Page 95 of Hospital for Immortal Creatures

She neared the lift and pressed the button. Nothing happened.

Then she returned to the corridor and reached its other end. This exit was also locked.

By nightfall, she was still alone, so she decided to look around the study. Warm air crept inside through a slightly ajar window. A bureau stood by the far wall, a deserted chair right before it. The wooden surface was empty of papers and the expected clutter, but a thick line of dust covered it. On the opposite wall, a floor-to-ceiling library towered above Amelia, with ordered books filing up the shelves. Most of them had curious titles such as The Story of the Dusseldorf Witch, Memoirs of a Forgotten Vampire, and Memorials from the Immortal War in London.

Amelia pulled out a heavy book with hard black covers. The golden-etched title read, Anatomy and Physiology, Behaviour and Characteristics of the Immortal Species – Manticore. Underneath, in cursive writing, was the author’s name – Gina K. Niani, PhD.

Curious, Amelia scanned the author’s biography. ‘Gina K. Niani, PhD, spent years working as a doctor in the Hospital for Immortal Creatures, where she studied the anatomy and physiology of the immortal species. Using her experience, she crafted a textbook suitable for practising doctors, as well as those still in training, and anyone who wishes to expand their knowledge. This edition focuses on the manticore, one of the seven immortal species.’

Amelia flipped through the book, then went back to read the introduction. ‘A manticore is an immortal species that exists in two alternative forms. The so-called human form, due to its great similarity to the mortal species, is preferred by most manticores. A manticore is practically undistinguishable from a human in this form. The secondary, so-called supernatural form, carries the distinct features of the species – a muscular body covered with fur, wide paws with black nails, a thick tail ending with a spike, and a pair of solid dark wings (span of six feet and six inches). A turned manticore resembles an extra-large lion with wings. The manticore’s joints are adapted for both two-legged and four-legged movement, allowing it to stand upright or run on all fours, though the latter is only possible for shorter distances. Despite the wide wingspan, a manticore cannot fly. The wings are used predominantly to help break their fall when jumping from great heights…’

The introduction was followed by a few very interesting chapters such as ‘Feeding,’ ‘Social Activity,’ and ‘Reproduction.’ Amelia jumped ahead to the last one. ‘The manticore can reach sexual maturity upon the advent of immortality. Female manticores can reproduce once every one to three years. Male manticores are fertile throughout most of their life. Intraspecies reproduction is possible, although not recommended, since it can lead to a loss of characteristics and the creation of the so-called hybrids.’

Amelia pondered over the last paragraph. The thought of Mikhail reproducing sparked her imagination. She pictured him naked, his scarred muscles tense with arousal and exertion, as he satisfied his lover. Her belly warmed at the image. What would it feel like to be the woman, inside whose body he chose to find relief? As much as she didn’t want anything to do with him and his world, she caught herself wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

She sighed, expulsing the absurd notion. This place had a strange impact on her. He had a strange impact on her.

Amelia had no idea if Mikhail had a woman by his side. In her dream, she’d seen the woman who had left him the four scars, but if her dreams matched reality, that woman was no longer alive. He had killed her.

A knot tightened in her stomach. If the scars were real, then everything else must also be true. None of this was a game or an illusion, and she was both terrified and torn by curiosity.

For the first time, she wished to dream.

She found herself in a picturesque garden surrounding a luxurious house. She had been wandering around for hours, peering into the huge windows, expecting to see something but not remembering what it was. A horrible feeling was rising in her chest and if she failed to calm it, it would suffocate her.

Amelia ignored her desire to cry and marched forward as the smell of death welcomed her home.

“Don’t stop!” The order was issued in her head, but it wasn’t in her voice.

She finally reached the front door and caressed the door handle with her fingertips. She didn’t dare grab it, because once she crossed the threshold, there was no coming back. Everything would become real.

“Go!” The voice demanded once again and she obeyed.

She walked through the front door, a movement occupying her peripheral vision. Turning to her left, she faced a dusty mirror. Her reflection stared back. No, not her reflection. Mikhail’s. She had become him, sharing his thoughts and emotions.

Mikhail headed down a narrow hallway. His pulse quickened. Every step was getting harder and harder, his legs becoming like lead. He knew what awaited him, and Amelia did, too, perceiving the world through his vision.

At the end of the corridor, another closed door tempted them. Mikhail – or Amelia, for she didn’t know where he ended and she began any longer – flung it open without hesitation and marched into the room.

What he found was far more devastating than anything he had ever expected or imagined.

Amelia wanted to scream, but Mikhail proceeded with his quiet survey of the surroundings, as if taking in every detail, so he could remember it forever.

His younger brother, Stephan. His corpse was lying helpless in a pool of dried-up blood. The bullet through his temple had disfigured his face. His entire body was marked by bullet holes, and a deep wound gaped across his neck.

Next to him lay the head of Mikhail’s older brother, Ivan, his body a few feet to the side, also peppered by bullets.

In the middle of the room, a man and a woman’s lifeless bodies curled against each other on a couch. Mikhail’s parents.

He took in the entire scene once more. The family he no longer had.

And yet, he was alive, doomed to continue existing – alone.

The image changed.

Amelia was gazing through a car window, enjoying the pleasant warmth of sunrays on a winter day. The weekend could not have been more perfect. Very soon, she would get to hold her daughter in her hands. They would all be together. Something so small, and what happiness it brought her…

Daughter?

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