his lips were crimson [vampire]

three

CHAPTER THREE

DENALI WATCHED DR. GLOVER AS SHE LOOKED DOWN AT THE TABLE IN FRONT OF HER CURIOUSLY. They'd been in the room for almost ten minutes now and hadn't shared a single word. Dr. Glover kept her eyes attentively glued to John Doe's chart the whole time; she seemed slightly confused by the results, unable to decipher the meaning behind them.

"Who checked him in?" She pushed her back against the hospital chair, poking a pen between her lips as she chewed on the end of the pen cap.

"Um," Denali cleared her throat. "The interns."

"And who took him to get the scans?"

"The interns again."

"Were you watching them?" She perked an eyebrow up, taking a one-second glance at Dani before returning back to the sheet.

"No, I went to re-energize myself."

It wasn't in Denali's original plan to stay later than what she was scheduled to, but when John Doe arrived at the hospital, she was the only third year intern near the emergency room.

She knew that in order to be the best doctor she could be, she needed to scarf down a BLT sandwich and a cup of coffee to keep herself alert and energized. Which is why she asked the interns to run scans on John Doe. It was a task she knew they could do without the help of another doctor.

"Is there a problem with them?" Dani asked, leaning closer to Dr. Glover.

"Not at all. It just seems weird that all of the tests came out clean."

"What do you mean?"

Dr. Glover handed the chart over to Dani as she flipped through the pages in fascination and disarray. They were sitting at the foot of John Doe's bed, and even though he looked lifeless lying between the white bedsheets, his heavy breaths indicated he was alive and well.

"How are they clean?" Denali flipped to the front page again before starting another rotation. From what she was reading, there was no trace of alcohol or drugs in his system, no signs of brain damage, bad organs or a seizure. On paper, John Doe was in a perfect, healthy body. There was absolutely no reason for him to be in a comatose state.

"I don't know. I figured maybe one of the interns switched up his sheets with someone else's, or something else along the lines of that."

"Well, we could always run the tests again."

"We could," she shrugged. "But to my knowledge, he's the only person who's been checked out tonight."

"But it wouldn't make sense for him to be this healthy."

"I don't know," Dr. Glover sighed, laying her hands on the table in front of her. "I can run some tests on him myself, but without an ID, I'm not sure there's much we can do for him."

Standing up, Denali handed her the chart back as she made her way over to the side of John Doe's bed. He seemed peaceful, his skin rich in color as his thin lips curved slightly upward. Denali placed her hand down on his wrist as she rubbed circles into the palm of the hand. She couldn't help but feel bad for him.

It's not like they knew who he was, what medication they could provide him, what tests they were allowed to run or what surgeries they were allowed to perform. They were sitting ducks, waiting on a man who had no identity.

When she removed her hand from his, his fingers slightly twitched from reflex, revealing faint lines on his wrist. She bent down closer to his arm, curious as to what the markings were.

It looked like a barcode but it was missing the numbers under it. It was worn out and faint like a tattoo with too much sun exposure. The marking popped out slightly and felt as rigid as a metal plate.