Genre: Horror
Plot: After a surgery, the patient experiences memories of murder.
Words to use: scalpel, operation, mix-up, transplant, oxygen, pulse, shock, transfusion, nurse, code, afterlife, rebirth, mind, unlock, chamber
Chapter 1 – Darkness Lifting
Amelia Harrow moved through the world silent, like a shadow no one bothered to remember.
Her world had been dark since birth. Her mother called her a sorrowful defect, the cause of her father leaving. It had been a shock. Probably a mix-up. But, her mother found her perfect for the background of her life.
The years of blindness was her shelter in darkness. Her world shrank into memorized footsteps and familiar voices. She creeped along walls that got shorter with time. She hated the dependance, especially at night, with her only companion was the wind rustling outside her window. She was the shadow trailing beside her mother through life, crowded sidewalks, stores, and the waiting rooms that smelled of dust and antiseptic. She accepted her life as it was, without thought of anything else. Until…
“There is a new surgical procedure,” she heard the nurse tell her mother during a check up. Amelia could feel the weight of her mothers gaze on her with nervous tingles through her spine.
“What kind of surgery? Can she ever be…normal?” her mother asked, the despondent tone was one that Amelia recognized. There would be no reason to get overly excited. She learned her lesson about excitement. Amelia’s pulse raced, then relaxed into the same indifference.
“It is special, a transplant from a willing donor. A donor who wants to help others,” the nurse responded, “but, the operation is complex and experimental and it’s a chance for your daughter to see. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
“Oh, yes,” Amelia’s mother responded with a sigh. Amelia thought she sounded strangely sincere. Something she wasn’t used to. “Like a rebirth. Are there any complications?”
Amelia’s mother gazed at her daughter with a smile, and the decision didn’t take too much thought. A miracle that couldn’t be turned down. Amelia would often hear her mother talk about her, wishing her daughter could see…finally.
“It is possible that it won’t be successful one hundred percent. She may reject the tissue, but we give her medicine to lower the chance,” the nurse continued. Amelia’s mind wandered.
The surgery had been arranged. Her mother remained indifferent as they waited, not wanting to give into hope. Amelia remained silent sitting in her chair, the window open, the breeze whispering to her. Till her mother said it was time.
“Remember to cooperate, Amelia,” her mother told her and she helped her change into a gown that felt stiff and rough.
“Of course, mother,” she replied.
“You want to see, don’t you?” She pushed socks on her daughters feet and lifted her legs onto the bed. “Even for my sake.”
“Yes, mother,” Amelia settled herself into the sheets, the smell of bleach overwhelmed her nose. She sneezed and her mother wiped her nose with a huff.
“I’ll be there when you wake up.” Amelia heard her mother gather her own belongings, keys rustling in her hand.
“Do you promise?”
“Yes, Amelia, I promise.”
Oxygen flowed from the tubes, pushing itself inside her nose, making a low hum. The air lifted her nostrils and filled her lungs. Murmurs of voice behind masks were faint. Amelia couldn’t understand anything they said as they conversed, one speaking stern, the others answering back in submissive tones. She heard a scalpel scratching against a metal tray.
“You have nothing to worry about Amelia,” the male voice told her. “You will go to sleep and awake with the gift of sight.”
His voice put Amelia at ease. She took a deep breath and wiggled beneath the sheet as she did at home, comforting herself, singing softly to herself an aria she remembered as a little girl from the radio in the kitchen.
He directed her to count backwards from one hundred. She started “one hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight,” and things went completely silent.
The memories were as a transfusion flowing through her veins, filtering through her kidneys, and released from her body.
The dreams started…more like visions…unreal, things Amelia had never…seen. Her mind broke. Mirrors reflected her image, but only an outline. Fog shrouded the image. Behind her, the shape of a woman appeared, pale, hair wet, stringy, eyes stitched shut, her breath making the hairs of the back her head stand on end. She spun around, but there was nothing there. In the distance, a distorted, high-pitched note pierced her ears. It morphed and faded, rain pelted against harbor streets, smelling of brine and sweat. Waves crashed as a cathedral bell tolled in the fog. Vale Harbor was written in a sign, pointing to a grand house overlooking the sea from the edge of a cliff. She heard a whisper in her ear, broken and soft: “He buried the truth with me.” It faded again, turning into darkness, an afterlife. Before…unspeakable fear overwhelmed her. Her eyes began to bleed from the stitches, like tears, staining her white dress. Her mother is going to be angry. Panic filled her from edge to edge.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that what she saw, the dream world, weren’t random nightmares, but pieces of a code, a terrible one from someone trying to get her to understand.
They were broken memories, but not her own. Suppressed screams came from her mouth. Tears rolled down her face. Muscles jerked, trying to run, but her legs were in cement. She felt the needles puncture her skin, stitches pulled tight against her face. A heart monitor beeped steadily.
She fell into a void and landed in a locked chamber. She felt the icy metal as she tried to unlock the door.
She awoke with a shudder and squeal. She took a deep breath to calm her heart. She felt the pressure of bandages against her eyes, held fast with surgical tape. Sparkles of light, of red, green and blue, stars within a universe behind her shut eyes.
“Mama,” Amelia muttered behind the bandage. No answer.
“It’s your nurse, dear,” the voice said, “your mother left you in my charge. She’ll be back soon. How are you feeling?” the voice sounded thin, uneven, low, betraying fear she tried to bury.
“I had dreams,” Amelia replied, “of a life that wasn’t mine. What does that mean? Can I see yet?” Amelia’s body trembled. She tried to remove the bandage, but the nurse grabbed her hands and stopped her.
“You can’t remove them yet, Amelia,” the nurse replied, “wait till the doctor says so. He will be in later.” Amelia kept struggling against her grip. “I will let you go if you promise to not remove them. Can you do that?”
Amelia nodded, relenting into the nurse’s will, and let her hands drop to her sides, resting on the bed. The room went quiet. A tear fell from one of her new eyes. Her stomach twisted. She drifted back into a deep sleep, twitching and twisting, crying came from her room. She felt a wet rag on her forehead, the coolness calming her. She slept restlessly.
Amelia shuddered and shot up in bed, panting, and drenched in sweat. Her head pounded and her eyes ached. She could sense a light flicker close by. She heard the ticking of the wall clock on the other side of the room. It matched the pounding of her head.
A stiff breeze blew past her. A relief for the moment. It brought the smell of orange and jasmine and…rotting flesh. The bandage slipped. Her blood ran cold. Haze and shadows filled the room from beneath the bandage.
Amelia turned her head toward the rain-streaked window. Grey light filtered through. For a moment, she thought someone stood reflected in the glass.
A woman.
Tall and motionless.
Her hair, dark and wet, hung wet against the pale hospital gown.
“Are you a patient?” Amelia asked. The woman turned her head slowly.
Where her eyes should have been–black stitches sealed her lids shut.
Amelia gasped. That can’t be normal.
She blinked and turned momentarily, the woman disappeared. The reflection smiled.