Wolf of the Tesseract

Chapter 6

Claire awoke with a start. Even unconscious, her heart had been pounding a hundred beats per minute. She hadn't dreamt at all—and she hoped that her most recent recollections had been nothing more than a new, intense nightmare—hoping it had merely been the worst ever variant of her "wolf dream." Claire ached all over and her head was foggy; the pain in her body told her that it had all been very real.

The unmistakable chirping of medical instruments and the strong scent of expensive men's cologne informed her of her location, and told her she was not alone. Claire turned her head, searching the hospital room for her fiancé. "James?"

His coat lay over a chair nearby. Past that, muted by the door and distance, she could see James through a window, clearly angry at whomever he was speaking with. She hadn't seen him wear a look of worry very often, but it clung to him now.

She hurt all over. The radiant ache of minor burns spotted her skin. Claire touched the wounds and wiped away the sticky topical ointments she'd been treated with. More than the pain, though, she felt anger. She couldn't pinpoint the source of her rage, but a feeling of helplessness made her want to lash out.

The frustration mounted as she lay there, unable to get comfortable because of her burns, she listened to the beeping machines. Beep. Beep. Beep. Minutes on end. Finally, her calm broke and she started ripping the sticky sensors off her body, making the machines lose their calm as well. Beep. Beep. Breeeeeeeeeeeee!

Nurses came storming into the room, trailed closely by James. "What are you doing? You can't do that!" they chided.

"Are you holding me here against my will?" Claire snapped.

"No, but you're not well," a large nurse replied. Claire was pretty sure the large nurse could hold her against Claire's will if she'd wanted to. The other nurse and a doctor stood near the door, only one step closer than James.

"If I stay here a minute longer, I swear I'll lose my mind," Claire threatened.

The nurses and the doctor traded sagacious glances. James interrupted their silent conversation. "Doctor Smith, is she well enough to check herself out?"

"Wait," Claire stopped him. "I want to know. What do you mean by that? I said 'I feel like being in here is making me 'crazy'' and everyone freaks out."

The long pause after her demand hung palpably. Finally, Doctor Smith said, "Miss Jones, when they admitted you, you were raving about fire demons and werewolves. They found you in the woods early this morning suffering a psychotic break from reality."

Silence again. None dared break it. Only Claire had that right.

"The fire. The burns," a confused Claire stammered.

"Yes," James helped her. "There was an explosion at the house. A gas line ruptured, the fire marshal says. It was very traumatic; the real estate agent died, but Vivian and Jackie got out the front door. Vivian dragged Jackie to safety, but when she came back, you'd escaped out the back entry of the room and apparently fled into the woods."

"Right!" She exclaimed. "Vivian saw the whole thing! She can tell you, something big—a creature, saved me. He scooped me up and carried me to the woods!"

Her physician regarded her coolly. His white coat sported a gold star-shaped lapel pin and a name tag identifying him as Ryan Smith, M.D.

Doctor Smith watched her carefully as she repeated the same details she'd arrived raving about. "You do appear more coherent, this time," he said, only stating the facts of his observation, avoiding any diagnosis.