Roulette

Emberline's second week in the surgery ward was one of the most grueling and exhausting experiences she had ever faced. Despite her earlier musings about death not being as terrifying as it sounded, the constant chaos and sight of blood pooling around patients' beds made her feel small and paralyzed. The mere thought of death creeping into her mind rendered her speechless.

Her mind often drifted back to the days when her mother had endured excruciating pain, shouting in agony until she eventually succumbed.

"Put the patient on his side and remove the shard," someone instructed Emberline, her mind racing as she gripped the shard of glass embedded deeply in the skin. The sight of blood oozing from the sides of the ghastly wound caused immense pain to the young man.

Emberline braced herself and pulled on the shard, hearing the patient cry out in agony.

"Bring the cloth!" Doctor Eva instructed as Ember handed her the damp cloth, which she applied to the patient's chest, absorbing the spattering blood as he shuddered in pain and sweat trickled down his forehead.

Eva then poured a translucent medicine onto the wound, causing the patient to writhe in agony, his screams echoing his torment.

Emberline's mind went numb, her ears ringing as she stared at the patient, feeling utterly drained. Her voice felt unused yet worn out at the same time, and her hands shook with distress.

"Emberline dear, call Lenny so she can remove the rest of the shards," Eva instructed.

Ember glanced around as if the voice had come from above.

"Emberline?" Eva prompted, hoping for a response.

"Yes—yes," Emberline swallowed her nausea. "Yes, I'll call her right away," confusion evident in her voice.

Completely consumed and drained by her job, Emberline felt her sanity slipping away with each passing day.

Frustration welled up in her heart.

"I have to take care of my unwell mother, otherwise, I could have taken on the duty myself," Ember replayed Martha's words in her mind. It seemed vexing how she was burdened with everyone's duties simply because she was unfamiliar with the job.

And she had said yes.

She detested her job at the hospital completely, rarely finding time for herself. Every moment a patient needed care, she dreaded it. And now she had to stay until midnight because someone asked her to. It felt as though she was shouldering everyone's burdens while knowing nothing at all—a feeling akin to juggling flaming swords while tightrope-walking.

During the nighttime, the hospital was closed to patients, but her disdain stemmed from the smell of week-old fluids clinging to the floor, the sight of chipping paint, and the alert feeling that made her nauseous at the thought of spending another moment there.

She just had to sit in the chair and wait until the clock struck twelve, yet even that seemed like too much labor. So she waited by the window, hoping time would pass more quickly as she gazed down at the slowly dimming lights of the city. All she could think of was her family, each day becoming more chaotic. She had come here hoping to find freedom and occupy her mind, but she had lost what little peace she had.

A clink from down the hallway caught her attention, but she remained unfazed. It was the loud 'thunk' as though someone had picked a fight with the wooden door that made her alert.

Her mind buzzed like a beehive rattled by a bear. It wasn't possible for a patient to come down this late; the gates were shut by this time. Perhaps a patient had decided to take a quick detour, but nearly all patients had been discharged except for one.

"Mr. Fraunhofer?" she called out, hoping for a response.

But there was silence in the halls. The most she heard was another 'thunk' against the wall.

Fear gripped her, and Emberline decided not to take any chances. She approached the hallway cautiously, her heart racing silently. Her trembling hand found the long needles on the bedside table, her eyes fixed on the edge of the door. She eased the door open, the rusty hinges barely making a sound, pressing the needle as though to reassure herself.

Before her was the General ward, where Mr. Fraunhofer lay. She gently pushed the door and saw the old man sleeping soundly in his bed.

Her chest felt empty of air. She closed the door of the General ward before cautiously scanning the hallway, making no sudden movements. She felt paralyzed at the thought of encountering another human.

"Helen!" she shouted out of nowhere, theorizing that the cook had come from home just to startle her, a futile attempt to summon her from thin air.

He covered her mouth, pulling her to the side as she clawed at his hands, then pinned her against the wall, staring her dead in the eye.

"Shot," he managed to say.

"Blood," he blurted.

She bit him as hard as she could, feeling the bones of his fingers as blood dripped from his hand.

The man shouted as loudly as he could, moving away from her before she could retaliate again and falling against the floor.

"No!" he managed to shout out.

"Linnetti!" the man spoke to himself, seeming entirely drunk as he lay his head on the floor, clutching his bleeding left arm.

His sleeve was entirely bloodied, making the gunshot wound apparent as more blood dripped down his hand.

"I'll kill you!" the boy shouted.

"Shush!" Ember was more concerned about the sleeping Fraunhofer now that she knew the man was at her mercy.

"Why wasn't the door open? I had to climb the wall just to come here!" he scolded her, unable to realize that she didn't know him.

Emberline focused, her confusion at this bizarre occurrence seeming to erase her training. Her eyes glared at the crumpled figure before her, her mind squinting in concentration, unsure if she had stumbled across a man or a bear.

"Am I supposed to help you?" she questioned, her heart jumping at the sudden angered look he shot her.

Nicholas looked up, realizing his mistake, and immediately regarded her as if she were speaking gibberish. "Are you a nurse?" he shouted.

Ember clenched her jaw and reluctantly replied, "Yes."

"Then yes," Nicholas snapped, his hand clutching his shoulder in pain as he folded in agony.

She just stared at him, not knowing what to do. Patients were usually brought to the beds by themselves or by someone else.

She attempted to pick him up by the hand, but he simply shouted in pain.

"What kind of nurse are you?" He looked at her incredulously, his eyes searching for a glimpse of shame in hers.

"It's not like you can't walk!" she grumbled.

"Matter of fact, I fell off a tall wall!" he seethed, despite the bleeding, not missing the opportunity for a sly comment.

Emberline felt anger and pity for the man at the same time, knowing her duty was to act on the latter.

She remembered his face, the look of depravity and the shallow voice. He was a familiar face, yet she couldn't pinpoint where she had seen him.

"Are you going to leave me here to die now?" he half-shouted.

She gave in, sitting down beside him and supporting his weight as she struggled to lift him into a sitting position against the wall. Her arms reddened from his oozing wound, feeling the crushing weight of his body on her shoulders as she tried to carry him toward the ward.

"You're causing me more pain than you're helping," he exclaimed, his voice growing louder.

He winced as she purposely bumped against the door of the surgery ward, making him wince again before he released his hands from her short frame. She watched as he shifted himself with the same feet he claimed were injured from a fall and onto one of the nearest beds.

Emberline felt her head spinning with fear and confusion. "I thought you said you had fallen?" she questioned.

"I need help getting up. I didn't walk all the way here and jump over the wall just like that," he replied, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Emberline simply stood by the door, unsure whether to assist him or not.

"Take this thing off me," he commanded, clawing at his shirt.

She stood over him, her bloodied hands now picking at his shirt. Her hands slipped it out from under his arms as she began to search for the wound again.

His wound was gnarly, but it hadn't punctured any major organs or bones. It had been shot right through his arm, nearly into the shoulder blade, damaging no major blood vessels. His eyes also traced the wound, resting momentarily on it before gazing into Emberline's eyes, her dark black eyes glistening under the moonlight, her hair pulled back into a tight bun that seemed painful. She seemed more bothered by his wound than he was, and he couldn't help but wonder how she managed to survive in this environment.

"Have you ever treated bullet wounds?" he asked, diverting her attention.

"Yes," she replied, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

He looked as though he was about to ridicule her. "Take the bullet out," he instructed, pointing to the scissors on the table nearby.

"I know!" Emberline snapped, taking the thin scissors and forcing them into the wound. Nicholas winced, sweat beading on his forehead as she took the thin knife, unsure of what to do next. She sliced the wound further to get a clearer view of the bullet, then pushed the scissors back in, trying to avoid acknowledging his pain.

Nicholas's finger darkened from her bite, blood dripping from his hand, but although his gaze rested on his finger, his mind was too numb to acknowledge the pain.

"Who shot you?" Emberline finally voiced her inquiry, her scissors finally grasping the bullet between them. She remembered from her training to keep the patient talking to distract them from the pain.

"Some man in the bar," he said casually.

"That's it?" Emberline knew it couldn't have been that simple; there must have been some altercation.

"You have better things to do than to be nosy," he retorted.

"I need to stop the bleeding," Emberline said, dabbing alcohol onto cotton and a linen cloth.

"That's cowardly," Nicholas remarked.

Emberline felt her teeth grind against each other. Dabbing the alcohol against his skin, she winced as he grunted, his hand guiding hers. She had been told to hold conversations with patients to ease their pain, but she couldn't handle this conversation anymore. She'd rather let him suffer in silence.

"Don't put the cotton inside the wound. First, sew it up or something," he instructed, his hand now resting on hers.

"I need to stop the bleeding," she repeated, freeing her hand from his grasp.

"Bring that bottle," he said, pointing to a gallon. She did as he said, remembering that Eva used it on patients before asking someone to stitch them up.

"You know about this too well," she commented hastily.

"I get stabbed so often I've memorized the doctor's medicines. Being shot is a first, but it's quite interesting how you don't know how to sew up a patient considering it's your job," he remarked, making Emberline feel a stone drop in her stomach.

"That's the doctor's job, not mine," she reminded him.

His face turned expressionless, disappointment evident. "I see," he said.

Emberline poured a large amount of the liquid onto Nicholas, causing him to flinch at the sting. A shallow scream echoed in the room, not from him, but from Emberline.

"I wasn't supposed to pour that much," she muttered.

"I could have guessed," he replied, lifting his arm but feeling the piercing pain in his shoulder.

A buzz filled the room as Nicholas seethed in pain. Ember had caused him more pain than necessary. Her awkward frame stood beside him, her hands still as a statue.

"I'll need to report you to my seniors tomorrow. I'll need your name," Emberline's voice seemed as monotonous as if she were reciting a story from a dreadful storyteller.

"You won't do that," Nicholas's voice echoed.

Emberline's eyebrow raised. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, you see, I'm not supposed to be outside the castle at all," he explained, his head shaking.

"Why?" she inquired again.

"Do you need to know?" he asked, his gaze piercing hers as she drew dark red clumps from his skin with the needle.

Emberline hesitated for a moment before replying, "Yes, I do."

Nicholas chuckled softly. "Then you won't tell anyone," he said, before suddenly asking for water in a softer tone.

She made the final stitch and brought the cloth which she wrapped loosely under his arm and over his shoulder.

"I have a habit of being absent from the institute for some personal matters, which as you know, us students are not allowed to, and having a bullet wound would mean I left the grounds for which I would get in trouble " His drunken eyes struggled to stay open.

"You've been far?" Emberline was suddenly intrigued, her heart hoped to be told what she hoped would ease her troubles.

"I have," he answered.

"How far?"

"However far my personal matters have lead me,"

"South of Odombury?" She darted with her questions.

"That's a second home," Nicholas smiled. Emberline simply hummed in response.

"Why not deny leaving the grounds entirely, I'm sure you could seek treatment openly," Emberline suggested enthusiastically.

"If I deny leaving the grounds, well, everyone will be troubled," he answered her question. "Having a gun on institutional grounds would be a big scandal," he added.

"That seems like an issue you have not thought through, your wound is deep, and it would take several days of treatment," she told him.

"I know," he turned to look at her directly in her eye, "And i dont care"

"Why would you not?"

"Well now that you have stitched me up, I'd be on my way, and when I come back, you will stay silent on the matter till Eva tends to me"

"I have to report to my seniors, then you could explain to them how you left institutional grounds and got shot,"

"I see," he chuckled, making Emberline suddenly feel dumb and obnoxious. All she wanted was to wipe that smirk off his face.

"You would be blamed for opening hospital doors to someone who every staff has been advised to not negotiate with, do you think you would go with no consequences?"

"But i didn't open the doors for you!"

"That's not what I'd say " Nicholas shrugged.

Ember felt her face flush, the vein in her temple pulsated, and she didn't know what to make of this.

"Now darling, no one should hear of this" his arm slid into his now red-dyed shirt, sneering at the pain of moving his arm. His body was still limp and wobbly. The dead silence of the night and the shallow darkness was enough to make Emberline anxious.

"Can I have some water?" He asked, suddenly softening his eyes. His eyelids drowsed, struggling to stay open. Emberline remained still, pretending she hadn't heard Nicholas's request.

Emberline fought to keep her composure. But when he fell unconscious on the bed, her heart dropped, Emberline exerted every ounce of her strength in a desperate attempt to rouse the slumbering boy from his deep, seemingly endless sleep, but to no avail. Her hands trembled as they gently brushed against his clammy, bare chest, where his heart continued to beat, an unyielding rhythm amidst the uncertainty that enveloped the dimly lit room.

Yet, it was not the man's inert form that weighed heaviest on Emberline's mind; it was the impending reckoning with the unknown circumstances that troubled her conscience. If, by some fateful twist, he were to remain unconscious till the time someone were to stumble upon this scene in the hospital, her mind raced with the possible narratives she could employ to veil the truth.

Emberline stared at the lifeless body before her, hysteria halted her thoughts. He slept soundly while she ran around thinking she had accidentally killed him. She checked his wound, it seemed normal and unflooded, She caressed his forehead, perhaps she had missed a fever? His breath was slow and he didn't move for a moment. Emberline panicked, she felt a sudden urgency as she heard the clock tick with each passing second.

"It is okay," she told herself. "Everything is fine, Everything will be fine,"

"He's not that heavy, I'll toss him behind the Castle and go back,"

She looked at him with malicious intent. She questioned whether she had the guts to do such a thing.

"I'll give him to Mr Gus," she concocted another plan. The silence made her voice her words, and she felt herself going crazy. Her eyes struggled to remain open and her mind froze.

"I'll give him to Paula," she made changes. but she knew deep down she would be in bigger trouble if he didn't wake up.

"I don't even want this job! Why am I risking my life for it!" she mumbled to herself, She felt that any outside spectator would most definitely think she had lost her mind.

"Water," he mumbled. Emberline felt her feet and she realised her presence again.

"What?" listening closely to each word that escaped his mouth. "Water," he said again, his expression shuffled, first showing distress and then his brows furrowed in anger. Emberline looked at him with clear direction.

"Water" she repeated in her head. She almost immediately stood and ran to steal the flask by Mr Fraunhofer's side, The sound-asleep old man couldn't make much of a difference. His hand clutched the warm water in her hands and with great intent as though she didn't trust herself to not throw it on the floor.

The hall where he remained was large and any sound anyone made would echo, yet she didn't realise when he had gotten the energy to get up and leave the room despite being wounded and unconscious a moment ago. She felt herself choke on her breath, he was gone. Through, where? she didn't know. She didn't know if she was to be scared or relieved. All she knew was that it was not a matter of her concern anymore. Or if it had been turned into a problem, it would be dealt with later.. Her fear overtook her senses once more, feeling as though she had encountered a ghost, he was gone, leaving her with a blood-stained sheet to change and a glass of water she wished she could bring herself to drink.