Dracula: New blood

Chapter three. Together, still alone.

I am overcome by such a profound sickness that any attempt to trying to convince myself otherwise is utterly futile. My mind registers the alterations occurring in my surroundings even though I'm incapable of visually perceiving them. Hours ago, I shut my eyes, thereby avoiding witnessing the rapid transfer to the ICU, the insertion of the intubation tube, or the invasive array of tubes and solutions administered to me. At a deeply submerged level of awareness, I am aware of these changes, as well as the frenzied activity of individuals scurrying around me. Their voices blur into a cacophony in my newfound reality. Strangely, one voice is notably absent. That One voice is missing and I didn't think I'd miss it until it wasn't there anymore. The other me!

In the darkness of my sickness, far away in my deep subconscious, I'd have been happy to have some company. I'm afraid of dying and I don't know why. There is nothing in this world for which I need to survive. I'm not religious, I have no family to depend on me, and my existence would not bring any particular progress to humanity. One less parasite on the face of the Earth. Why am I afraid of?!

What if I'm already dead?! A sharp intake of breath coincides with a pang of discomfort in my chest. My limbs, obstinately unresponsive, thwart my attempt to reach my own throat. I can't even cough.

"Oh, if I'm in pain, that means I'm alive."

Did I chuckle? Or perhaps, it was another presence? Could it be the return of the voice? Straining to listen intently, I discern only silence. A cacophony of my own despondent musings and the faint humming of medical apparatus resonate faintly in the background. Muffled voices and distant murmurs drift in from beyond...Outside voices, no doubts!

"Hmm, maybe the other me was removed along with the blood they took..."

Again a chuckle and the feeling I'm not alone in my head. Before I could start again to scan my mind, a strange movement affects my entire body. Is this a seizure? The movement seems to be outside of my body and I feel an empty sensation in the pit of my stomach. It's the anxiety I get when I'm flying. But now, I'm in a hospital! More shaking and this time I'm worried the stomach is not going to contain the vomiting feeling...A different pitch noise is making it to me. Devices in disarray, alarms, warnings...

On top of all that, Kim's voice. "No worries, dear girl, we'll make it through this too..."

I know she's lying, and I can feel again her fingers around mine followed by what seems to be her head settling upon my chest. A novel sensation registers in response—a distinctive pressure, distinct from the previous medical interventions. It dawns on me, a realization born within the labyrinth of my thoughts. She is airlifting me to Bucharest, and and there is some sort of malfunction afflicting the aircraft. The frantic noises enveloping us emanate from the frenetic multitude of instruments aboard the plane, their chaotic reverberations akin to the chaotic dance of the demented. Amidst the tumult, there are a few voices saying prayers and I guess to be of the medical personal traveling with us. A memory from years gone by resurfaces—a strange movie entitled "Final Destination." A horror film in which the plot revolves around a group of high school students who are supposed to die in a plane crash, but one of them has a premonition and convinces some of his friends to leave the plane before takeoff. As a result, they survive the disaster. However, they soon discover that Death itself is coming after them, trying to correct the "mistake" of their survival by killing them off in the order they would have died in the original plane crash. Maybe this is my situation. I was supposed to die in the tunnel or in the hospital and Kim saved me but the Death itself is chasing me to finish the job. There is no way out. The inescapability of death.

Is there a faint echo of laughter resonating within me? A silent amusement concealed within the depths of my psyche?

"All good, now," the voice of my driver, bearing a gentle English lilt, filters through. "I've managed to restore stability to the aircraft, and we shall successfully navigate our course to Bucharest," his assurances continue, directed towards Kim, I presume. While the essence of their conversation remains elusive, I discern the absence of her head resting upon my chest. "I can't do anything about the noise. All those instruments will continue to wail...We're lucky...this was sabotage, no doubt."