The Spider's Ballet

Chapter 003: Making Rounds

Ensi and Cherry were arriving at the hospital that rose some thirty stories tall. This building, unlike many of the others, appeared well kept. Ensi greeted several members of the staff as they made their way in. Nurses and doctors alike wore the look of sleepless nights. None seemed to be bothered enough to pay proper attention to them when they walked in. Cherry smiled with understanding towards them as she breathed in the smell of antiseptic deeply.

One nurse in scrubs approached Ensi with her display clutched to her chest, speaking quickly but clearly as she rushed by. "He is on the roof, as he wants to be when he is on the verge of berating everyone." Ensi showed no surprise as he moved his guest up the stairs onto the rooftop. A stout older man in a white coat with white sparse hair looked out over the city while resting his arms on the raised ledge of the roof. The cigarette hanging from the lip of his square jaw was half ash. He looked at them through thick spectacles.

He spoke in a grizzled tone, "Alright boy, I got it from here." Ensi, perturbed by this, was muttering about filthy habits before moving back down the stairs. The old man gauged Cherry, who stood with arms crossed. "Yea, you will do. I'm Hobe, and I'm banking on you being the first competent help I've had in a minute. My professionals," he enunciated professionals with purpose, "have never had to deal with the horrific injury or trauma that we've had come our way the past few months."

Cherry moved her hands down to her side. "I can assure you I'm well equipped."

Hobe grunts. "Good. I read the notes and you lot want to help with the Devil Beast deal. Which is great. Go visit the trauma ward and see for yourself what we are up against. Come back to me with any questions. Walstaff is putting an odd amount of trust in strangers to help us. But it ain't like he has much choice. The damned descendant born here dragged most of the young blood from Leoris out to the war effort only to die like a beaten dog. The hunters are so thinned out they are pulling from the other trades to keep us fed and investigate the threat. Damned mess. I'll be in my office going over charts and making notes for the staff. You will find me there." The old man moved stiffly before limping down the stairs with no intention of showing Cherry where the trauma ward was located.

Cherry made her way through the hospital, asking the staff for directions along the way. The patients she saw on the upper floors were all resting, with no signs of distress. This changed as soon as she came upon the trauma ward. The staff wore grave expressions and the doors to the rooms were almost all closed. She flagged down a doctor, briefly introducing herself and stating her intention to look over charts and interview some patients.

She pawed her way through several charts outside of the rooms and looked in on the patients before she came upon a distinction in the residents here. All the injured parties were male. All maimed and disfigured. After a while, she came upon one chart that read conscious and coherent. Optical trauma, facial disfigurement, severe emotional distress. Thinking she may be able to glean some information, Cherry opened the door to the room.

The man in the bed sat up and turned his uncovered eye towards her, bandaged from head to neck. Blood had been pooling beneath the cloth. He asked, "Can you please change them? I can feel them sticking."

Cherry smiled and headed over to the sink in the room to wash her hands. She searched the cabinet for gauze, fresh bandages, and scissors. The wounded man said, "You are new here? I don't want to scare you, but most of the nurses and doctors here can't stand the sight of what is underneath here." He pointed to his face.

Cherry found what she was looking for and pulled a stool up beside him. "My name is Cherry. I've done triage on the frontline. I'm here to assist doctor Hobe. You won't be scaring me today."

Beneath cracked lips he said, "Good, you aren't fucking useless. Forgive me, I think they are doing the best they can. The name is Tarrich. I was a rebuilder before the hunters dragged me out to the damned deep of the woods and left me half dead."