Diary Of An Occult Resolution Assistant

by Chris Norgate

  Xanthic left, he rushed to the door but did offer his warning again about being safe but the necessity for covering as much ground as possible. He told us both to guard the blade, it was and will be invaluable in our duties. I felt in all the rush I had escaped a dressing down from Xanthic for losing it in the first place. Before he left he paused two beds down and he whispered something into the ear of BQ who looked as if something he had long suspected had just been confirmed.

  "Bloody nurses." hissed BQ, "I knew they were favouring the posh patients. Wait until one of them comes in to change this bandage, I'll give 'em what for" gesturing as best he could with fingers poking through his dressings.

  I dressed after pulling the privacy curtain around my bed, into something more suitable for wandering corridors but more importantly something less drafty in the rear incase of quick exits, made sure I had the blade in my bag and shoulder to shoulder with Ludo we stepped out of the hospital ward to search for danger of demonic kind whilst leaving conversations between BQ and The Gent about informing the Daily Mail about the mistreatment of the honest working class in favour of workshy bankers and C list celebrities. I think we were getting off lightly.

  *

  I'm not a trained investigator so the thought of going out to look for a killer, especially one who had already had a stab at killing me - literally and physically, in a building that was almost the size and population of a small city filled me with dread, especially without my employer and guide since I discovered what I thought of as my raw talents as a witch and the otherworldly inhabitants of my world, our world that we all live alongside whether we like it or not and especially as I also had a tag along that works here, taking the pain of others for his - its, nourishment and in daylight appears to be a rotten corpse and - probably worse in shade looks like a wide mountain man that hasn't seen a razor in about as long as he last saw a bath full of water.

  Ludo gave me the facts on the hospital. Originally built in the 50's with an almost total refurbishment in 2012; several new buildings and extension throughout the life of the building and service areas that the public can't go. Six stories above ground, two partial ones below plus a separate morgue and incinerator complex. Thirty eight Working logically we needed to scale down the foot falls to cover the greatest area in a targeted way.

  "OK." I said. "If I were hunting 'Something' that is killing here." I waved my arms around to emphasis the whole building. "I would start in the morgue where all the dead bodies are." I felt proud for this piece of thinking.

  "Possible." replied Ludo, his face betraying a 'BUT' hanging after that word left unsaid.

  "But......" I injected.

  "Any Under Fae or Extraxi won't be caught dead in a morgue. We feed off life and have as much negative associations with the dead as humans do. No, unless we are dealing with a Demon who revels in decay and rot, then we need to head where the life is strongest."

  "So we can rule out the wrinkly wards too."

  "I would, for now. There maybe a lot of death there and probably the easiest to cover tracks on but it'll be like eating a biscuit when there is a gluttony of feasts elsewhere. No, if I were looking for fast easy prey to regenerate my strength I would want a constant supply of succour and a death rate that wouldn't draw too much attention. A strong life vs high death ratio if you will.

  "Surely there isn't that many places here for that?" I asked. "You work here, ruling out the morgue and those waiting for it, run of the mill stuff like operations and accident and emergency, where else is there?"

  "Hold on. I think you may have something. We don't know what the food supply is, it’s not blood. If a vampire was here I would know about it, Hell you all would know it, there's a reason why everyone know they exist and the rest of us slip away into the murk."

  Ludo went on to explain Extraxi could feed upon many things coming from the 'warms'. Pain and suffering being the most fulfilling but other Extraxi have evolved for different diets such as fear, sadness and grief - some even cause the grief by hurting or killing an individual and then feed off the loved ones, panic, some even feed off positive emotions and generate enormous well being in people then syphon it off. Some at the top of the Extraxi evolutionary chain can feed off all emotions and latch onto an individual and generate crushing lows followed by nirvana like states of ecstasy within them just to feast upon the subtle changes in taste and delicacy .

  "So accident and emergency would be ideal, so much life force generated post injury for the body to recover and with the ever present deaths from the serious cases. I think it would be the best place to start. What do you think?" Ludo didn't so much ask the question than infer this was where he was starting.

  "That and they are usually so busy they wouldn't notice a few extra people hanging around for a time." I added; If I had a coat I would have collected it.

  I asked Ludo to lead the way to A&E. Partially this was because he worked here and knew the way, but partially because there was a bit part of me that didn't want a soulless feeder that preys on humans standing behind me where I couldn't see him.

  This plan was soon changed when Ludo whipped out a wheel chair and asked me to get in

  "It'll look less suspicious if an porter pushes you around the corridors." he said.

  *

  Hospitals are busy places; the hustle and bustle of nurses, cleaners, doctors, patients and kith and kin - like any moderately busy town centre; but if the general hospital was busy then A&E was like an international airport at Christmas. The waiting room was bigger than my flat in its entirety and filled to the rafters with all manner of people coughing, bleeding, sleeping, talking and on occasion, singing. It looked old and tired, the walls, decoration and most of the uniformed staff too.

  "Where do we start?" I asked looking around at the room. The task made worse by a multitude of corridors, cubicles, rest rooms, side rooms and more corridors.

  "I can't tell if there are any of my kind about, too much pollution from the humans, but if I were to get closer then it'll be easier to tell. Not only will they stand out to me but hopefully they'll recognise you and run...........or try to finish what they started."

  I didn't like the way Ludo smiled at his last statement.

  "We'll stay away from well lit or public areas, my kind do not look our best in light and they wouldn't want to be face to face with a mob, and trust me, one look into the eyes of my kind on a feeding hunt will turn all of these people into a mob, it’s built into you all on a primal level; you'll be surprised how quickly you can find a bushel of burning torches and a pile of pitchforks." Ludo looked around checking a huge mob hadn't snuck up behind him.

  "Xanthic said this thing is new here, so I doubt it'll be a member of staff, OK?

  So would you recognise someone pretending to work here or hanging around?" I mused aloud. "How long can someone be here in A&E before they're kicked out? Do they still have visiting hours? Can a relative or something hang around all hours?"

  "Um, not sure, possibly, don't know." answered Ludo scratching the unruly hair on his chin. "But I do know with all the checks, background and work history that it'll be almost impossible to trick a job here, and with the teams we work in an imposter will stand out real quick."

  Ludo stood tall on his heels, breathed in far too deeply for anyone pretending to be human and swept his gaze around then bent low to speak into my ear.

  "Night is drawing close, I can feel it, so let’s just go. We can plan and think but I always trust in luck, random and chaotic so it is but it's going to be the best we can hope for, so hold on tight and think lucky."

  We swept through the main room, a few eyebrows were raised but the battle hardened staff had witnessed much more anarchic behaviour and a tut from a nurse was all the comment we heard about an orderly racing a wheelchair bound patient through the corridors.

  We managed to cover most of the area this way, only a meal trolley and a hard working kitchen porter had slowed us down but Ludo for a large 'man' was ver
y spry and escorted myself in that chair out of a serious risk of being scalded - ok 'warmed' by trays of hospital food.

  *

  There is a doctor patient confidentiality thingy which means information cannot

  be passed by any route from consultation room to .......well here.....but as I was neither a doctor nor a patient then I guess that doesn't count.

  We had a routine of a quick knock on a door, open it, look at the person/people within, mutter an apology and close the door before anyone could complain. Followed by quickly moving onto the next. An orderly and patient can get away with this if quick enough. What we saw was an education for me and (in Ludo's words after) a mouth watering feast he could not touch.

  There was a young man, head down, arse very much in the air with a doctor stitching a wound, caused by sitting on a bottle for a bet.

  "I couldn't see his face." I said

  "But our Extraxi wouldn't be here for that and the doctor was human. Very sweet pain in there, do I have time for a quick sip? It'll be better for him than any local anaesthetic."

  My look told him very quickly there wasn't and we moved onto the next door.

  A woman, naked to the waist and laying face down on the bed, was being looked over by a nurse; on her back a very large and very inflamed tattoo. Blood was seeping from the swellings and her blonde hair matted with sweat and stuck into scabs and congealed fluids.

  From the tears of the patient and the stifled laughter of the nurse as she sterilized and cleaned, we both came to the conclusion this was not our goal. Neither noticed or cared about our intrusion or exit.

  "Did you see that picture?" I asked as the door slowly closed on its spring.

  "Two fat ladies riding on tiny mopeds?!" You humans are crazy." said Ludo laughing with a tear in his eye. In this darkened light they glinted blue and shone with an inner nobility. It’s a pity I had seen them red and flushed with diseased secretions pooling in the corners earlier as he loomed over me or I might have begun to like him.

  The next couple of consultation rooms had people receiving stitches and/or injections. None jumped out at us - figuratively or actually speaking, and so we moved on.

  Next was a mini waiting room filled with people on chairs or like me in a wheelchair, most were holding themselves and guarding a personal pain.

  "Next up X-Ray, always busy in A&E." said Ludo, "We won't get into those rooms so easily but we can try."

  I was wheeled around the corner and we saw a man, twenty something and in tatty jeans, shaven head, sleeveless tee shirt a very red grazes running up his arms from his wrists to his shoulders. He was more noticeable for his laying on the floor and hanging on for dear life.

  "Someone help me" or words to that effect once extracted of expletives and translated into English from 'street' The voice was loud but broken and whiny like my little niece when she doesn't get her own way. Oh and very very drunk.

  "Oh please help me rapidly, I seem to be about to fall off the floor." again, I translate into words Mothers would be happy to read here. I'm not sure what a Fur King is, but he seemed very keen on calling for one every other word.

  "He's obviously had a small half a shandy too many." I commented from the side of my mouth quietly. Ludo, his mouth at my ear spoke in a rich tone I had not heard from him before. I felt myself leaning in towards his voice it was so smooth.

  "Did you know you humans spend more than half your lives blind?"

  I shook my head and felt his beard against my cheek, funny but it felt as soft as puppy fur.

  "Your eyes act like cameras, taking still pictures and sending them to your brain. Your brain tries to make sense of what it sees and it judges movement, changes and other things by comparing it to the last picture sent. Brilliant if your brain wanted to keep check on that funny mound in the long grass 1,000,000 million years ago and watch as it slowly gets closer and what are those big white teeth like things; then wow, it looks very dark in here."

  I took this in unsure where he was going with this. He continued. "Well, you are blind for all the gaps in-between the stills; anything from half to two thirds of your waking life. In the blind times the muscles around your eyes move, but the brain is clever enough to move the picture around and keep things central - like a really clever steadicam. But! " This word was said with a flourish and his tempo of conversation increased as he was obviously enjoying himself.

  "But, alcohol is just basically sugar right, and such a refined fuel supply for your body that it kicks up a notch; same thing if you give a kid fizzy drink and chocolate; and the eyes start working faster, the gaps get shorter and the brain has to process the information much faster and it starts to slip. The auto focus that makes the world go steady tells you what you actually see not what you think you see, which is the world bobbing around and you all end up grabbing the bed, lamp post or any convenient friend or stranger. Fascinatingly though, I get recognised a lot more around club kicking out time even in darkest Winter. Must be the brain not having time to filter out all the superfluous, weird or confusing information and telling you how it is."

  "So drunk people see more demons than sober ones?" I asked but believing the theory behind it. I've seen some weird shit when drunk but put it down to a bad glass of lambrusco.

  "There is obviously no medical research into this mind you, but toddlers do look at me funny and any drunk trying to mug me as he staggers home soon runs a mile."

  I looked at him and the magic I was feeling over his honeyed voice and soft facial hair was instantly back to nought. It wasn't well lit here so he looked human but I would give him a 4, 4.5 at best; I've dated worse, but only with the assistance of.......alcohol!.

  "Where can we get enough alcohol to get truly plastered?" I asked with a glint of an idea forming.

  "There's gallons of the stuff in the staff rooms, but medicinal alcohol might be quicker and healthier for you.......ish." came the reply, he was obviously thinking the same way as I as he was now starting to manoeuvre my chair around to head back the way we came.

  The average NHS wheelchair can pick up a fair pace when needed, and I have to admit I was enjoying the ride, it was fun and there was alcohol to come in the very near future and if I didn't look directly at him, very pleasant company to boot. I had almost forgotten the inhuman animal that was at work hunting its prey in our midst until we got back to Ludo's territorial corridors where he plied his trade and an alarm sounded followed by a London marathon level of runners streaming towards the children's ward.

  "We've got two of the kids with fever crashing." called a nurse to her colleagues as they ran past us. "We could lose both of them." They were gone, we were left standing in the corridor. We needed to find strong alcohol - and we needed to find it NOW!.

  *

  It was hot and stale, the air still and the only movement was the sweat starting to roll down my back. I tried to move my head, to look around at where I found myself but it was impossible; my arms and legs would not move to my orders but I did not start to panic, instead a calm had come over me the same as when a young child is collected into its mother's welcoming arms and carried above all its problems back to the safety of its home, no control over its own movements but safe in the knowledge that it is protected and cared for.

  From my eyes I could see a countryside worsened by too much sun and too little rain. The grass, uncut and brown, did not wave as there was no wind, no breeze at all to disturb it or the dust road that cut through the grass leading to .......... here. I was bent over, arms folded on an ancient and cracked post and rail wooden fence whose colour, once dark and rich now grey and broken with deep gouges and cracks running between the grain. It was twisted and rickety but strong enough to act as a guide to where the dust road ended and the baked earth and grass began and to hold my weight as I casualty laid my weight upon it.

  The sun was low, setting I would guess from the heat of the day, and shadows ran the full length they were allowed. There must have been a tree behind me jud
ging from the shadow that lay to my side and stretched out merging with my own. The tree was dead, or leaf less, long branches with hundreds of offshoots stretching out like fingers reaching for the sky. My shadow was long and thin, different to my own and now I am not sure where I am or what I can see - still no panic, just the knowledge I am not where I once was, not who I once was.

  I cannot hear, nor smell, only see. I am behind someone else's eyes looking across a ruined meadow, standing on a small mound, on a bridge of mud and stone which lay over a dried up stream small enough to step over and only noticeable by the line it cut in the sloping ground around it and by its lack of brown grass which was dominant everywhere else.

  Here, in this dry scene, a tree, a stream, the grass and me, I was completely alone. There were no birds in the sand coloured sky, there were no animals on the ground, no rodents, no cattle, no insects within the grass. There was one fly, a large black thing making a haphazard route along the rough cut bed of the stream, following it but not crossing it. It flew in my peripheral vision until it was out of sight. It had made no noise; either it was silent or there was no sound here to carry to the ears this body must have had.

  The fly had gone.

  A shadow appeared to my left, it moved slowly across the grass until it reached the height and shape of my own; another person I guessed. it sagged, leaning on the railing just as I. It was now motionless, soundless. My guests body did not move to observe this new comer, nor did it move its mouth or tongue to vocalise the recognition of its presence.

  We were just there, two people on the same dust road, in the same countryside and on the same squat bridge. I was on my side of the waterless stream and they were on the other.