So I actually am somewhat ahead in chapter posts. The one that’s being posted tomorrow is done, apart for some editing. So, instead of lazing about, I decided to start work on the next chapter. So now I’ve just introduced a new character. Now I want this scene to both be horrifying and humourous. Horrifying because… well, you’ll see. The humor is there to kind of let you know that May isn’t really a bad person, she just comes off as completely terrifying because she’s a friggin’ medical genius with no filter.
When next I opened my eyes, I was in lying in my bunk. My head was facing the cement wall my bed was right next to. I moaned. “Oh good!” A woman with somewhat of a contralto voice excitedly said, “You’re awake!”
I turned my head around. The first thing I noticed about her was her face. Blond hair with purple tips in some areas fell randomly around her face. Despite how baggy and bloodshot her eyes were (the right was brown, the left green,) they still shone with childish excitement, which matched her ecstatic grin. However, the thing that would draw your eye the most was the network of scars on her face.
The largest one ran down from about an inch above her eye down to her jaw. A spiderweb of scars went from her nose to her ear. Strangely, the only scar that was on her cheek was the main scar.
She noticed me staring. “You like my scars?” she asked, “or is it my heterochromia?” Before I could answer, she began to ramble on. “I actually don’t have heterochromia. I got this eye the same way I got my scars. You see, when I was like five my dad was taking me and my sister to ballet practice (she’s my twin and goes here by the way) and I decided I was going to practice something in the car, so I took off my seatbelt and stood in the center, you know, between the two front seats, and dad turns to yell at me to put my seatbelt back on, and so he doesn’t see the car merging onto the highway so my sister tells him to watch out and he slams on the brakes and the next thing I know I’m awake in the hospital!”
She took a deep breath, then continued. “So, when I wake up in the hospital bed with my mom and dad and sister and, like, all the doctors and nurses ever looking down at me and they’re saying how they managed to get rid of some of my scars by sewing them from the inside and how I was the first person they ever did a full ocular transplant on and my mom just cried.” She paused, then said, “That’s when I decided I wanted to be a doctor. They get to do all this cool stuff.” She beamed even wider like this was some kind of an achievement.
Just a quick note: Whenever she talks, you should probably assume that there aren’t actually spaces between the words.
“So are you in the medic program…?” I asked hesitantly. She shook her head. “Nah, too much hurting people, not enough helping people. Or research. Research is really fun! Did I ever tell you about the time I accidentally dissected a living HSR? I was doing this basic lab work, I think it was dissection, and he comes in and tells me that he thinks that there’s something moving in his stomach. One of the seniors at the time had told me he was, like, trying to biologically recreate a xenomorph from the film Alien, and I saw him give this oh crap look so I was totally like, ‘dude, we have to operate right the fuck now’ and he gets on the table without any prompting and says ‘do it here!’ I tell him I need to get some anesthetic, and he tells me that he’s a regenerator so it won’t work so I start cutting into him, desperately trying to find a baby xenomorph and he’s talking about where it’s going and for some reason he keeps calling me ‘mistress’ and flat-out begging me to keep cutting me and going on and on about how he deserves it and how pain is so wonderful, all while I keep having to deal with his tissue restitching itself and getting harder to cut. Then I realized that since he’s a regenerator, his immune system would probably be able to deal with a xenomorph egg.” She paused, reflecting on something. “Also, now that I think about it, he… seemed way too happy about being cut up. Like, sexually happy.” She shuddered, then continued in her normal motormouth way. “So I had been recording because what I was supposed to be doing was recording me dissecting a frog and I hadn’t stopped because saving regenerators from chestbursters was probably going to be interesting, so I post it on CampusNet. Next thing I know, it’s the most-watched video it CampusNet and there’s like all this fan art of me as a dominatrix floating around. Really creepy. Anyway, I guess the moral of the story is always, always, always… set your videos of surgery to private. Because people are fucking perverts.”