pocket and pulled out his glasses. Putting them on, he
began to read.
“Dr. Matthias L. Kade… Strythsford Medical in
L.A. But how?”
“I’m thirty-two, sir. I specialize in genetics and
abnormal diseases. Just what your son needs. Now, if I
may see the patient, I could save him if it’s not too late.”
Herald stared at Claire a moment and then
nodded.
“This way, Dr. Kade,” Claire said as she led me
toward the stairs. Herald followed behind as we all went
up to the second floor.
The lights were lit in the hall, a good sign.
Everything was bright, especially the sunlight falling
through a small window. The rays fell short of the first
room on the left, but there was no need for extra light. By
the yellow hue shining under the door, the room had
plenty.
When Claire opened the door, a great amount of
heat came clambering out. My body immediately seized,
and I couldn’t move. I felt my veins twitch as my lungs
gasped for air, the core of my being dizzy and lightheaded.
This reaction was normal, and nothing could stop its
painful effects. But there was one good thing about feeling
as I did just then: The boy could be saved.
Brenda Stephens is a gothic and horror short fiction writer who’s influenced
by Edgar Allan Poe and Anne Rice. She holds an M.A. in English and
Creative Writing with a focus in Screenwriting and teaches college
composition at two universities in Ohio.
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