Perfectly Red

The After.

(Pro. Dr. Med. Birgit Hertz's POV )

Three months later.

"Hää?" I ask some what frustrated at the news as I sit back in my office chair.

"I know, I'm sorry Dr. Hertz's but it looks like the finger prints for our 'Erika Mustermann' came up with no matches from Interpol," my friend on the police force informs me over the video call. "What do you want to do next?"

I contemplate the question for a moment. The woman in the room down the hall is laying there hooked up to breathing tubes, and a dozen different wires to monitor her condition. Her body riddled with scars, I've noticed along with her natural roots growing so has a patch of white hair... more than likely caused by great stress. More disturbingly I tested a peculiar ring she was wearing when she arrived here. It was made of human bone. For all those reasons, and a strange feeling pulling at my gut I must do what is best for my patient.

"Hopefully she wakes up, her brain is still very active so... I have hope," I answer him. "For now we wait."

He agrees, and we both give a slight nod before hanging up. With a heavy sigh I bring the palm of my hand to my head fighting off a headache. These past three months have been stressful. With my workload increasing, and this new mysterious patient. Getting up I decide to check on the comatose woman down the corridor. The nurses act like they've been working as I walk by them to the unknown lady's room. I push open the door to room 'B 121', I walk into the dimly lit space, and stand next to her bed. After checking to make sure her vitals are stable my gaze lands on my patient.

"Were you running from someone?" I ask obviously not expecting a response I'm not half baked.

I adjust her blanket, and head back out into the corridor. Once I finish making my last rounds of the night I stop by the nurses station to pick up some labs results, and scans. Then I head back to my office. I start filing everything away when I get to 'Erika's' folder. Looking over the scans of her brain activity from today I'm happy, and surprised by the amount of REM sleep she has been getting. This isn't very common amongst comatose patients.

I pack up for the night, and head home in this cold wet city. Struggling to keep my eyes open as I make the drive as safely as I can. Finally in my room I kick off my shoes, and start to undress. After a long shower I drink a glass of wine before trying to get some sleep before my next shift. The next morning I wake up to my phone buzzing on my nightstand. With a groan I roll over, and answer it.

"Ja?" I try to speak with a dry mouth.

"Dr. Hertz I'm sorry to wake you."

"My next shift isn't until tomorrow, Samuel. I need sleep," I say agitated, and tired.

"You wanted me to let you know if the patient in 'B 112' has had any developments," he explains apologetically. "She opened her eyes for a moment while someone was checking on her early this morning."

"Is she stable?" I ask.

"Ja."

"Okay, let me know if anything changes I'll be there first thing tomorrow morning."

We hang up, and I sleep for awhile longer before starting my day. I go for a run, eat breakfast, come home, and spend the rest of my day online searching for the identity of my mystery patient. My search is not fruitful, and I end up just ordering dinner before giving up. I drink another glass of wine, my nightly routine, and then go to bed.