the beginning, my alerts were called into question, this is no longer the case today. The doctors trust me completely. He immediately prepares the defibrillator and everyone waits in silence to intervene at the right time. We are not going to electrocute a man whose heart beats at a regular rate. I am sure of my prognosis, but one thing puzzles me: it is not the first shapeshifter that I deal with, even if it is rather rare to receive them in this hospital, and I know that their metabolism differs of humans. They usually heal quickly. Much faster than us. but, this man is as damaged as when he was admitted. None of these wounds have started to heal and he has not regained consciousness once. Something is missing. An anomaly that I cannot identify and that seems important, and the presence of a trace of bite in his neck worries me. I’ll be doing a thorough search later. Maybe his blood test will tell me more about him. For now, no time to wonder any longer about this anomaly. The heart sensor starts to slow down.
– We are losing him, let's move away.
The doctor performs the first electric shock without any results.
– We increase the power.
Another shock followed by manual pulmonary ventilation by me while Ashley takes care of the resuscitation device.
– Again.
At the third discharge, the patient finally stabilizes. His heart curve takes regular peaks. A new discreet physical contact on his hand allows me to confirm that he is out of danger. For the moment, anyway. Only the future will tell us if he is finally saved. I will keep an eye on him closely until the first sign of awakening and then I will stand back, keeping the promise made to my parents.
– Another great job, Miss Slat. Someday you'll have to explain to me how you're doing to predict the aggravation of patient health when there is nothing indicates to us. You allow us to do miracles. You saved the life of this canine. It would be very helpful to have more nurses like you.
I smile at him blushing and shrugging my shoulders because I have no answer for him. I do not know how my talent works and I have long considered it as a malediction, because I have no control over it. I have always had this ability, as far back as my memory goes, and my parents forbade me to talk about it to anyone. They have been very clear on this point. Interdict to talk about this and my physical imperfection, because people would instantly reject me. My family had a precept: people do not like those who are different,to blend into the masses. I followed their advice and it has been pretty successful so far.
That's when two men appear in the room. Very imposing, broad with shoulders and a muscular body, they hardly pass in the frame of the door and are impressive. Their faces are closed and their eyes glisten with reflections of molten gold. shapeshifters, without a doubt. I’ve never seen them in excellent physical shape and the malevolence that they give off makes me uncomfortable. I take a step back to find myself in a dark corner of the room. Probably useless reaction, because they scrutinize only the man lying under the sheet, without more interest for the people around.
– Tsss, tsss, tsssss, why did you resuscitate him? We will have to do the job again now. This time, we will not leave until we are sure of the success of our mission.
Repeat what? What mission? Their facial expression may be neutral, but their intentions seem bad.
Ashley immediately stands in front of them, hiding their view of the wolf. She barely reaches them at shoulder level, but you shouldn't trust her frail body, my friend can be fierce if necessary.
– Sorry gentlemen, visits are prohibited in this area. Are you family?
Without even giving her a look, the more hefty of the two, a long haired brown, a gash on the cheek, gives her a violent blow on the head. I scream when I see my friend falls to the ground like an inert mass, blood on her temple, unfortunately drawing all their attention to me. They then approach me with a flexible but threatening approach. Real predators and I became their prey. I understand better why my parents taught me to stay away from animorphs. My supervisor courageously tries to intervene despite an undeniable difference in size. My colleague looks like an unlucky hobbit against two orcas! There is a clear imbalance of forces. Unfortunately for him, the second man grabs him by the neck and makes him tumble against the wall at the other end of the room without any difficulty, as if he weighed no more than a feather, making him losing consciousness. So I find myself alone facing them and in all lucidity, I do not make the weight against these two brutes with doubtful intentions. From my height of sixty centimeters and fifty poor kilos, I certainly do not have the strength to push back males who seem so swollen with steroids that their veins stick out on their biceps. I have to not to lose time while I wait for the guards to arrive.
My shout must have raised the alarm and the reinforcements should not be long in coming. I absolutely must make them speak. I can do that. When I stress, I talk nonstop, a real blabbermouth. The only problem, I am beyond stress, I am rather terrified, which ties my throat instead of untie my tongue.
– What do you want ? I can certainly help you.
– Just to resolve a clan business. Nothing that concerns you, doll. Stay quiet and you’ll only get a small bump on your head. You are of no interest to us and you should not try to save this traitor again.
Ashley’s aggressor looks at his accomplice, indicating with a head movement the inanimate and defenseless patient on his hospital bed, giving him a silent command. I want to intervene, but Mister scar blocks my way by placing himself on my path without taking my eyes off, blocking my visibility on the patient. I have to tilt my head to the side to observe the sequence of events. The one I suppose to be the underling goes towards the patient and plunges his hand directly into the thorax of the wolf without hesitating for a second, as if everything was normal, clutching what must be his heart until the outline of the electrocardiogram is flat. The distress beep is deafening in my ears and a cry of terror sticks in the back of my throat in the face of the horror of the situation. I am there, helpless, attending a real execution. Once satisfied with the work of his partner, Mr. Muscle stares at me again and takes a deep breath to smell my perfume, smell is an essential sense for them. I know it’s a shapeshifter's reflex, which doesn’t prevent me from being uncomfortable, as if someone had touched me without asking my permission. His eyes suddenly widen and he grunts as he rolls up his lips, discovering long, sharp fangs. That’s a bad sign. It seems that the scent of my soap displeases him. I stammer more than I speak.
– Sorry, my perfume is a little strong.
– Fatel, you shouldn't exist. I will solve this problem immediately. My ancestors didn't do it all for nothing. The fight is not over.
What is he talking about ? He is crazy. The fatels have indeed disappeared. I learned this during my history lessons when I was a child, without knowing under what circumstances. The fatels are invoked only for the scientific advances they have allowed. It is not a very glorious story, and both humans and shapeshifters prefer to ignore their inaction and the consequences on the world that this has engendered. I was only a baby when the last fatel was massacred and my parents are all human. Trying to understand his intention to kill me, although his reason eludes me, I try to dodge towards the door, but he grabs my arm with incredible force. My bone creaks in a terrible noise, but I don't have time to scream my pain when sharp claws like razor blades pierce the flanks to hold me against his chest. He then plunges his nose into my hair and inhales again.
– You smell magic. It's going to be a real delight. Don't move, it'll be fast. Or almost.
That's when the second man, thinner, but just as athletic, sniffed my neck before planting his fangs deeply.
– How is it possible ? I thought this people have disappeared.
– And it is the case because she will join them into nothingness.
– As soon as we take what we want?
– Of course. The strength tenfold is for us.
Please no. They won't settle for a bump at the end. A huge ball of anxiety clogs my larynx. They cut my stomach, bite my collarbone several times, sucking my blood like vampires, except that they are only fiction and my aggression is real. It looks like they are enjoying torturing me. I feel my strength give up as my blood spills over the white tiles, forming a