Chapter 14: Chapter 14: Do No Harm

The world slowed down to a screeching halt. Valen watched Enid’s body topple forward in slow motion after Nigel hit her in the head with a cricket bat. His legs moved on their own without him noticing, spurning him towards Enid to catch her before she could hit the floor and get any more hurt.

Louise moved as well, but it wasn’t Enid she was running towards.

“Nigel you bastard!” Louise leaped at the emaciated vampire, grabbing him by collar.

Nigel offered no resistance, dropping the cricket bat with a look of horror on his face as Louise brought him to the ground.

Valen caught Enid’s body before she could hit the ground and pulled her close to him, cradling her in his arms.

“Enid!” he cried. “Gods, are you okay?!”

“Uuugh.” Enid’s one visible eye fluttered open. It looked at him half-closed as she sat up and rubbed the top of her head where she’d been hit. “Yeah, I’m fi-”

Valen pulled her into a hug before she could finish. Her eyes grew wide and her face grew as red as her hair. She felt his heartbeat pumped against her chest and her own pulse quickened in response. His long black hair brushed against her face like soft silk smelling faintly of sweet fruits. Dude really knew how to take care of his hair.

“Um.” Enid was about to ask him to stop squeezing when she realised that she didn’t mind it at all. It felt nice getting a hug from him, though she couldn’t rightly say why.

In the end it was Valen who broke the hug when he grew conscious of Enid’s breasts pressed against his chest.

“Oh. Um. Sorry,” he said, pulling himself off her.

“It’s fine,” said Enid. “Just give me a warning next time, yeah?’

In an attempt to alleviate the awkwardness, they both turned to look at Louise beating the absolute shit out of Nigel.

The sound of flesh squelching against a continuous flurry of furry fists echoed against the walls of the small back room. Buried within it was a single whispered phrase repeated over and over again.

“I’m shorry.”

Valen had half the mind to join Louise, but most of his anger had melted away upon seeing Enid was fine. Now the only thing he felt was relief and just a little bit of pity.

Louise picked Nigel up by the collar of his shirt and slammed him into the nearby wall.

“I think that’s enough, Lou.” Valen stood up and placed a hand on her shoulder. “We don’t want a murder on our hands.”

Nigel’s black-white eyes, nearly covered by the swollen red flesh around his face, pleaded with Louise to stop as bloody tears rolled down his bruised cheeks.

“I’m shorry,” he repeated again through bleeding lips. “I’m so shorry.”

“You better be.” Louise released her grip and Nigel crumpled onto the ground. “My friend here just saved your life.”

“The voicesh made me do ish,” Nigel lisped as he lay splayed on the dirty carpet. “Shey ushed to shound be so shweet…”

Memory of the Unborn God’s voice flashed in Valen’s mind. It had whispered inside his mind before trying to take it over as he slept. He’d nearly strangled Louise before coming back to his senses then. If Nigel was suffering from the same thing, then he had no right to be angry at him after what he did himself.

Valen crouched over Nigel’s crumpled body and spoke to him in the calmest voice he could manage.

“Easy there mate. I’m not going to hurt you. Just take a deep breath.”

Nigel turned his head to the side and let out a series of violent coughs that splattered dark red blood all over the off white carpet. Valen grimaced. Louise beat him pretty badly, but even that shouldn’t be enough for him to be coughing out this much blood. Plus, the blood smelled…off to him. It reeked of potent magic he’d only ever sensed from the Unborn God’s blood.

“The voiceshes did thish,” Nigel lisped with bated breath.

“Don’t push yourself,” said Valen. After a moment of deliberation, he allowed his fangs to grow to their full size and spoke in a tongue that accommodated them. “Do you speak Noctish?”

The words escaped his lips like a long, low hiss punctuated by vowel sounds that made no sense to anyone who didn’t speak the languages. Noctish was the traditional language of vampires that required fangs for proper pronunciation. It was most often used for prayer at Sanguinist events, but even unreligious vampire parents still taught it to their children to keep that little bit of their ancient culture alive.

Nigel’s eyes widened at the sound of Noctish and spoke again, his words coming out crystal clear now that his own fangs were no longer an obstacle.

“The voices made me do it” he said, sounding surprisingly eloquent compared to the stuttering mess he had been while speaking Commontongue. “You have to believe me. I didn’t want to hurt your girlfriend.”

“I believe you,” said Valen, not bothering to correct him about Enid. “I’ve heard them too.”

“They used to sound so sweet.” A single tear rolled down Nigel’s battered cheeks. “I couldn’t understand them. I didn’t have to. They were always like a lullaby easing my mind every time I shot myself up.”

“What changed?” asked Valen while Enid and Louise looked on in confusion, unable to understand the conversation.

“They started screaming,” said Nigel. “The moment I saw you and your friends. I don’t know why. Or what they say. Just that they want you dead. And they won’t sing to me anymore if I don’t help it. I didn’t want to do it. Please, you have to believe me!”

“I do,” said Valen. “I’m sorry this had to happen to you.”

Nigel’s lips formed into a sad smile. It didn’t last.

His body seized up in an instant before falling into violent convulsions that made Valen jump to his feet. A look of horror froze onto Nigel’s face and humid vapours that reeked of the Unborn God’s blood escaped his quivering lips with every erratic breath. Valen heard his heartbeat pump so fast that it was a miracle it didn’t explode yet.

“What’s happening?” asked Enid, stepping back from her fallen attacker.

“Okay, I swear I didn’t beat him that badly!” added Louise.

“He’s going into an overdose seizure!” Valen turned to Louise. “Call the police!”

“What?!” Louise looked at him like he had three heads. “Seriously?! What if-”

“There’s no time! Nigel’s a victim too and he’s going to die if he doesn’t get an ambulance so call one!”

Valen crouched over the convulsing vampire and rolled him onto his side in the recovery position so that he wouldn’t choke on his own vomit or hurt himself while convulsing. He considered trying to feed Nigel his blood before realising he’d just cough it up again with how much he was spazzing out.

“Uugh!” Louise scratched her head in frustration before taking out her phone and dialling 999. “Fine! But only because you say so! Bloody pigs…”

Louise walked out the back room with phone in hand to make the call.

Valen turned to Enid while still holding Nigel’s squirming body in place.

“Enid, you go try to find an overdose reversal kit inside his desk. It should be labelled Naloxone.”

“Got it.” Enid rushed back into the lobby and started going through the drawers of the receptionist’s desk.

Meanwhile, Valen tried his best to comfort Nigel as the overdose wracked his body.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said in Noctish. “Everything is going to be alright. Just hang on while help gets here.”

Nigel’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, turning their sockets into pitch black voids. He opened his mouth, but he didn’t speak Noctish and it wasn’t Nigel’s voice that came out.

“YOU CANNOT ESCAPE FROM ME.”

Valen felt The Unborn God’s voice shouting clearly inside his head like a direct transmission into his brain, but all his ears heard were the inhuman roar of something that shouldn’t exist. His hands grew cold and clammy as he forced himself to keep holding the convulsing vampire in place for his own sake.

A moment later Enid rushed back into the room empty-handed.

“I couldn’t find anything,” she said. “What was that noise?”

“He spoke just now.” Valen shot her an incredulous look. “Didn’t you hear him?”

“All I heard was something that sounded like a dying cat.” Enid looked down at Nigel’s body thrashing under Valen’s grip. “How is he?”

As if on cue, the convulsions came to an abrupt stop and Nigel’s body went completely limp. Valen felt his heart skip a beat when he realised that Nigel’s was fading, becoming barely audible even to his hypersensitive hearing.

“He’s gone into cardiac arrest.” Valen flipped Nigel back onto his back and ripped open his plain red shirt. “I’m going to try to resuscitate him.” He turned to Enid. “Are you okay with being my defibrillator?”

Enid crouched beside him and rubbed her hands together, causing tiny electric sparks to fly from her palms. “Just tell me when to shock him.”

“You’re going to have to shock him on his right upper chest and on his left below the armpit. Here.” Valen took Enid by the wrists and placed her palms in the same place he would’ve put normal defibrillator paddles. “Keep the voltage at around 500 volts and don’t go beyond a 1000.”

Enid nodded. “Got it. Do I do it now?”

“Not yet. I still have to do CPR.” Valen placed the heel of his hand over Nigel’s sternum and started compressing his chest while keeping an ear out for his heartbeat so that he'd know when to administer shock. “Wait until I say clear.”

Valen counted the number of times he pressed down on Nigel’s chest, trying his best to keep the compressions at a steady rate of about 100 rates per minute. Every thirty compressions he would stop to give rescue breaths by pinching Nigel’s nose and lifting up his chin while he blew a firm, steady breath into his mouth.

When he heard Nigel’s fading heartbeat grow dangerously irregular, he stopped his CPR and raised his hand away from the unconscious vampire.

“Clear,” he told Enid.

An electric current shot from Enid’s palm into Nigel’s chest, causing his body to lurch upwards before falling back flat on the floor. Contrary to what is often peddled in films, the point of a defibrillator wasn’t to jumpstart a heart, but to flatline it. As counter-intuitive as it may seem, dysfunctional hearts were often more dangerous than still ones, and Nigel’s needed to be stopped before Valen could restart it with CPR.

With his heart flatlined, Valen continued his CPR on Nigel.

Thirty compressions, two rescue breaths, and an electric shock from Enid to reset the heart whenever it started beating out of rhythm. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Valen had his mouth covered over Nigel’s to deliver more rescue breaths when on the second breath he felt something bitter and sour fill his mouth, accompanied by the sound of a cough. He pulled himself back and spat the foul yellow substance onto the carpet while Nigel coughed his way back to consciousness.

It wasn’t unheard of for receivers of CPR to vomit in their rescuers’ mouth, but it still came as an unpleasant surprise for Valen.

Nigel’s eyes flew open and he started thrashing on the ground, flailing his arms and legs around in a wild panic.

“Stay away!” he cried in Noctish, though the horror in his voice transcended any language barrier.

An errant kick from him hit Enid in the side and she was thrown onto her back by the force. Junkie or not, Nigel was still a vampire with roughly five times the strength of a human his size. He hoped he was just imagining things due to panic, but Valen could’ve sworn he heard a rib crack upon impact.

“Enid!” Valen fought against his own gag reflex and wiped Nigel’s vomit from the corner of his lips.

He rushed over to Enid to check on her. Meanwhile, Nigel scurried to the corner of the backroom with the fervour of a frightened animal.

Enid sat up rubbing the side of her ribs with an annoyed look on her face. A single “Ow” was the only thing she had to say.

“Don’t get up.” Valen took her by the shoulders and eased her down onto her back. “If that kick broke a rib then it could cause internal bleeding.”

Enid rolled her eyes, sat back up, and lifted up the hem of her jumper to expose herself to him.

“I’m fine, Valen,” she insisted. “Look, there isn’t even a bruise.”

Enid had hoped that seeing her in her bra would fluster Valen enough to stop worrying. He seemed to get pretty whenever he caught her in her bathrobes at least.

But instead of shrinking away, Enid felt Valen’s gloved fingers gently stroke against her skin where her ribs were. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it still sent a shiver throughout her body and flushed her face with heat.

“Huh. You don’t seem to have broken anything.” Valen let out a grateful sigh. “That’s a relief.”

Enid pulled her shirt back down, revealing that her pale white face had turned a rosy pink.

“Oh. Um.” Valen rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry if I came on too strong there. I was worried.”

“It’s fine.” Enid cleared her throat, hoping her blush was gone. “But I think someone else needs you more right now.”

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They both turned to look at Nigel crying in the corner. His boney fingers cradled his head as he rocked himself back and forth muttering Noctish under his breath.

“The trees are made of bone. The earth is made of flesh. The clouds are made of blood. The eyes are everywhere…”

Valen looked at Enid with an expression of pure pity as if asking for her permission to go help him.

“Go,” said Enid. “Tend to your patient. He needs you.”

Valen stood up and approached Nigel, making sure his footsteps were loud enough to be heard but not enough to be intimidating.

“I’m coming closer, okay Nigel?” said Valen in Noctish. “There’s no need to be afraid. I’m here to help.”

“The trees are made of bone. The earth is made of flesh. The clouds are made of blood. The eyes are everywhere…” Nigel repeated the words to himself. “I saw it. Gods forgive me, I saw it. Hell. I went to hell.”

Valen froze a few feet away from Nigel. A chill of fear ran down his spine. These ramblings were starting to sound eerily similar to somewhere he’d been to himself. A place that shouldn’t exist, where mortal souls were dragged into by a godly tyrant coveting the empty world it had been denied. The heavenly realm of the Unborn God.

It was real beyond the shadow of a doubt. Valen had just visited it the other day and hoped to never have to see it again. But Nigel didn’t need to know that. Even if he did get confirmation of the truth, it wasn’t like he could do anything about it. Perhaps it was best if he continued to live in blissful ignorance.

“It was all just a dream,” Valen lied. “You were unconscious just now.”

“I died!” Nigel shouted in Noctish, creating a sound like hissing snake. “I-I felt my heart stop!”

“We brought you back,” Valen continued, keeping his voice calm and even in the face of Nigel’s panic. “Your mind just filled in the gaps in your consciousness while you were out.”

“I-it all felt so real.” Nigel’s breathing grew ragged. His whole body shook and his heartbeat skyrocketed once more. Signs of an oncoming panic attack.

Valen had to calm him down fast, before he hurt himself or someone else. The poor bloke’s body had been through a lot already. A heartbeat too fast or an accidental knock of the head may very well spell disaster for him.

“Dreams always feel like that when you’re asleep,” said Valen. “But then you wake up and realise that none of it matters anymore.”

“Hell,” Nigel whispered to no one in particular. “I’m going to hell.”

“No, you’re not.” Valen crouched down to be eye-level with Nigel, though he still refused to meet his gaze. “You’re just going to the hospital, okay? You’re not going to die today. I promise. We’ll get through this.”

Nigel finally looked up at Valen. Streaks of red tears stained his cheeks and his eyes still had the cloudy white pupils and irises that marked him as a victim of the Unborn God, but at least he seemed a bit calmer now.

“What do I do now?” Nigel’s gaze drifted back to the floor. “What’s going to happen to me?”

The confusion tinged with sadness on his face told Valen that he must’ve been asking himself those exact same questions for a long time now. Magic or not, drugs can only cover up pain for so long.

“You’re going to get better,” said Valen. “We’re going to get you to the hospital so you can receive the help you need.”

“I…I don’t know what to do anymore.” Nigel buried his face in his knees. Quiet sobs echoed off the tiny backroom walls. “I just want to sleep soundly again.”

“...I’m coming closer, okay?” said Valen, softening his voice even further. “Would that be alright?”

Nigel didn’t reply, but he took the nodding-like gesture he made while sobbing as a “Yes.”

Valen took a single closer. Then another, and another, ensuring that each deliberate step in his approach could be heard.

When he got to Nigel, Valen sat down beside him and laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Nigel, can I check your pulse? It’s not going to hurt, I promise.” Valen held up his gloved hands for Nigel to see. “I’m wearing gloves, see? My claws won’t touch you.”

Nigel wiped his face against his knees and looked at him before nodding in silence.

His pulse didn’t really need any checking. Valen could hear his heartbeat just fine. But Nigel needed something more to reassure him, and giving him the choice to decline hopefully gave his fractured psyche some small semblance of control back after addiction had overtaken it.

Valen gingerly lifted Nigel’s wrist and pressed two gloved fingers on the radial artery. The pulse was normal. No surprise there. He was still weak, though, and Valen worried there might be a slight chance for him to go into another cardiac arrest.

“You need blood to regain your strength, Nigel.” Valen pulled down the sleeves of his coat and dress shirt. He sunk his fangs into his own forearm and allowed the sweet red blood to flow out without taking a sip for himself.

Across the room, Enid took a step back.

“Are you sure about this Valen?” she asked. “You haven’t exactly recovered yourself.”

“It’s fine.” Valen released fangs’ grip on his flesh. “I-”

Valen felt his arm get grabbed. Before he could say anything, Nigel sunk his own fangs into his bleeding wrist and began gulping down his blood in a desperate attempt to slake his long-neglected thirst.

Electricity crackled in the air. Enid raised her extended knuckles for a lightning spell and Louise burst into the room, apparently having finished her phone call to the police.

“What’s going on?!” Louise's face twisted into a sharp-toothed scowl the moment she saw Nigel biting Valen’s wrist.

“Wait!” Valen shouted, now back to speaking Commontongue.

Louise had to stop herself mid-lunge. Enid allowed the lightning around her to disperse but kept her knuckles raised and pointed at Nigel.

“It’s alright,” Valen assured them. “Everything’s okay. I can handle this.”

“You sure about that?” Louise looked uneasy, and Valen saw that her knees were still bent in preparation for a potentially lethal pounce.

“I am,” said Valen. “He needs this right now. Why don’t you two wait outside the room? I’ll call if I need you, yeah?”

Enid and Louise looked at each other with anxious expressions on their faces. Enid was the first to relent, lowering her arm and shoving both hands into the pockets of her trench coat.

“Fine,” she said. “But call for help if you need it, alright?”

“I will.” Valen shifted his gaze to Louise. “Louise?”

The fur on Louise’s arms stood up from the wrist up and she let out a frustrated snarl before slumping her shoulders.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she said before turning around and walking out the door.

Enid followed her, but before turning back one last time and mouthing a silent “Good luck.”

Luck. Now that was one thing he had plenty of where Nigel had none.

Valen gently rubbed Nigel’s back as he drank deeply from his wrist. Valen had been in his position many times before during his childhood, a vampire feeding from another vampire out of sheer desperation.

The person he fed from always rubbed his back during feeding the same way he was doing to Nigel now. It made him feel safe despite the circumstances, and hoped that it provided Nigel with the same feeling as well.

When Valen felt he’d had enough, he did the same thing that person from his childhood did to signal the end of the feeding.

“Nigel,” He said in Noctish and gave him a soft pat to the back of his head. “That’s enough now.”

Nigel pried his jaws open and leaned away from Valen’s bloodied wrist. His fangs slowly retracted into his gums with a long squelch. The last time they retracted must’ve been quite a while ago.

Nigel looked at Valen with tears in his eyes and spoke in Commontongue, his lisp now gone that his fangs were no longer in the way.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” said Valen, smiling without showing his fangs. “The ambulance should be coming soon. We’re going to get you the help you need, okay?”

“I’m sorry for hitting your girlfriend.” Nigel turned away his gaze to stare at the corner of the room in shame. “I…I don’t know what came over me.”

“...Do you need a hug?”

Nigel looked back at him, surprised. “What?”

“Do you need a hug?” Valen repeated, opening his arms for him.

Clear tears welled up in Nigel’s eyes and he pulled Valen into an embrace.

They stayed that way for about ten minutes, maybe more, with Valen rubbing his back as he sobbed into his shoulder.

When Valen heard the sound of an ambulance pulling up outside, he gingerly pulled away from the hug.

“It’s time to go now,” he told him. “You need a hospital right now.”

“Do I have to?” asked Nigel, scratching his arms in nervousness.

“Yes. You do,” said Valen, his voice firmer than before. “Those drugs clearly did a number on your body because I’m pretty sure we vampires aren’t supposed to be blue.”

Nigel looked down at his greyish blue arms and rubbed them in what seemed like embarrassment. “I didn’t know this would be a side-effect.”

“There are probably more that you don’t know of,” said Valen. “You need some proper doctors to give you a check-up.”

As if on cue, two paramedics walked into the back room with a stretcher held between them.

The paramedic in front, a muscular green orc woman who must’ve held 90% of the stretcher all on her own, looked at Nigel shivering then turned to Valen.

“Is that the patient?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Valen, “I managed to stabilise him with CPR but it’d be better if he gets to a hospital soon.”

“Agreed.” The orc paramedic looked at Nigel. “Do you think you get on the stretcher by yourself?”

“Y-yeah,” said Nigel.

“Good.” She turned to the other paramedic who held the other end of the stretcher. “Lay the stretcher down here.”

The paramedics laid down the stretcher and, after a moment of hesitation, Nigel crawled onto it and allowed himself to be strapped in.

The paramedics lifted the stretcher up with him and walked out the back room with Valen close behind him.

“Does he have anyone to get in the ambulance with him?” the orc paramedic asked.

“I’ll come along,” said Valen.

He looked around to tell Enid and Louise where he was going when the sight of a familiar man he’d never met stopped him in his tracks.

The man stood beside Enid and Louise, who barely made an effort to hide the disdain on her face.

He was an elf, wearing a sharp grey two-piece suit with a badge clipped to his belt. His sleek blond hair connected seamlessly to his short but meticulously groomed beard. Leaning on the wall behind him was his partner, a woman of clear eastern descent with a bushy fox tail poking out from under her black waistcoat.

Upon seeing Valen, the elven man approached him with a thumb hooked on his belt as if trying to emphasise the shiny police badge next to it.

“Actually, sir,” said the detective, his green eyes boring into Valen’s. “My name is detective Cyril Calnacan. We were wondering if we could ask you some questions.”

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