Viscious 2: Cult of Kellan

Waiting Room.

   

       We arrive at the emergency reception doors and the ambulance doors burst open. I practically run behind the medics to keep up, one hand fisted at the edge of the gurney in refusal to let go. Nurses and doctors rush behind us, and some before us as they use ID cards to open doors ahead. Everything beyond Dallas is a blur, as my head spins with worries. I know I will be forced to part with him soon, and as we approach the large double doors ahead with caution signs, noise warnings and employee only signs with heavy security gadgets. This must be where they will take him for surgery. I speed up and grab his hand, but an officer comes from my side and pulls my arm. Dallas's hand slips from mine as he disappears behind the doors.

         We walk in silence as another joins us. We end up in the waiting room, and I am ushered into a private area where surgeons and families would meet for updates. One officer tosses a paper gown from his pocket at me, and I catch it and put it over myself for modesty. Not that I will have much now. I look at my feet, feeling smaller and more defeated than I have in such a long time. Im not certain how I will get through this, when all I can focus on are the paramedics words repeating to me what I was terrified to acknowledge. Dallas might not survive. How can I concentrate on this, when my only person could be dying rooms away?

        "So, records indicate you've been through this a few times. You already know what I expect." The officer yawns and props his head on his hands as he stares me down.

          I straighten as best I can, and I begin my story. They are confused, at first, as I begin from the beginning of our day out together. They interrupt a few times, but I keep going as if they are not there. One listens while another feverishly documents. I give them the description of the creepy photographer, and I even mention how odd it was that he was able to walk straight in with us when we lost him after the movie. I mention that I figured he had watched us somehow before and made reservations too. I end my story after I believe I killed him, and during CPR where they came in.

         "So, you believe he was that same guy?"

          "Has to be."

           "You admit to killing him?"

           "Yes. Or at least I think he is dead."

            "He is. You succeeded. Was that your intention?"

             "Yes."

              "You realize you will likely be charged with this, correct? You willing killed that man."

             "I do. I did. He willingly tried to kill Dallas, and he cane for me. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. I'll say temporary insanity, like all the other assholes who get away with these things. Isn't that what the girl who attacked me in my old house claimed? It obviously worked."

            "You aren't insane."

            "You don't know that."

             "Your smart ass will fry you in court. I know you are hurting, but you might have royally screwed yourself here. As it stands, you are a murderer."

            "Neither was she, but she got out of everything. As it stands, I've been accused of nothing less ever since I was rescued last time."

           "So you understand if we take you in, what you might be facing?"

           "If you take me in for self defense, you will face public backlash. That 'man' came into Dallas's house with intention to kill us. Was I wrong really to kill him before he killed us? Do you think he would go peacefully after he shot a man?"