Hometorius : Coming Home

chapter 34 : The Bloody Gloves

Zarina POV

Only the three of us followed Lynda. Sam said he'd rather save himself the view and stayed in the living room, watching the rest of the news.

Lynda led us quickly to a cellar she had recently found. None of us said anything, we weren't surprised that out of nowhere a blue-haired girl found herself in our house. She led us down a dark corridor and then down a steep staircase.

"It's here," she said over her shoulder and shouted to the hole in the floor. "Hold on, Marylin! We're coming!"

She let Fleur go first, followed by me, then Kate, and she came down last.

"Merde! [T/N: Shit]" slipped out of the French's mouth.

She quickly covered her mouth with her hand and fell to her knees beside Marylin's body. The blood was still flowing from the wound.

"How long has she been lying here?" I asked when Lynda had come down.

"Far too long," she replied and approached our, I think, cousin. "We need to take her to the hospital. Will you help me?"

We agreed without objection. Fleur conjured up a stretcher on which Lynda and I gently laid Marylin. Then we grabbed the stretcher and teleported to the front of the hospital. We expected Kate to stay in the basement as non-magical. But she moved with us. The Non-Magical Five.

* * *

We found ourselves in an empty corridor. The surroundings were quiet and white. White walls, white floor, white door, white chairs in a small waiting room, even the receptionist at the end of the corridor had white flowers in a vase. To avoid wasting time, Lynda quickly pulled us ahead. We hurried past the first door. Kate and I looked through the small window into the room.

There were two beds. On one of them lay a small boy. At first glance, his face looked burned. I looked more closely and swallowed with difficulty. The boy had no skin on the entire left side of the face.

In the second bed sat a girl with long dark hair, tied in a high ponytail. Next to her, a girl with red hair was sleeping in a chair. Kate stared at them for a moment, then moved on, toward the reception. After a few steps she whispered.

"Guys... Linda Thomson was there... and Rita."

"Kate, Marylin is literally dying at our hands right here," I reminded her sharply, not stopping or glancing at Kate, though I was also curious what the girls were doing there.

As we approached another room, the door opened right in front of us. A young doctor in a white knee-length coat came out. He looked at us in surprise, then looked at Marylin on the stretcher and back at us again.

"Dr. Kovalsky," he introduced himself and reached his hands out to Lynda, who stood the closest to him.

He was still wearing disposable gloves, stained with the blood of the patient he had just left. Despite that, the blue-haired still squeezed the doctor's hand, looking at him suspiciously.

"We need your help, doctor," Fleur said, behind Lynda.

"Naturally," he rubbed his hands and walked over to Marylin, then put his hand to the wound. "It's deep. We'll take it to the ER immediately."

He took a determined step in the opposite direction to the one we had been moving in a moment ago. So we turned around and followed him. Kate glanced back to the half-faced boy's room. Our "friends" were no longer inside.