The Story of the Black Dogs

Chapter 3.2

     Pain. It was his sole anchoring to reality. Each wave and pulsation of pain was proof that something did indeed happen, but it was also a hindrance. He needed to get out of this town, but he couldn't make that drive with an injured and bleeding arm.

     For a moment, Charles thought of attempting to treat it himself, but he wasn't in any danger now, and for all he knew, he could still be losing his mind.

     'What would a sane person do?' Charles thought. 'Of course, they would get treated by a professional. I really am losing it.'

     His fingers danced across the tablet screen in his truck to find the nearest clinic or hospital. Luckily there was one nearby, but only one in this town. Then again, this town wasn't a large one, not to mention, it was kind of out of the way.

     At least this gave him direction, afterwards, he was going to leave this place. The place where the devil seemed to haunt him.

     The hospital was a few minutes away, hidden amidst a cluster of woods and forest trees. Despite being out of public view, the place was well kept with manicured bushes and clearly outlined parking spaces. The windows were clean and clear, almost translucent. And the warm brown brick seemed to almost glow where the sunlight hit it. Quite different from the diner he had just fled.

     Although the place wasn't bad looking, it still had a dreary feel to it. Perhaps it was because the blocky build made the place seem too solemn and serious, or maybe it was the blatant emergency sign draped across the portico. Perhaps it was simply due to the simple fact it was a hospital. Either way, it felt almost foreboding.

     Charles parked his truck a distance away from the other parked cars, where he would have ample space to maneuver when it was time to leave. Clutching his bleeding arm, Charles hopped out of his truck and used his body to close the door.

     Each step he took toward the hospital caused a wave of pain through his arm, making him wonder just how bad his wound was. He hoped it wasn't too severe as he didn't want to spend too long at the hospital, but with his blood-soaked sleeve, he knew that it wasn't good.

     Charles pushed open the door to the entrance and quickly walked over to the front desk where a couple of nurses sat at computers.

     "I'm injured. I'm bleeding pretty bad!" he shouted before he arrived at the desk.

     Despite this, no one at the desk looked up at him as if he had never said a word.

     "Hey," he said waving his hand in front of the nurse. "Can you hear me?"

     Nothing

     Charles was taken aback, by their indifferent behavior. Weren't they nurses? Charles looked around to see if anyone else had noticed this, but no one seemed to.

     Charles knocked on the desk to get the nurse's attention, and when she still didn't look up at him, he even went so far as to poke her on her shoulder.

    Still Nothing

     'What's going on?' Charles thought. 

     Anxiety welled up in a tangled knot in his stomach. Something wasn't right about this place at all. No one seemed to look at him or even hear him. Not the people in the waiting room, nor the people in the lobby, not even the nurses or doctors seemed to notice him.

     'I should leave.' Charles thought.

     "Can I help you?"

     Charles jumped hard and stumbled into the desk in front of him. After catching his breath Charles turned around only to be startled again by the view of the young nurse behind him.

     The nurse appeared nearly dead as she looked at him with dark sunken eyes. Her lips were so chapped that they were slightly bleeding, and her face was sunken from exhaustion. Her light blue scrubs looked too big for her small and frail frame, and the droplets of blood on her clothes made him feel uneasy.

     "Can I help you?" she repeated in a raspy voice, her eyes slowly drifting to his bleeding arm. "Ahh, a dog bite. I can help you with that. Come with me."

     The ghostly nurse began walking him out of the lobby area in the front, and a feeling of foreboding followed him with each step.