One Aon Fatality (THE FATALITY SERIES Book 1)

Chapter 2

A month had passed since Acid Trip had departed, leaving the remaining Aon alone with Roston and Kristopher. Without Trip's practiced aid, One's condition deteriorated, the passive oxygen delivery system replaced by intubation and a ventilator.

Days melded together. She had lost track of time. Her bleary eyelashes obscured the clock. Saturday, Tuesday, evening, afternoon, it did not matter anymore. Roston and Kristopher had a responsibility to see her to the end, no matter how long it took.

Roston traced into the room, Kristopher not far behind. Their electronic devices informed them that One was alive, so they were not expecting a corpse. Her eyes transfixed to the nothing on the wall may have convinced someone otherwise.

What medical texts they had regarding the terminally ill and expected behaviors given the medication were not that informative; One was an Aon. She was suffering from multiple organ system failure. It had taken years to get to that stage, with the first hint being the stunting caused by nutritional deficiencies. Having to feed her paint did not help.

Roston took a look at his DIGET with its high-contrast alphabet application, face souring. They were about to ask the most awkward question in their careers and neither quite wanted to go through with it: 'What did the Aon want to be known as on her autopsy report?' Roston retyped the question, unsure of the wording to use.

Kristopher glanced at Roston's latest sentence and muttered, "You could ask her bluntly." Roston deleted the phrase and tried another one.

"I don't want to come across as cold," Roston murmured, reviewing the question. It read, 'What should we call you?' He looked back to his colleague for his opinion, who nodded. They would present it to the Aon. "I hope she can read it. She couldn't read the third line on the Snellen chart yesterday."

"I wouldn't worry about her reading it." Kristopher took the DIGET and moved his way over to the side of the bed that One was facing.

The Aon perked up a little as the medical doctor scooted a chair close to her. She stared, no expression registering as he raised the DIGET in front of her face. Roston stood over, watching her eyes as they scanned across the sentence, slow sweeps, then faster before fixating themselves, eyes narrowing on their target.

"C-O..." Roston started off saying, observing as her right hand spelled out a series of letters. It was expected that those who interacted with the Aon know at least the alphabet in sign language. The other man turned the DIGET around and began writing out the words.

The first word was 'corpse.' It became apparent what frame of mind the Aon was in as she began spelling words pertaining to death, bodies, and other macabre terminologies. None of them were names.

The giddy Kristopher's shoulders started to sag as he read over the list he was writing out. It was a somewhat colorful list, with nouns such as 'zombie' and 'cadaver' having made their way onto it. Roston chewed on his cheek, the derogatory translations souring his enthusiasm. At that point they both wished they had not been instructed to ask her. The Aon refused to humor them with any pleasantries. As it went, she would leave in a body bag.

"F-A..."

"Fatality. We have that one." The DIGET was turned to the Aon, with Kristopher pointing to the repeated word. The spelling stopped. Together the men went over the list for themselves, scrolling up and down the names she had given herself.

After a minute, Roston spoke up. "These are pretty bad." His finger traced under the terms that affronted him the most.

"Thought 'coffin stuffer' was pretty clever," Kristopher chuckled, his attempt at sounding peppy failing.