
“Miss Melakh! What did I say I would do the next time I found you in my hospital?” It was a doctor. She was tall and beautiful like the nurse, but somehow much more frightening. Her voice was stern, like she was lecturing a toddler. Ann jumped at the sound of the woman’s voice and turned to face her. For a moment there was a stunned silence, as the doctor glared at Ann with a look that Mike was sure could kill small animals. Ann was shaking like a leaf.
“Excuse me doctor.” Mike started with his cop routine, but had trouble finding his usual authoritative tone of voice. “Miss Melakh was just helping me find a patient.”
“And you are?” Her words were icy.
“Officer Mike Samson.” He flashed his badge quickly, just as he had seen cops do hundreds of times on TV. It was actually kind of fun. This seemed to take her down a notch.
“Oh, well Officer...” Just then, Ann came back to life again, tearing some sort of spray can out of her pocket and sticking it in the doctor’s face.
“You can't have him, you demon bitch, but you can have this!” Ann pushed the spray can’s release, puffing a fine mist directly into the doctor’s eyes.
“Ann, no!” Mike called, pulling her away far too late. The doctor screamed and clawed at her own eyes. The scream turned to a shriek, as if Ann had lit the doctor on fire. Black ooze ran out from underneath her hands.
“God, Ann, what the hell did you do that for?”
“Mike, just look at her,” Ann stammered, staring at her victim. Large chunks of the doctor’s flesh were dropping to the floor. Her screaming was becoming something far less than human. The doctor seemed to expand then, like a strange balloon. The lights flickered, on and off, and then on again.
“Ann, what the hell was…?” Mike’s question died on his lips. The doctor looked up at them, her formerly pretty face unrecognizable, replaced by something only vaguely human in shape. It had a flat nose and pointed ears and was covered in black scales. The eyes were as black as Ted’s had been. They did not look at Mike and Ann directly. In fact, they stared blindly at a corner of the room.
“Kill them!” the thing growled. Mike glanced back at the bed as Ted began to convulse, foaming at the mouth. The muscles in his arms and chest expanded rapidly. Mike pulled Ann away as he stepped back, unable to take his eyes off of the transformations that were taking place.
“Oh hell,” he said.
“I second that,” Ann muttered in a low shocked voice, “Time to go.” She turned and ran. Seeing the wisdom in this, Mike followed her example. They took off at a sprint, away from the demon woman and wolf-man.
“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God,” Ann chanted.
Suddenly, another curtain was torn open in front of them, and a huge black man stepped out. Just like Ted, he was growing in size. Dark black hair was sprouting up along his arms. He staggered toward them slowly, like something out of a terrible zombie movie. Ann screamed and lost her footing, but Mike scooped her up with one arm and kept running to the hallway beyond. They could hear the demon woman screaming behind them.
“Kill them!”
Mike did not turn back. He took the first turn that they came to found, and then took another. He needed a gun. A big gun, and a SWAT team, and an army, and maybe Chuck Norris.
He skidded to a stop, narrowly escaping a collision with a woman running in the other direction. Though she said nothing, her face was a mask of terror as she fled past them down a third hallway. Seconds later, another werewolf leapt from a doorway. Mike jumped at the sight of the new monster, quickly turning to follow the fleeing woman.
The little threesome fled down two more hallways. The monsters were behind them bu
t seemed to be losing ground. Mike slowed for a second and put Ann back onto her feet.
“Thanks,” she said, before they both took off running again. Then, the sight ahead of them slowly pierced his panic-stricken brain. It was the front desk. A nurse stood at the desk, staring down at something on her desk. They were so close to the exit, just a few feet away.
“Lady, run! Something…” Mike didn’t bother finishing the sentence though, noticing that the nurse’s eyes were a familiar black color. A low growl was coming from her throat. She suddenly spat something out, her body beginning to spasm. It took several moments for Mike to work out what had come out of her mouth. It was the woman’s teeth, all of them, sitting in a pool of blood on the desk. The sight stopped him in his tracks for a moment, before Ann’s voice snapped his attention forward again.
“Mike, help!”
Two more werewolves had appeared out of nowhere and grabbed the woman who had run with them. Ann, in what Mike could only imagine was a fit of madness, charged one of the beasts, slamming her fist hard into its face. To her credit, the monster stopped in its tracks, a dumbstruck look plainly visible through the extra hair and fangs. “Well, if she can do it…” Mike thought, following her lead and slugging the nearest wolf-man as hard as he could. He was a little surprised when the beast staggered and released its victim. The woman was free for a second and Ann reached over to help her up.
“Come on!”
The ex-nurse from the front desk was upon them now, her mouth full of long, sharp fangs. She smacked Mike aside with one glancing blow and went right for the woman, who was still struggling to get up.
Reeling from the blow, Mike could do nothing to stop the nurse from picking the woman up and running with her. The woman at last made a sound, a cry for help, as the wolf-nurse tossed her over her shoulder like a bulky gym bag. In the meantime, Mike’s boxing partner had recovered and was going for a little payback for the punch to the face. It dove at Mike but, by luck, missed when Mike ducked.
“Mike, this way!” Ann was reaching for him. He grabbed the hand she offered and together they were on the run again. A few steps In front of them was a door marked “Stairs.”
“No Ann, we have to save her before we get out!” Mike yelled in frustration, noticing the increasing distance between him and the escaping ex-nurse. His noble intentions were quickly abandoned, however, when he noticed yet another werewolf bearing down on him. He quickly followed Ann through the door to the stairwell and swung it closed behind him, hard. It connected with their closest pursuer, giving off a satisfying crunch.
Ann was ahead of him, heading up the stairs. “This way. Move!” she shouted, like he needed to be told that it was a good idea. He bounded up the stairs two at a time, fear erasing any memory of his injuries.
On the next floor they burst through a door and ran down a new hallway. After a moment, noticing no pursuit, they slowed.
“Ann,” Mike panted, “can you find us another way out of here?”
“Not without Keith!”
“What? Are you insane?” Mike shouted. He grabbed her arm, wanting to shake some sense into her.
“No, look! Now I have proof that something horrible is going on and I'm not a loon. I have to find him!” There were tears in her eyes. “Please, Mike. Please. You and I are his only chance. And I love him,” she pleaded.
Mike frowned and shook his head. “But what can you and I do against those...things, whatever they are?”
A growl from down the hall ended the conversation. At its end, a werewolf was sprinting towards them. It was huge, far larger than Ted had been. Foam streamed out of its fanged mouth and huge claws jutted from its fingertips. It still wore pants but its shirt had been torn apart by its massive chest muscles. Once again, they broke into a run.
As they sprinted past an intersection, Mike caught an odd sight. While perhaps not as odd as the man-beast that was chasing them, it was enough to catch his attention. It was a small Hispanic man, in a hospital gown, leaning against the wall. Both his right arm and right leg were bound up in large casts and he looked ready to pounce on something. He winked at Mike as they ran past.
“Look out!” Mike shouted, but the man ignored him. As the wolf-man passed the man, he spun out from his hiding place and smashed the arm with the cast into the creature’s face. There was a loud crack as the wolf-man was knocked to the floor. The man quickly followed through, bringing the cast down on its head two more times. The first time there was another thunderous crack, and the second, a wet crunch.
Mike grabbed Ann by the arm and they came to a stop, turning to look at their savior. As they walked toward him, the man worked on pulling apart the remains of his cast..
“Ah, thank you sir,” the strange newcomer said to the downed monster. “I've been trying to get that off for quite some time. Amazingly itchy.”
“Mr. Miller, is that you?” Ann asked as the pieces of the cast fell to the ground. Miller rubbed his arm. The skin there was a bright pink. He turned toward her and gave her a friendly wave.
“Miss Ann!” He had an odd, almost Scottish, accent.
“I thought they got to you,” Ann replied. “I thought you were demon food or something.”
“Oh they tried. As it turns out, Scottish food is terrible.” He grinned. There was a long pause as both Mike and Ann tried to figure out what he meant.
Miller ignored their confusion and gave Mike a once-over. “Joseph Miller, a pleasure to meet you.” He put the hand of his recently-freed arm out to shake. Mike slowly took it, confused by the odd man but happy to have the help.
“Mike Samson.”
“Samson? Fantastic name!” Miller smiled and slapped Mike on the back.
“Is that thing dead?” Ann asked, kicking the wolf-man a few times.
“Oh, most likely,” Miller said. “Generally, crushing their skulls works fairly well. It’s a bit less effective than chopping off their heads, but I really don't have any better tools at my disposal at the moment.”
“What exactly was it?” Mike asked.
“Oh, that’s a lesser demon spawn, commonly referred to as a werewolf. Although where the actual wolf reference comes from, I have no idea,” Miller continued, as if describing a type of mold, or a model of vacuum cleaner. “Generally quite vicious but not really dangerous unless in packs.”
“Miller,” Ann asked, staring at his arm, “how did you do that with your arm? Cynthia said it was shattered.”
“Oh, that.” Miller looked a bit embarrassed. “I heal much faster than you regular folk.”
“You’re not one of them, are you?” Ann asked. Mike wasn't sure if the “them” she was referring to meant demons or werewolves.
Miller laughed and then, with a grin, answered, “Lass, I'm not one of them. I’m the one that hunts them.”
Chapter 12 - Lawyers, Guns, and Money. Well, Guns Anyway
Lawyers, Guns, and Money – Warren Zevon – Excitable Boy