Victor - A Short Story

II.

"Defibrillation is a treatment for life-threatening cardiac dysrhythmias, specifically ventricular fibrillation and non-perfusing ventricular tachycardia," Mr. Krempe mumbled; his strong accent almost rendered him unintelligible. "A defibrillator delivers a dose of electric current to the heart..."

My mind wandered as my eyes fell onto the actual apparatus in the middle of the lecture room. The two paddles piled on top of one another, looming over the unfortunate dummy – who, with two targets painted on either breast had remarkable resemblance to the little mermaid.

"Our goal today is to discern between our modern methods and that of the 1800s. As the involvement of electricity is in both, how far have we evolved since the said 1800s – in addition, of course to our varying beliefs, as we are unfortunately unable to go to drastic measures such as reviving the dead with electricity, despite what people prior believed." Mr. Krempe coughed.

"Please proceed in one line behind our test subject," he chuckled, "as I'm afraid no one breathing has volunteered."

I opened my mouth, but decided against it.

The students ahead of me took turns grasping the handles of the paddles and placing them on their corresponding targets; the whir of the machine already weakening as it came to the third little-mermaid-mutilator.

I twirled my hair with a finger, yawning vacantly.

Come my turn, I grasped the handles. The defibrillator whirred weakly, jumping an octave every two seconds. I pressed the paddles firmly against the dummy's chest, awaiting the pulse of electricity.

It came, and I was surprised as it coursed through a different dummy. Me.

The world went black as I thumped to the floor.

*****

I pried my eyes open, hissing as pain poured through my body. A metallic taste tingled my tongue as I swallowed, grimacing. Then the prickly pain transitioned to a feeling of numbness. I couldn't feel my arms or legs, it was as if I weighed nothing.

I groaned and lifting my head scanned my surroundings, expecting students stooping over me...

Well, slap two targets on me and call me the little mermaid. I was swimming in the air.

Or – flying. Again, it didn't matter. My stomach squirmed as I hovered ten meters above ground, the castle of Ingolstadt University nowhere to be seen.  The wind whipped wildly. I received cold caresses on my cheeks; wind snaked between my arms and legs. I reached a hand over to my arm, with an intent to pinch myself.

Nothing happened. If anything, the wind blew harder as if I'd pinched it instead.

My physical feeling, the characteristic that made me human, was gone. I felt numb all too literally now. You'd think my heavy heart would weigh me down...

That is to say– if I had one.

I sighed, screwing my eyes shut. "How bothersome..."

Suddenly, a stick snapped somewhere behind me.

I jumped (as you do in the air) and without thinking reached my two arms in front of me, making speedy circular movements in sync with my frantic feet; propelling myself forward. My heart hammered, and I craned my neck behind me, immediately wishing I hadn't.

Her- His- Its yellow skin scarcely covered the array of arteries and muscles beneath (yet showed less skin than those sporting skirts and no-coverage crop-tops at Ingolstadt), its hair an oily black, its teeth as white as its ivory pupils, shrouded by a cloak of shriveled black lips.

The wind weakened now, the sky paling.

It was as if it had been birthed in the cafeteria, a true horror to behold.

I couldn't distinguish between the whites of its eyes from its pupils; I'd have thought it was blind...

If it hadn't looked straight at me.

*****

Have you ever seen a bird, feathers ruffled, squawking in terror, arms and limbs frantically flailing, roughly 5'9?

Yeah, me neither.

I imagine that's what I looked like, though.

This creature– this violation of the dress code (among others) looked at me.

I couldn't tell if it'd seen me or not, but I saw it. Those two dips dented into its skull, two milky circular orbs seeing straight into my soul– and gosh knows if I have one, but it felt like it. As if the milky substance had slowly seeped into me, grasped a choke on my throat and slowly trickled out my eyes, making mine mirror the creature's milky ones. If this experience does anything to me, it'd be checking milk off of the grocery list.

The creature huffed heavily and turned his back, the smell of sulfur and rotten eggs wafting ten meters upwards and– again, eliminating another object from the grocery list. I had to have maintained the sense of smell.

The creature stood still, as did I. I cleared my throat quietly and attempted to slowly sail away, inhaling in suspense. My heart raced. I hadn't even noticed my holding my breath.

I began kicking on my back, my eyes never straying from the creature's hunched, stiff stature. I rose a meter upwards, but for some reason, never increased the distance between us. I swallowed and thrashed harder, grunting with effort. A 'twang' sounded between me and the creature, and an invisible force tugged on my waist in the direction of it.

I ran a hand tiredly through my hair and jerked my head upwards, "Why?" I raised my hands to my face and tugged my cheeks, "Just– why?"

The wind resumed whistling, yet I remained anchored in place. If anything, the wind hooked my arms and pushed me in the creature's direction. I attempted to kick again, but the presence of the invisible umbilical cord remained.

Then the creature began to walk, dragging me along with it.

I exhaled sharply, rubbing the bridge of my nose roughly.

I could see a long window of muscle bordered by yellow skin stiffen at the creature's calf as it began it's lumber. I gagged; it was a lesson on human anatomy I never asked for. I waved my arms in front of my waist, feeling for the transparent rope that was converting me into a human helium balloon. I clenched my teeth. That's right, I couldn't feel, but I could very well smell.

No matter how hard I scavenged my memory, I couldn't come up with one instance where my professors warned me of episodes of floating and numbness.