It had been far longer than what most might find to be a normal shift that day, but duty calls and I didn’t spend so long in college for nothing. Sixteen hours and an almost deadly amount of caffeine left me terribly exhausted. The whole ordeal was neither a crime of passion nor a fit of rage, but rather pure stupidity. A middle-aged man headed home from the bar, and a terribly unlucky set of passengers aboard a Greyhound bus southbound off I-35 towards Kansas City.

No less than four people were brought to us in critical condition, and another six were sporting fractures, whiplash, and abrasions. The final few, the particularly lucky ones, only sported little more than a few cuts or whiplash. The bus driver and the inebriated man weren’t quite so lucky. The bus driver was DOA and the inebriated driver himself died during his operation.

We couldn’t have saved him, just the amount of blood loss damned him, but that didn’t stop us from trying. His wife on the other hand didn’t believe that, for hours she interrupted nurses, doctors, and even some patients, threatening to sue us over a mistake her husband had made himself. If it weren’t for how terrible he had looked, I believe she would have dragged him home from the accident and told him to sleep it off.

Thousands of years of progress and still the uneducated housewife thinks she knows more than someone with a degree in the medical field. How terribly bothersome. I waved back to the receptionist as I stepped through the automatic doors of the hospital.

“Get some sleep, Emma!” the young woman called out to me. I didn’t bother to turn around and waved my hand dismissively. Exhaustion and guilt created a storm within my gut. Sure, rationally, I was certain we could not have done anything to save him, not in such a fatal condition, but that didn’t stop my mind from tossing blame.

I let another sigh escape my lips. “I need a cigarette,” I dug through my bag, the white coat I had donned doing its best to prevent the mistake. I know the risks, have for years, but sometimes you need to take the edge off. Liquor works, sometimes, but I would much rather be left to fester in my thoughts. What could we have done better? That sort of thing always crossed my mind with each life lost.

I am well aware I’m not a saint of any sort, I’ve made mistakes. Will make mistakes.

As I took another long drag from my cigarette, a bizarre feeling caught me. For a few seconds, my heart felt as though it was being squeezed and my vision blurred. Like going far too fast before your body can catch up. And then, once I cleared my head, there it, well, wasn’t. What had once been the parking lot of our ten-story hospital, was nothing more than a field of grass and a single tree atop a small gentle hill.

“…What the fuck?”

“Oh, hello,” a young, almost childlike voice greeted me.

I spun around, narrowing my eyes as I tried to find the one who had spoken. As opposed to a person before me, or rather a human, instead there stood an ethereal transparent woman. She looked young, somewhere about fifteen. She had gentle curves and very little in the chest department. Of course, it may not have even been chest seeing as her skin was crusted by what seemed like bark. Her hair, of course, was an assortment of vines and flowers. I didn’t recognize any of them, not that I ever put my time into studying much of flora or fauna beyond emergency treatments.

“…Who are you?” I finally spat out, hesitant to speak to such an odd… creature. Whatever she was, it wasn’t natural.

“My apologies for surprising you. I’m the patron god of life,” she bowed her head slightly. “Or at least, for Arithia. Your world is something of an enigma to me, I don’t think you have gods.”

Barring the confirmation that God probably didn’t exist from, hopefully, a reputable source, and the sheer weight of that statement, I opened my mouth to speak before biting my tongue lightly. “What do you mean you’re a god? Better yet, why is a god approaching ME of all people?”

“You died. Or rather, you would have done so shortly,” she answered hesitantly, “Which, I’ll admit is perhaps unbelievable. That’s important, though, because I’d like your help.”

“Hold the phone. A god wants my help? Me? I’m just an infectiologist,” I raised my eyebrow as a look of disgusted disbelief squeezed its way onto my face. “People don’t usually just want help. I really don’t think a god would be one to search for help.”

The god just gave me a look of offended shock. As though I had just finally admitted I was the one who ran over her dog six years back when I was dating her. I speak from experience, truthfully, but she didn’t tell me she actually had a dog. I thought it had been a stray.

Then, she clenched her what I can only assume is a hand into a fist and practically exploded. “They’re just so stupid! All those stupid plants, all those stupid animals, all those stupid things myself and the other gods created for their own stupid good! They’re still using methods from when they were so much less!” She gave a frustration laced groan.

“…Oh,” I stood there slack jawed, “So you’re…”

“I want your help fixing that. They’re dying and hurting for no reason other than they don’t look.”

“I… That’s… Woooph. That’s a bag of worms I really shouldn’t have opened,” I muttered.

“Is that a yes or no?”

“I’m just a doctor,” I grunted, “I don’t tend to do big picture.”

“That’s exactly what I want. You’re doing what you wish to do, it’s not some motive or goal driving you.”

“Is that okay? For what you want me to do? I won’t put every ounce of myself into it.”

“It doesn’t matter, if they slowly learn it, they’ll accept it.”

“I would have died right?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes, thank you.”

I heard the distinct crunch of leaves falling and a soft breeze and found myself standing before a dirt road, covered with broken rock and flattened grass. Some of the trees emitted a soft glowing mist that curled in the wind. I took a breath, the unfamiliar scent of grass and wet dirt filling my nose as I looked around.

I turned and looked towards the left, the winding curve of the road lended little in the way of directions, nor did the twin dawning stars. The right portion of the road downhill towards a cascading river in the distance lended just as much.

However, a trail of smoke curled into the air above the trees nearest the river. A respectable distance from the road whilst still near enough for a camp. My choices lay with a walk of unknown distance, or what it may be that created the smoke. As one might, and for a lack of exercise in the past several years, I elected to follow the smoke.

I took my first step and felt an odd tingle run through my body, not unlike a sensation akin to one walking on one’s grave. Except for the warm current that soon followed, as though there was a buzzing in my veins. It was odd, but not as important compared to shelter and food for the moment.

My approach did not take all that long, but I was greeted by the sight of a wagon. The back was mangled, and the wheels were torn apart and scattered along the forest floor. There were the remains of a large beast, something I had never seen before. Scales covered its legs and long matted fur covered the rest of its bottom.

The broken remains of a freshly bloodstained horn and cloak lay together on the nearby ground. The puddle of blood was large, and still freshly soaking into the Earth. That amount of bloodloss would leave the victim near death. Not even hours into my arrival and I may have my first patient.

A dead one, if I didn’t move quickly enough.

Kaffeina

My apologies for not putting effort into other stories, but this project has been brewing awhile.