Spooktober – 50ccs of Red

To reiterate his advice, Derek points on the paper and says again, “C73X21-722. It’s flavoring in the blood varies based on how long you let it float around. You need to treat it like a fine wine: the longer you let it sit untouched, the more the flavor will change. When it first goes into the patient, it will be sweeter than a pound of sugar. But let it simmer and circulate through his blood after enough time, the sweetness will slowly thin out until it’s only slightly bitter. It only takes about forty-eight hours for it to reach that point.”

Becky’s eyes dart away as she takes Derek’s advice into consideration. As much as she likes sweet things, her sweet-tooth can only take so much before she finds the food disgusting. If she manages to time it right, she should be able to find a nice balance between the sweetness and fatty flavor of her patient’s blood, “Would the twenty hour mark be fine?”

“Personally, that’s my perfect time marker to drink.”

“C73 it is then.” Finally able to come to a solid decision, Becky puts the paper back onto the nail and opens the cooler below it, getting his by a thick mist of frost that sends shivers down her back. After taking a moment to search through the dozen of different IVs stored away, she finally takes out the one she needs. The see-through, plastic pack contains a foggy colored liquid swaying back and forth. “What’re you doing in here, Derek? I thought today was your day off?”

Derek walks over to another cooler in the room, “It was. However, I got a message for a ‘special case’ patient that’s arriving today, so I couldn’t miss this. I’m just grabbing a few things I’ll need before the person arrives. Have a patient who’s recently just come back from rehabilitation and they were found passed out drunk at home when the paramedics arrived.”

Becky heads for the door, but asks one last question before stepping out, “You just want to drink their blood to see just how tweaked they were, don’t you? Trying to get drunk at work?”

Derek lets out a small chuckles and shrugs, “Guilty as charged.”

Becky can’t help but laugh as Derek’s straight-forward honesty. “Save me a vial if you can. Wouldn’t mind feeling a bit buzzed myself on an overnight shift.”

“You got it.”

Finished with her co-worker and the room Becky calmly steps out with the IV bag in her coat pocket, trying to imagine what Mr. Marshall’s, her elderly patient, blood will taste like after she grabs a few vials from his body.

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