Broken Bodies #3

Broken Bodies #1
Broken Bodies #2

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Nelson’s hands shook from exhaustion as he slowly made his way back home. He knew he needed to rest, but as Dozie usually joked, there was enough time to rest when one dies, but for now there was a lot to be done.

He opened the door slowly, making sure the creak was loud enough for his patients to hear. He felt a little more important when he knew they were afraid. He could almost smell their fears, and it annoyed him that they were afraid of dying while in his care, it annoyed him that they didn’t believe he could make them well again. That's probably why they were dying do easily; their fears made their bodies and minds weak, and there was nothing he could do for them

It hurt him each time one of them died, and a part of him feels that he failed, but little things keep him moving, showing him that he is not so bad a doctor, little things like his longest surviving patient. He was never interested in the names of his patients, not that he could find out anyway, but he wished he could know her name. In another place and time, he would have been attracted to her, but he had a firm culture of not mixing business with pleasure.

She refused to die, and he wondered how long she would stay.

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He had three tests to perform this night then he’d sleep. He wondered what was taking away his strength, but he suspected that Nathan or the other one who insisted on calling himself Dozie would know. He also they would stop acting as though all was well. All was not well.

He was tired and wondered how much longer he had to do this. He was always in the dark while Dozie and Nathan were free to do as they liked. He had no problem with Nathan at least he was the one who brings the patients, he just didn’t know what Dozie played in all these, yet he seemed to be the one in control of them all. He was tired of doing the job and yet feeling irrelevant.

Stepping into the room of the first patient, he noticed that the patient had disturbed himself so much that his stitches were bleeding, and from the look of things he had lost quite a lot of blood. Anger, hot like molten lava rolled through Nelson as he took in all the blood he had to clean before another patient is brought in. Taking his knife, he walked towards the patient.

“This test is going to be extra painful for you,” he thought as he strode towards the patient who had not moved since he came into the room. “Well this is definitely going to wake you up from your undeserved sleep.”

He stabbed his back as he had always wanted to see how the spinal cord looked; he had never done any surgery relating
to the spine before. He saw no reaction to his stab and knew immediately that something was wrong. He pulled the knife to the side, widening the gash and indeed exposing the spine, but there was still no reaction. Nelson felt his blood grow cold at the realization of the situation; the patient was dead.

“First he messes up the place with his blood, and now I have to clean him up and stitch him back up with no results?” Nelson fumed in anger. “I am getting too old for this. I can’t wait to pass this on and die.”

Still angry from the outcome of the first patient, he walked into the second patient’s room. He could see the patient struggle to breathe. He had been angry with Dozie and Nathan the day this patient had arrived and he had given him a fatal injury from the onset, instead of beginning with minor injuries. That mistake had made him a difficult patient to treat. The injury to his lungs had slowly gotten worse, and Nelson knew it wouldn’t be long before he died.

Life was measured in breaths and the patient’s breaths have come in labored efforts since his first test, and that meant he wasn’t getting enough life. He was losing life.

As though confirming Nelson’s thought, the patient gave off his last breath just as Nelson slapped on the latex gloves to check his vitals. Nelson gnashed his teeth, trying to rein in his anger. How was he to handle two bodies in one night? How was he to dispose two bodies and clean up the rooms before the next patients arrive?

He was getting too old for this.

At least he could count on his favorite patient to be alive. She has proven herself strong.

Closing the unseeing eyes of the weakest patient he have ever had, Nelson grunted as he strode out of the room and into the next one. He looked forward to something going well tonight, and hopefully it would be that his favorite patient was well and ready for the next test. He had been thinking, and wanted to see how her spine looked, and if she survived that, he’d check how her brain looked too, and maybe look through her eye sockets.

Somewhere deep inside he knew she would have a beautiful brain for her to keep passing the tests in flying colors. He stepped into her room and groaned as pain so strong he bent at the waist, pumped into his heart.

Lying in angle that was so twisted Nelson could not look without wincing, his favorite patient had managed to choke herself with the twine he used to tie her to keep her from trying to hurt him again. It hurt! It hurt him that she had preferred suicide to surviving the tests and helping him get the puzzle done. He had had great hopes for her. He had thought she would make a good friend to Dozie and Nathan when he was gone.

She had obviously been desperate

He was done. He was going to handover and finally get it over with. Hopefully the next person would get the puzzle right. He would have to leave Nathan and Dozie, not that they would care anyway.

Looking away from the sight before him, Nelson walked out of the room to get the bags to take the bodies away before Dozie got back. He had about an hour before he did, and so he couldn’t mourn now. He would mourn later, but for now he had to dispose the dead patients.

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Cindy waited until she heard the footsteps go to the other end of the hallway before she released her pose. Twisting had been easier when she was practicing gymnastics and ballet years ago, but it was tougher now. She took in deep breaths, stifling winces as streaks of pain shot from her injuries.

She would rest until she heard him approaching again before going back into her suicide pose. Hopefully he would go dump her somewhere people could find her. She had long figured that the only way to leave here was to die.

So here she was, playing dead, hoping to beat the doctor at his own game.

Djoi Writes