(IC) New York by Night: GtSE

[Bennosuke]

Prelude

Every love story is a ghost story
-David Foster Wallace


“NO!”, was the only word that you could gather as you sat in this place that may be hell, or some sort of underworld. The echo of “NO!” was an utter and absolute rejection of what had happened to you, of where you were now, and this refusal was all you had.

You remember the sound of the man’s pistol shot ringing out in the ER, the thunderous pop. You remember the pain in your chest, your physician’s analytical mind diagnosing the severed pulmonary vessel as blood filled your mouth and you began to cough up blood, and drown in it. You remember more blood slipping through your hands as you tried to put pressure on the wound, your hands turning slick and stained crimson.

Then you remember the second shot, the sudden pain, and the world ripping open.

Now you were sitting on the banks of a large river (bigger than the Hudson maybe?), squelching in the mud, though nothing seems to stick to your body. The outlines of your hands seem to flicker like the flames of a candle, and you know you are not breathing. Now all you have is, “NO!”

The river seems to cast a feint blue glow on the banks of the river, though the water is not luminescent. The riverbank is all mud and refuse; a shredded and tattered collection of lost teddy bears and body parts. Fleshless skulls and grasping hands litter the soil, hard and cold, inert trash like the rest of the plastic garbage that has collected in the mud. You scramble in the damp earth to a severed foot. It is cold and hard like stone in your hands.

The brackish waters roar against the banks where you sit. Your ears prick at the far-off chorus of a thousand voices moaning and crying in a discordant un-harmony. The disembodied screams swell and disappear with the rush of the glowing tides. You look around, but only see far off hoards of shifting faceless bodies. But these are far too far away to be making such a loud noise.

But the voices are suddenly silenced by the approach of a humanoid silhouette. The presence seems to float above the river, it’s massive dark form eclipsing the glowing blue water. The thing comes across the river till it is on the bank with you, blocking out he light of the water and the screams with its very presence, though it is nothing more than a massive black shadow against the glow of the river. “Hello mortal,” the thing cackles, “was it YOUR delicious defiance that has summoned me?”

[Erulasto]

Ephemeral hands pressed against her chest where the bullets had found purchase in flesh, the shock of the situation like icy in veins that didn’t seem to carry a pulse any longer.

Was she dead?

No. No! This couldn’t be how it all ended. There was still so much left to do. To accomplish. So many loved ones she’d never see again.

But was this detritus-ladden riverbank all that existed when the heart had stopped beating at its terminus?

Her mother had spoken of choirs of Angels, and a white pearly gate. The Eastern Orthodox priests had given sermons back in Greece about Saint Peter sitting at the gate and weighing the good and the bad of the souls that lined before him.

This?

This is not what Natasha had been expecting.

When the stange shadow-thing loomed above her, Natasha didn’t feel the fear she had expected. Perhaps she was still in shock. Did the dead still experience shock?

After a moment, she spoke with a voice parched as if it hadn’t drunk in a lifetime.

”I…don’t know.” It was the truth. Had she called this thing? Somehow? ”Who…what are you?”

[Bennosuke]

The silhouette thing's laughter was harsh and rasping in reply to Natasha's question. It was coming closer, growing larger in Natasha's view till she could see the long beak-like protrusion that extended from it's face. The right hand of the apparition clutched a long bloody kitchen knife, Natasha could see, the limb and the blade together seeming to drip an unending rain of blood. "I am The Chiurgeon," it replied, "and I am here because of you." The beak did not move, and two red glowing pits stared out at Natasha from where the thing's eyes should be, the amber finally shedding enough light on the the monster's form.

[Erulasto]

As the spectre loomed over her in the detritus-filled muck, some recognition twigged in her memory. Old images from med school of the Plague Doctors of old flashed to her mind. The strange, beak-like masks protruding grotesquely from under a wide-brimmed hat, or from within the shadowed confines of a tattered hood.

Natasha gasped, though no breath was drawn into her lungs – which in and of itself was a strangely surreal experience.

”Because…of me?” She asked, ”I’m…dead…aren’t I?” From the cracking voice, it was clear she was afraid of whatever answer she would receive. Even as the memories of the gunshots and choking on her own blood lingered in the periphery of her mind.

[Bennosuke]

The specter laughs again; a harsh rasping mirthful laugh. "Yes, you are little one," the thing says as it draws near, seeming to relish Natasha's reaction, "you are quiet dead!" As it comes closer, moving without steps, Natasha can see the gaping wound in the thing's left breast, right where it's heart should be.

If Natasha brings a hand to her chest, she finds the gunshot wounds are open as well, though only the slightest trickle of cold dark blood leaks from the wounds.

Continuing, the Churgeon says, "Don't look so sad. I am not some Reaper here to drag you down to the darkest of Hells. Noooo, quiet the opposite. Your defiance called me to you, and if you can show me more, perhaps I have a proposition for you!" The thing's voice seems to boom and echo, as if the two were standing in a network of caves, rather than on the banks of this impossible river.

[Erulasto]

Natasha could feel the cold pit of panic rising in her throat, while wide and unblinking eyes fought her attempts to look at anything other than the specter before her and its pit-like eyes. It was, however, the gaping hole in its chest where the heart should have been that offered a measure of respite. Some clinical curiosity piqued, and Natasha brought the fingers of her hand to her own gunshot wounds.

She rubbed fingertips through the trickle of blood, feeling the texture before prodding at the wounds to see if there was any physiological changes. Being dead was, at least, interesting. But even that was perhaps brought on by shock of some kind. Was there shock if you were dead? She was dead and would never see Chloe again. How did her mind seem so intact without a functioning central nervous system? She was at least lucid enough to acknowledge that asking such questions was not a sane response to this insanity.

"You're not taking me to Heaven looking like that." Natasha giggled out, still a bit delerious from the raging emotions barely held together with thread. Panic barely held at bay by a studious mind. "What...kind of proposition? What could I possibly show you?"

[Bennosuke]

To Natasha's shock, when she places her fingers inside the bullet wound (a strange enough experience) the cavity seems to lack any structure, bones, or organs. Instead, it is like the wound is filled with a very viscous and stretchy jelly; though it is nearly ice cold. The probing goes from mildly uncomfortable to a burning pain that radiates from Natasha's chest down all the way to her toes, forcing her to remove her fingers and stifle a scream.

The Churgeon watches this with curiosity but does not appear amused for once, and says nothing.

In reply to Natasha's question The Churgeon says flatly, "I wish to go back to the world, as do you. You do not accept death, and that is why I was drawn to you. If you are willing, I can take us both back. You can go back to your body, and to your life, and to your... Chloe." The creature says the name as if it were a delicious revelation, as if the name had just been surgically removed from Natasha's brain. Watching how Natasha reacts, the Geist says, "Yes, that is right. I can bring you back to your darling, what was it that you call her, 'Snug-bear'? You were going to propose to her, yes?" Somehow, The Churgeon's words feel like a violation, like it has been watching Natasha in the bathroom when she thought she was alone. But the promise, the idea of going back... could Natasha deny her desire (no her NEED) to go back, to get as far away from this hell as possible?

[Erulasto]

Natasha bit back the scream as much as she could as her fingers found purchase in something. Something agonizing. Something that defied all logic; as if this place played by the rules of logic!

The doctor narrowed her eyes as the pain subsided, anger bubbling up at the notion of her deepest thoughts and - even her love life being invaded so casually.

"How do you know that?" She asked, caustically. But her anger at the Chiurgeon was short-lived in the face of the idea that she could go back. Back to her life. Back to her hospital. Back to Chloe. Snug-bear wasn't something she said often, or ever in the presence of friends and family. Mostly because despite the love in her heart, something about her pride prevented the young doctor from being so...cute.

"So...you can bring me back. Back to life. Away from all..this" Natasha said carefully, waving her hand out at the river and the muddy banks that surrounded it. "Let's say, for a moment, I agree." She would. "What do you get out of it? How do you come back?"

Was this making a proverbial Faustian bargain?

[Bennosuke]

"How do you know that?" She asked, caustically. But her anger at the Chiurgeon was short-lived in the face of the idea that she could go back. Back to her life. Back to her hospital. Back to Chloe. Snug-bear wasn't something she said often, or ever in the presence of friends and family. Mostly because despite the love in her heart, something about her pride prevented the young doctor from being so...cute.

Seeming to relish Natasha's anger and hurt, the apparition says, "Your soul is bare down here. She is the most important thing to you, and your thoughts on her scream to me like a stereo on the highest volume. She is the reason for your defiance, your reason to return." This is said confidently, like an assessment of Natasha, like pointing out the color of her hair.

"So...you can bring me back. Back to life. Away from all..this" Natasha said carefully, waving her hand out at the river and the muddy banks that surrounded it. "Let's say, for a moment, I agree." She would. "What do you get out of it? How do you come back?"

Was this making a proverbial Faustian bargain?

The Churgeon moves closer still, now so that it could reach out and touch Natasha with it's terrifyingly long arms. "That is simple," it says through the ancient looking physician's mask, "I would come with you. I would be able to return to the land of the living, and you would help me... remember what I need to finish." This last sentence was odd, as if the Churgeon were confused by what it was saying, or by the meaning behind its own words. It's red eyes studied Natasha expectantly, now filled with a certain nervousness.

[Erulasto]

The spectre wasn't wrong. The logical part of Natasha's brain knew that. Ever since her Grandfather had passed, she was greedily hoping that she would not lose another she loved. Being dead was like losing them, wasn't it?

"Would...I be in control of myself? Would I still be me?"

[Bennosuke]

The Geist tilts its head at this question, lifting the knife to its chin and using the tip to scratch its chin as if in deep thought. Though the knife does leave bloody furrows in the not-skin that quickly close up on their own. "You would still be you my pretty one," The Chugeon replies, "and you would still be in control... that is unless you want me to take control." Perhaps it is unclear to Natasha what that means but the apparition seems not to pick up on any emotion that crosses her face. Continuing, the Geist says, "It is more that we would be tied to each other. You would have access to some of my power, be able to see what I see. But you would still be you." T

he Churgeon pauses here for a moment, before hastily reiterating, "But in return I would expect your help." Trying to rush past this The Churgeon adds, "But what is really important is that we would return, and you would be able to continuing living, and being with Chloe."

Before Natasha can mull this over, there is a terrible cacophonous shrieking that sounds almost like the ringing of a thousand evil bells. The Churgeon's form seems to shrink backwards at this noise, startled and defensive. It rushes back to Natasha speaking more rapidly now, "Now is the time Natasha." Its words are almost pleading. "You must make up your mind. I offer you the bargain of life, of a second chance. Now hurry up and take it," the Churgeon cries, extending its empty left hand for Natasha to take in hers in a binding handshake.

[Erulasto]

Natasha listened to the words that the Chiurgeon spoke. They were exactly what she was hoping to hear. It was almost too good to be true. Still be herself. Still be able to spend her life with Chloe. Maybe even have a bit of this...things...power to help protect Chloe? That had to be an added bonus.

The freshly-deceased Doctor pushed to her feet at the terrible sound, eyes flitting out across the landscape to see what was the cause of such a horrible cacophany. Even as she looked, she stepped closer to the Geist.

"Yes." She said resolutely, offering her hand to the Chiurgeon. "We have a deal!"

[Bennosuke]

Natasha takes the Churgeon's ice cold hand in hers, shaking left hand with left hand. The physical contact between the two is punctuated by the sudden rush or sensations. Natasha is slammed with the sound of a rolling tide distantly lapping against creaking wood. Her nostrils suddenly filled with the sweet smell of salt spray mixed with the odor of fresh roses. None of these sensations is particularly powerful, but the sudden invasion of Natasha's senses practically knocks her off of her feet. These hallucinations are clearly coming from The Churgeon, whose red eyes seem to be lidded in a moment of apparent reverence. It is unclear if The Churgeon is trying to show Natasha something, or if these visions are simply intrinsic to her contact and or bargain with this spirit. The sensations fade the moment Natasha lets go of the The Churgeon's hand, though they remain somehow imprinted on her brain, a part of her now; the smell of the sea and of roses seeming to stick deep into her skin and clothing.

[Erulasto]

As the salty scent of the sea mixed with the cloying luster of roses, Natasha inhaled deeply as if trying to fill now-dead lungs with as much as she could muster. It was a wonderful bouquet that made her think of memories she wasn’t entirely sure were even hers.

But as the quixotic, heady sensation poured through her being, she released that ice-cold hand and fell to her knees gasping.

”What….” She began, disoriented. ”What was that?”

[Bennosuke]

"Memories... I think," The Churgeon says, and for the first time there is a hint of human emotion behind the thing's words; a sadness that sits heavily on every syllable, "or fragments of memories, I think."

As the Churgeon's remembered sensations fade and Natasha comes back to her own senses, she can feel a heaviness to her body; a change that takes a moment or two to fully recognize. There is a small chain necklace hanging from Natasha's neck, weighted down by a small iron key rusted to the color of dried blood. The think is fashioned after that of an ancient cartoon skeleton key with two teeth that are spread out and pointed to appear as a pair of fangs. It's head is made of a series of delicate laces that weave together the figure of a crown.

The Churgeon appears to be staring at this key now, and Natasha can only imagine a please smile spreading behind it's beak mask. Suddenly aware that it has been caught staring, The Churgeon looks over its shoulder and says, "There is not much time now. You and I must return to the surface now! If you have any questions, ask them now." It looks over it's shoulder again, perhaps looking for the source of that shrieking bell sound.

[Erulasto]

”Do you…know who you were before you came here? How…long have you been here?” Natasha asked two of the plethora of questions that had been ruminating in the logical part of her mind.

When she noticed the key about her neck, she plucked it from her chest and raised it – still on the chain about her neck – to inspect the dried flecks of blood on the old iron.

”What is this? It feels…heavy.” Natasha mused thoughtfully for a moment. When she caught the Chiurgeon glancing over its shoulder, she looked in the same direction.

”I’m ready to go when you are. I don’t like it down here. But…I am curious. What are you so afraid of here?”

[Bennosuke]

”Do you…know who you were before you came here? How…long have you been here?” Natasha asked two of the plethora of questions that had been ruminating in the logical part of her mind.

The Churgeon shakes its head in the negative, "I remember very little anymore. I have been down here too long, drunk too much of the river's waters. I was once like you I think... but that was long ago." There is an introspection and a solemnity that was certainly more human than Natasha expected out of this monstrous apparition.

When she noticed the key about her neck, she plucked it from her chest and raised it – still on the chain about her neck – to inspect the dried flecks of blood on the old iron.

”What is this? It feels…heavy.” Natasha mused thoughtfully for a moment. When she caught the Chiurgeon glancing over its shoulder, she looked in the same direction.

The Churgeon reaches out as if to hold the key that Natasha holds, but stops itself short. "That is your key," The Churgeon says with a certain excitement, "a memento of our bargain, and a powerful tool. You are a Sin Eater now, capable to entering and leaving the lands of the dead as you need. There are many doors, both external and internal that you will need to access, and this key will help you. You will know what to do with it when the time comes."

”I’m ready to go when you are. I don’t like it down here. But…I am curious. What are you so afraid of here?”

Stepping forward the Churgeon says, "The shrieking you hear is a Reaper, and if I am correct it is getting closer. Most likely it was drawn to the same mortal desperation that I sensed in you. But we do not want to be found by the Reaper, it wishes the opposite for you of me. It would trap you down here, devour your soul and let your memories disintegrate into nothingness."

(OOC: Gonna let Natash respond before moving things further)

[Erulasto]

The Chiurgeon’s words were educational, to be sure. But it was unlikely that Natasha had any real chance to mull them over; to process and compartmentalize the information into something useful. Part of her was sure that would come when she had no pressing matters at hand. When she was alone in the dead of night and sleep did not come easily.

”That….doesn’t sound good.” Natasha said, almost lamely. How does one respond to the idea that a Reaper wanted to feast on the very thing that made you…you.

”Let’s get out of here then.” She said, at last.

[Bennosuke]

"Very well," The Churgeon says flatly as it reaches into its ribcage. With its left hand, the apparition removes a brittle iron key of black iron. The thing is pocked and scarred, with streaks of a bluish rust speckling. Without hesitating, The Churgeon plunges the key into Natasha's chest, the metal key finding a home in the exact spot where the bullet tore into Natasha's heart.

Natasha's chest is filled with a searing pain, a hundred fold more agonizing than the bullet that had torn open her original wound. The fire tears its way up into Natasha's throat, suddenly making it impossible to breath... like Natasha were choking on something...

As Natasha's voice goes blank, the smell of stagnant river water and mud fades away. Blackness takes over Natasha's vision. But the pain in her chest, and the choking in her throat remain...

"I am sorry Ms. Hensen," the far off voice says. It's a man's voice, distantly familiar; just as the voice seems to be coming from another room, distorted by the distance, "but we will need you to call Natasha's family. I performed the brain stem reflexes myself, and can only conclude that she is brain dead; which means there is no hope for recovery."

Chloe's crying begins immediately, far more near and far clearer in response to this news. The voice belongs to Dr. Charles Hester, the Neurosurgery Chief Resident. Natasha had run into Charles too many times in the ED. He was cocky and demeaning, an ass to the nurses and the junior residents who he viewed as inferior to himself.

But Natasha was not brain dead. Still the burning pain in her chest and her throat continued. It was as if something was jammed into Natasha's throat! No wait... there was something." Air was being forced down Natasha's throat in a rhythmic assault on her lungs. Though her eyes were still closed, Natasha was awake, and she was intubated.

The beeps and hum of the machines of the ICU began to become clear to Natasha as her senses returned to her form, though none of these could block out the terrible sound of Chloe crying. Charles Hester continued, "I will need you to call and notify Natasha's family, so that we can promptly withdraw care. It is the right thing to do!" He was speaking down to Chloe, impatiently telling her what to do.

[Erulasto]

It was all so surreal.

Watching the Chiurgeon pluck the rusty key of black iron out and place it into her chest as if she were some fleshy lock was difficult. The logical part of Natasha’s mind had been screaming that this wasn’t right. It was…impossible. But Natasha was the kind of person whose faith was lodged firmly in the camp of: I have to see it, to believe it.

Facts weren’t facts until they could be independently verified, after all. It was the basis for peer review and science in general.

But the fiery pain that roared to life inside her chest, up her throat and behind her eyes sent all logical thoughts scattering. Hands instinctively moved to press against the source of the burning – the hole where the Geist had placed the key – as if cradling her heart would diminish the agony somehow.

When the voices – the crying – began to trickle into the periphery of her senses, she struggled to hear. Struggled to comprehend.

She must still be in the hospital if Charles was talking to Chloe.

Chloe!

The sudden realization that her lover was there – crying – was enough to give her a surge of hope. Despite the intubation. Despite the mechanical whirring, humming and beeping of the life support unit. How dare Hester talk to Chloe like that!

What a prick!

Natasha tried – willed herself with every ounce of strength she had left – to raise a hand. To grasp at the tubes down her throat. To free herself from this prison, so she could hold Chloe again.

[Bennosuke]

The tube came out with a slurping sound, pulling at the inside of Natasha's throat. The pain of the action is immediate, but not fast enough to halt the action.

The moment the tube is out Natasha takes a reflexive deep breath of air before giving into a fit of desperate coughs. The pain in Natasha's throat resolves with the coughing, though the burning in her chest where The Churgeon plunged that key still burns like fire.

Chloe's sobbing has suddenly stopped, and Natasha can hear a soft commotion in the room as she comes back in control of her body. Opening her eyes, Natasha can see she is in a hospital bed; a cramped one patient room with a sliding glass door entrance; The ICU. Chloe and Charles were standing at the edge of the bed. Chloe was in her civilian clothes; a pair of black jeans and a flannel button down. Her hair was wild, her eyes red from crying. There was a shocked look on both of their faces as they studied Natasha. The lights in the room were dim, but Natasha could see the terror in the Neurosurgeon's eyes, and the relief in her girlfriend's.

Chloe rushes around the side of the bed, a desperate "Babe!" escaping her lips as she comes around to embrace Natasha.

[Erulasto]

The first gasp of air in to fill her lungs under her own power was a liberatingly painful experience, but the fiery ache made her feel alive - which she was. It was a miracle. But it also wasn't as the terror in Hester's eyes were a stark reminder of how she came back. The neurosurgeon might not have known, but it was a medical miracle if what she heard as she awoke was true.

When Chloe approached, Natasha weakly opened her arms to hug her girlfriend. But she squeezed with all the strength she could muster. This was why she came back!

"God, am I glad to see you!" She said in a hoarse voice, a relieved smile on her face.

[Bennosuke]

Chloe's embrace is just as tight, and Natasha is wrapped in her touch, the smell of her shampoo, the touch of her short hair against her face. "Oh god, oh god, oh god," Chloe keeps repeating, though this sounds like 'thank you, thank you, thank you'! Chloe squeezes even tighter, and suddenly the pain in Natasha's left breast flares up to a raging fire that forces her to yelp slightly in pain.

Chloe pulls back, suddenly conscious of what she had done. There is bandaging on Natasha's chest, where the bullet had pierced her (where the Churgeon's key had gone too!), and it was stained brown with dried blood. A pair of IV's ran in each of Natasha's arms (wide bore for sure), and EKG leads attached her to the beeping monitor hung over Natasha's bed.

Dr. Hester was still watching, a mix of shock and anger playing out on his face. Chloe had dropped a hand to squeeze Natasha's. Her eyes were wet with tears, but her face was flush with happiness in a way that made Natasha's heart ache.

But a strange skeletal hand was playing with Chloe's hair. As Natasha focuses she can see The Churgeon towering over her love, running his free hand tenderly through her short dark tangles. The apparition appeared to be grinning at Natasha as he caressed the police officer. However shocking his visage had been down in the dark by the river, the Geist was certainly out of place in this hospital room, invading Natasha's life and reality.

[Erulasto]

Natasha watched the Chiurgeon play with Chloe’s hair and a spike of hot anger lanced through her. Just because they were one person now did not give it the right to be so free. Not that Chloe would really notice the violation, but it kindled Natasha’s protective spirit like the sparking of a campfire.

Forcing the situation to the back of her mind for a moment, she turned her gaze – likely vacantly staring into the nothingness where the Geist floated – back to Chloe and forced a small smile onto her face.

”I’m sorry, love. I didn’t…mean to worry you.” Natasha croaked out, voice still hoarse from the intubation. A quick glance to Herster followed. ”Rough night, hey?”

[Bennosuke]

Chloe chuckles at this, an unbridled half-crazed laugh. "Try rough 36 hours," she says, squeezing Natasha's hand firmly again before adding cautiously, "You've been in the IC for almost a day. Your family is on their way here now, driving from Providence. They came as quickly as they could, but they had to get coverage for the restaurant."

Maddeningly, Chloe seems completely unaware of the demon figure standing above her. "She is beautiful," The Churgeon says as its hand slides from her hair, shriveled skeletal fingers moving down the nape of her neck to rest on a shoulder, "I can see why you came back for her."

Dr. Hestor has moved to the door and is calling for a nurse, a serious tone in his voice.

[Erulasto]

"That..long?" Natasha asked, a little bewildered. It hadn't seemed like more than a few moments since..."What...happened, exactly?" She asked after a moment. Despite the pain and the shock, a part of Natasha was worried about Hestor's actions going forward. Natasha didn't feel like being a science experiment, though it would be interesting to see if any of her bloodwork was unusual now.

[Bennosuke]

"You were shot twice in the ED," Chloe says with some concern, though her voice is practically drowned out by The Churgeon.

"You died little one."

Unaware of the competing dialogue, Chloe continues, "They stabilized you, and brought for surgery. You were in shock because the bullet clipped your heart. They repaired it, and brought you up here... but we thought we had lost you."

Dr. Hestor bursts into the room, accompanied by a round faced young nurse who begins asking you to lay down and taking Natasha's vitals. She appears shocked, but also relieved, unlike the Resident studying Natasha coldly from the door.

[Erulasto]

The discordant sound of her wonderful Chloe and the Chiurgeon’s voice overlapping seemed to make Natasha’s head swim, unable to truly comprehend the truth of it. As Hestor and the nurse arrived once more, Natasha allowed the nurse to ease her back down and begin to take her vitals.

”I’m…sorry to worry you, love.” Natasha said, before glancing over to Hestor one more time. ”I heard talk about taking me off life support. I wasn’t…sure if it was a dream?”

[Bennosuke]

"Don't worry about it," Chloe says forcefully, placing a hand to cup Natasha's face, "they were clearly wrong."

The nurse examining Natasha calls back to Dr. Hestor, "She looks good. Vitals are holding stable." She cuts in between Chloe and Natasha and says, "Uh, Doctor, you are looking good. Would you like to try to sit up?" The nurse offers Natasha a hand and begins to clear back the layers of white hospital blanket that bundle Natasha's lower half.

Natasha is suddenly distracted by The Churgeon, who has turned his back to the her to reveal his black tattered cloak as he growls at the door like an angry guard dog. From around the Geist's silhouette Natasha can see three colorless forms. One is a young man with an exposed cranium leaking ichor similar to the waters of the river in the underworld. The other two are elderly, one man and one woman. The man has a flabby grey body and bloodshot eyes, while the woman's gaunt face is framed by wild grey hair. The three are dressed in matching hospital gowns. They stand at the doorway, staring at Natasha with mixed shock and anger playing on their expressions. These three did not belong here in the same way that The Churgeon was an intruder. But at the same time they seemed to blend in with the walls and the floors of the ICU floor, as if they were made up of or part of the very substance that made this hospital.

[Erulasto]

The touch on her cheek was a welcome sensation after her experiences in what seemed like the Purgatory her grandmother used to tell her of when she was little. Natasha nuzzled Chloe’s hand with a soft smile, tearing up somewhat at the solidarity in her lover’s voice.

”Thank you.” She half-whispered.

Slowly, she started to push herself up to to a sitting position once more with a grunt of exertion. Her limbs still felt somewhat lethargic, but part of her wondered if that was just some psychosomatic aftereffects. When she saw the sudden, angry reaction from the Geist, she turned her eyes towards the door where she saw the three strange people.

The gasp that escaped her lips could, perhaps, be attributed to the sudden movement in sitting up. But in truth, it was the three figures that elicited such a reaction. They looked like patients, perhaps? But if the Chiurgeon was reacting to them with such vitriol, maybe there was something more to it.

”This…may be an odd question…but was there a young man here recently? With…with a head wound, of some kind?”