The Unnaturals (Discontinued)

Nineteen.

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it! Enjoy!

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I had never liked hospitals very much. They reminded me of my step-mother. But this hospital was different. Dr. Green explained it was exclusively for supernaturals, giving me some relief. I didn't dislike humans as a whole, but they made me uncomfortable. In my experience, if they weren't judging me for my two extra appendages, they were screaming at me to punch another supernatural until one of us was unconscious.

We pulled up to the modern, clean building, and Mr. Blackbourne was quick to open my door for me. I smiled and thanked him, and he gave me a minuscule grin in return. It lit up his whole face, transforming cold perfection into immaculate beauty. The boys escorted me into the waiting room. This too was different from other hospitals. The decor was more like a hotel's and it smelled closer to flowers than bleach. Immediately, we were given a room to go to and nurses and doctors smiled at Dr. Green as we walked through the halls. The room we stopped at was small, with a sink in one corner and an examination bed in the other. Two plush chairs were pushed underneath a window. Medical posters adorned the walls and I noticed-- with some satisfaction-- that one of them displayed a man with wings. I plopped down on the examination bed and tried to keep from bouncing with nerves.

"I hope you don't mind needles," Dr. Green said as he washed his hands. "I need to take some blood tests."

"No, I don't," I responded. "I have two of them in my mouth after all." I smiled and let my fangs drop.

"I would hardly call those needles. They're so small."

"Well, why don't you come over here and I can show you just how sharp they are."

"I'll take your word for it." He brought over a clamp which he put on my finger. A screen lit up as it began taking my heart rate. "That's a bit high. Anxious?"

"A little. Hospitals make me nervous."

"Understandable." He took my blood pressure then scribbled on a chart. "Let's go get your height and weight, then we'll go down to the lab for blood tests. Owen, wait here."

"See you soon, Ms. Sorenson."

"Goodbye, Mr. Blackbourne."

Dr. Green led me to an area with a scale and a vertical measuring stick. He grumbled about my weight, cursing the handlers in the fight ring and insisting I eat more. Down in the lab, he took several vials of my oily, silver blood. He looked at me, then the blood, then back at me.

"Don't worry. We'll get you better in no time," he reassured me with a smile.

"I know, but I can't help but feel like it's my fault."

"Why?"

"When I would fight, I-I'd drain my opponents of blood until I could knock them out with one hit. Most of them had blood as bad as mine."

"Sang, look at me." He placed his hands on my shoulders. "That wasn't your fault. None of it was your fault. You did what you had to in order to survive."

"Thanks." I smiled at him, but it didn't feel real. I could have tried harder to escape. I could have fought fair. My mind ran wild with the what ifs.

"If you ever want to talk, know that you can come to any of us. We'll listen."

"I appreciate that, Dr. Green."

"None of that," he chuckled. "Please, call me Sean."

"Dr. Sean." He laughed.

"Better."