As a surgeon, I’ve heard of many ideas of how death could possibly be. Peaceful, horrific, tranquil but never have I heard an idea like Marqs. Marq was only 7 and had many heart issues. I won’t go into detail, but, he needed care almost 24/7. He was very bright and was liked by most if not all. He was known for making people laugh and as cheerful as he was, he had a high risk of death.
After 8 or so months after taking care of Marq, he began behaving strangely. He started talking to himself and laughing whenever he was alone. I, along with many others, were sent to privately talk to him, hoping to understand why he was acting this way. After many failed attempts, we gave up all together hoping this was just him being playful.
After another week or two of this, he began to grow pale and weaker, talking less and less by each passing day. We grew worried and started upping his dosages, hoping this was some sort of fluke on our behalf.
It was not on our behalf.
Marq had to stay in bed all day and would not speak to any of us. He would only speak to who we were told recently by him, was his “friend,” Alicia.
He told us that Alicia was a short, blonde women who was 24 years old and would read him lulabies and stuck by his side whenever he was alone. We brushed this off as a phase but realised that this may be a case of schizophrenia he may of grew with all of his time alone.
He, after another week or two, began murming words after alot of questioning. The only response we got however, was a poem he has apparently been taught by Alicia. “The chains of metal were oh so tight. The look of death was heavenly bright.” This made us even more worried as we thought he had grown worse and along side, he was due surgery which I had to take part in.
Two days before his surgery was due, he had a panic attack due to “Alicia not being there,” this was troubling as he seemed to of grown attached to this girl and was now growing fearful of her apparent loss.
Once his surgery finally came along, he was sat at the operation table and was slowly given small amounts of anesthesia. He began repeating his chant as he slowly drifted off but before falling unconscious he told me and the other workers something I will never forget. “When I die, will I be punished?” We all stood, unsure of what to say and just as I was about to speak, another worker cut me off, “no sweetie, why would you say that?” He slumbered, silent for a moment of hesitation then said “my consequence of death, Alicia told me that’s what would happen once I die.” We have eachother uncertain glares before he drifted off into his sleep.
“Scalpel.”
“0.3mm Needle.”
“.5 mml of u-“
“What.. the f_ck..”
A black substance poored from his heart as his hbpm machine went flat. His lifeless body was sat there as more and more dark, flowing goo poored from his arteries.
“We saw his blood not 10 seconds ago.. what on god’s earth..”
His eyes began to grow darker as his life was fully drained from his body.
After we alerted our higher ups of his passing, he was taken away and never seen again. As I took off my gloves and thoroughly washed my hands, I couldn’t help but think, what were those consequences Marq was talking about? How did his blood turn black?
I stood, looking at my reflection, when I saw a short, blonde middle aged women behind me.
I then slowly brought it together, Marq wasn’t schizophrenic, he was cursed with the consequence to dying.
I’m next.