Page 7 of Hospital for Immortal Creatures

“The witcher is a goner. We either help him or send him directly to the grave and spare him the torture.”

Alex was sceptical, forcing Viktor to wonder who she’d inherited that endless obstinacy from. With her blonde locks and warm brown eyes, she was a more beautiful version of her deceased mother, whom Viktor had seen only once, seventy-two years ago. The young lycanthrope had collapsed in front of the Hospital’s entrance, nine months pregnant. Her condition had rapidly deteriorated, and she passed away a few hours later. But not before she’d given birth to twins – a boy and a girl.

Back then, Viktor had been a surgeon in the Hospital and had performed a C-section, oblivious to the bond he would create with the two little creatures he’d helped bring into this world. Whether because they were the same species, or because he’d witnessed them take their first breaths of air, he didn’t know, but something happened that day that tied him irreversibly to them.

Today, Alex was following in his footsteps with her love for science, while Grigor… Well, he did sometimes show his face in the lab…

Alex headed past the laboratory tables, to the supplies closet, returning promptly with a small envelope in hand. Viktor emptied its contents into the boiling cauldron.

“Tell me”—he glanced at her over his shoulder as he stirred the pot—“what are the most common symptoms of wolfsbane poisoning?”

“Stiffness, tingling, gastrointestinal problems, rhythm disturbances, unconsciousness, seizures. Cause of death is respiratory failure and cardiac arrest,” Alex recited.

“Very good. I believe that this potion—”

“And I can’t believe that after all this time, you still think there’s something I don’t know!”

Viktor couldn’t help but laugh. “Repetition is the mother of learning, the father of action, and the architect of accomplishment. Look at your brother. There’s so much he hasn’t learnt these past seventy years.”

Alex grabbed the wooden spoon from his hands and started stirring. “He has different interests, none of which have anything to do with healing.”

Viktor was aware the boy hopped from one hobby to another like a bee seeking pollen, and he’d never landed on the flower of healing of his own volition. It was said that the first century of a creature’s life was dominated by the awakening of desires, sensations, and abilities. Grigor was seventy-two, so it was no surprise that he’d so far dedicated his entire life to amusements. “Maybe you should also try to relax and have fun every now and again.”

“How am I supposed to do that when I already know everyone in this building?”

“Everyone, really?”

“Yes. And they’re all boring, to say the least. You don’t allow us to go out on our own…” She let out a dramatic sigh.

“That will change one day.”

“You’ve been saying that for seventy-two years now. Nothing ever changes.”

It was Viktor’s turn to sigh. No matter what biological species one was born as, each creature began their life mortal. At some point, usually around twenty-five, but sometimes later – thirty, forty, even fifty years old – they would become immortal. And in that moment, their immortal secondary form was unlocked.

The first turning was a special moment. Every internal organ and bone inside the body would tear and regenerate. That was how the body reconstructed and adapted to the new shape. Once this painful process ceased, every turning that followed was a blessing. Or…that was how it was supposed to go.

In the last few years, however, the first transformation had had detrimental effects on the immortals, regardless of their species. The weakened regenerative abilities couldn’t sustain the body during the first turning. Many lost their lives trying to adapt to their new biological form. They called them the New Generation – creatures that had become immortal after 1744 and couldn’t unlock their secondary form. They had all the qualities of their species, except the ability to turn and harness the powers brewing inside them.

Alex and Grigor were New Generation, so Viktor found it very reasonable to be extra protective and forbid them from leaving the Hospital premises alone.

They knew the reasons behind his precautions, yet as he grabbed an old book off a nearby shelf, he said, “I can’t afford anything to happen to either of you.”

“Being locked up in here is worse than anything that could happen out there.” She leaned over the potion. “How much longer?”

“Half an hour, and you don’t need to stir it constantly.”

“I know that. I was asking how much longer until we accept that regeneration will never be the same as it used to be. A century? Two?”

Viktor raised his eyes from the book. “The good news is you’re immortal, even without your secondary form. You can wait as long as it takes.” Even as he said the words, he realised they were a lie. The so-called immortals were ageing, albeit slowly. It was only a matter of time before they started dying of old age.

“And what would change, if I could turn?”

“The lycanthrope’s secondary form is incredibly powerful. Were someone to attack you, you could defend yourself.”

“Why would anyone attack me? All the wars are over.”

“Humans are dangerous.”

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