Page 40 of Hospital for Immortal Creatures

“Doctor Nyavolski”—the feeble tone belonged to a youngster who had been recently hired—“the orderly fainted in the middle of the room. What should I do? She’s not waking up!”

“What?”

“Fourth floor. West Wing. I’m on call and was just finishing up with a patient. He bled, I called the orderly and she fainted at the sight of the blood. What do I do? Should I ask for help?” The boy was breathless by the end of his speech.

“Resuscitate her!” Vladislav barked.

“No, she doesn’t need that, more like she’s sleepy…”

“Then slap her across the face!” With that, Vladislav hung up. If he had to deal with every insignificant problem in this hospital, he’d never get to finish anything worthwhile.

He glanced at his watch. The patient must be ready by now. He left his office and headed to the OR.

The unlucky bastard in question had arrived in a private jet from France hours earlier. Someone had impaled him with a wooden stake, four inches of which were sticking out of his back. This was a frequent occurrence, as there was a common misconception among other creatures that piercing a vampire with a wooden stake would kill them. Few realised that any kind of weapon could kill a vampire, so long as it tore through a vital organ. And so long as Vladislav didn’t interfere.

A few hours ago, when the vampire’s girlfriend had called from France to arrange his admission to the Hospital, she’d received specific instructions to stabilise the stake with bandages. The vampire’s body, albeit with slowed regenerative abilities, could survive around twenty-four hours with such trauma before dying. Despite that small bonus, the accompanying pain was enough to dissuade most creatures from postponing treatment. Upon his patient’s arrival, Vladislav had ordered painkillers, sedation and intubation, and then the patient was taken to the OR.

Vladislav was snapped of his recollection when Nora, one of his pupils who was improving by the second, caught up with him in the hallway.

Before she could open her mouth, Vladislav beat her to it. “Not now, Nora. I’m needed in the OR.”

“But, Doctor, I just have a quick question! It’s important.”

Vladislav slowed his pace, giving her the chance to walk with him and talk. “Downstairs, in reception, we got a manticore with a bike accident. Light head injury, trimalleolar fracture, fluid in the stomach. What do I do?”

Vladislav halted. “You wanna know what to do.”

She nodded.

“You know the three oak trees that you can see through the window in the common room of the surgical ward?” he asked.

She blinked at him, a slight frown creasing her brow.

“You know them?” he insisted.

“Yes… yes?”

“Well, go down and hang yourself on one of them.”

She gaped. “But…”

“Admit him, damn it!” Vladislav yelled, resuming his stride down the corridor. “You admit him, run all the tests, then go in and operate!”

“I know, but… won’t you check on him first?”

“To give you my blessing? Scram!”

Helena liked to say he was too irritable. Too hasty.

Not true. Everyone else was slow and disoriented.

As soon as he set foot in the OR, he started issuing orders. “Knife!” He cut open the vampire’s stomach from the chest to the pelvis in a swift motion. “Don’t just stand there! Retract!”

The last order was meant for one of his two assistants – a young lycanthrope who was seeing such an injury for the first time. The boy was sweating, barely holding himself together, but Vladislav remained unyielding.

“Don’t pull so hard, damn it!” Vladislav moved the intestines carefully, tracing the stake’s path. The insides of vampires were very similar to human ones. The only difference was they seemed paler, almost like they were paralysed. “Nothing interesting. The idiot will only lose his spleen.” He ligated the blood vessels and muttered, “Remove the stake.”

After the two assistants had taken out the wooden rod, Vladislav separated the spleen and scanned the abdominal cavity for other possible injuries. He pulled the colon down and froze.

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