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29 July 2014 @ 02:07 pm
No Longer One Chapter 7  


George drove his motorcycle in silence through the dark night. He carried Leeanix’s limp form and was alone with his thoughts. He had just spoken with Dr. Bartram and was on his way to see him. Dr. Roland Bartram. George smiled a little. He was one of the few humans he could trust. He remembered a few years back when a hit he had been sent on had gone very wrong. Turned out it was a set up and his target was also a hunter that had been waiting for him. George was always paid in full before he did a job and seemed these men wanted him gone no matter the cost. They were willing to pay him just to get rid of him. He got himself backed into a trap. It was an intense gun fight with several other men apart from his main target. He was pinned down in the back of a building. But George managed to escape and kill his original target on top of all that. But not without paying the price. He had been shot twice and was wounded. Any other man would have gone down but George kept fighting and escaped. But he was very badly off. It was always a bad thing to get so hurt in human form and ever since his capture back in the late 1800’s he really feared changing form while wounded. It only made things worse as it transferred and sometimes magnified his injuries to his other forms. He never wanted to go through the agony he went through over a century ago. To heal as a human he knew he would have to go against his nature and look for help. Not only that but he’d have to reveal the truth about himself. Or partially.

It was a cool Fall evening. The sun had already set and it seemed like night time. George found a small private doctor’s clinic on a little dusty road way from the cities and suburbs. This would be a test for both him and the doctor. A doctor Bartram according to the sign. There weren’t too many cars around luckily and George went inside, bandana over his face and all.
“Alright everyone except the doctor OUT!” George roared as he pointed his gun to the sides of him. Most people quickly stood and left. One man protested.
“This isn’t happening. You can’t do this!” he said. George aimed right at his head.
“It’s happening. Now LEAVE or end up worse than you came in and no doctor will be able to help you then.” George said as he stepped closer looking down at the puny man that had dared stand up to him. One more word and he would shoot but luckily it didn’t come to that. Everyone at last vacated and he let himself into the back room. He found Dr. Roland Bartram standing uneasy by his table. He had brown hair parted to one side; a bit messy and slightly spiked in the back. He was about George’s age. Late 30’s or early 40’s. His eyes were brown and he had an average build.

George’s guns were visible. But he walked in slowly and holstered them. Then he pulled the bandana away from his face.
“I know you’re honor bound by a code to help anyone that walks in that door.” George began. “If that means anything to you you will keep to it and help me.” George said as he held his right side. Bartram was amazed just by the size of him, and that he was dressed in period clothing was a bit hard to take in at first too.
“What do you want?” Bartram asked.
“Hum.” George said pleased this was going well. “I want you to fix me up, but keep it off the records. Just you and I. I don’t want any questions about how I was hurt, who I am or what I do. Just fix it.” He paused. There was silence. “I can make it worth your while.” George said as he pulled out two gold coins and set them on a shelf. “But that ain’t all. I’m a bit of a special case. See I ain’t entirely human. So I hope you know some exotic veterinary medicine as well.” This was so much for Bartram to take he had to sit down on his stool.
“How can you not be human?” He asked. George pulled the glove off of his right hand so that his plates were visible. He then pulled back his duster, put his hand on his wound and held his yellow bloody hand out to Bartram. Instantly he was fascinated.
“Yellow blood? And your hand. What else is different about you?” The doctor asked.
“That’s all I know in this form.” George said.
“This form?” Bartram said looking up in disbelief. “What are you? How many forms do you have?”
“I’m a centipede, plant, man. This really hurts. So will you help me?” George asked. Bartram felt he didn’t have a choice. He knew too much and to say No to this tall man would likely be a very bad idea.
“Yes. I can help you, Mister…”
“Smith. George Smith. And glad to hear it. Oh one more thing. I may drop in unexpectedly. I want no one here when I do.”
Bartram blinked when he heard that.
“If it’s unexpected how will I know to prepare for you?”
George realized what he had said.
“Well I will find some way to let you know.”
“A phone call would be nice. And no more chasing off my other patients please!” Bartram said. “Now you’re bleeding all over my floor let’s do something about that. Looks like you got shot.” He said. George nodded affirmatively. “Well the greatest scientific discovery of the century walks into my clinic and I can’t tell anyone.” Bartram said annoyed.
“Sorry Doc. But it will make you feel good you’re doing something no one else has done. Seeing something few have.”

The doctor did patch him up and he had taken care of him the few other times George had gotten hurt in his line of duty. George had told him what he was and about his two other forms, though he had not shown either to him. Since he was basically human in that form, Bartram was able to treat George and help him heal faster than he would have on his own. Human medicine seemed to work on him despite the different composition of his blood. The doc kept his word and helped him any time he became hurt. and in time the two became friends

He arrived at the clinic faster than he anticipated. Thinking of the past seemed to make the present go faster. George Smith parked his motorcycle next to the small building, lifted Leeanix in his arms and made for the door. He kicked it open and entered.
“Doctor please help.” George said in desperation. The clinic was empty just as he liked it when he arrived. Dr. Bartram came into the waiting room and stopped in the doorway when he saw the giant man holding a small girl passed out in his arms. She had antennas trailing from her head and a centipede tail just poking out of the duster she was wrapped in. “She’s all I got. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” Dr. Bartram had never seen George in such a frenzied state. Though he’d come in before bleeding and with pieces missing he was always that tough strong silent type. Now his eyes were glossed over and filled with anxiety.
“Bring her to the back room and place her on the table.” He said. George did so then removed his duster from her. Bartram stared in amazement for a while, but his doctoring instincts kicked in and he began a basic exam of taking her pulse and blood pressure.
“Is this one of those other stages you mentioned?” He asked.
“Not for her. She only has one stage. This one.” George said.
“What happened to her.” Asked Dr. Bartram as he did a few more standard tests like listen to her heart with his stethoscope.
“She was kidnapped and beat by some bad people.” George said with venom in his voice. “I’m lucky I found her. Look what they did to her tail. Two of her legs are gone and she was bleeding pretty badly because of it.”
Roland Bartram went for a medical kit. He properly disinfected the wounds George had shown then began to wrap her tail to stop the bleeding.
“How many more of your kind are there?” Bartram asked as he looked up.
“Just us.” George said.
“Are you really her father?” He asked. George frowned. He wished he were.
“No. I found her and adopted her. I have been searching for another like me for…let’s just say centuries. She was a naive helpless child when I found her. Just come into being. So I took her in.”
“I see. Well her blood pressure is very low. She’s going to need a transfusion. You’re the only donor. I do not know if your blood is compatible with hers. Or if there are even blood types for your…uh species.”
George pulled back his sleeve.
“Take all you need. However much she needs. I have plenty.” George said.
“I need just a small sample first. I need to see if there are different types in your species. Otherwise if you give her yours and you are different you’ll be poisoning her.” George looked horrified by that idea. “Don’t worry it won’t take long. I’ll just run these under the microscope.” The doctor took a sample from George and left for his small lab. George pulled up a chair and sat next to Leeanix. He took her right hand in his.
“Hang in there. I know yer strong. You’ll make it. You gotta.”

Bartram soon returned.
“What did you find?” George asked.
“Well, the composition of your blood is very unusual. I am not sure what to make of it. But comparing both your samples it seems virtually identical. I think you being her donor would be a safe thing.” Bartram explained.
“Then let’s do it!” George said eager to help. Bartram got the transfer tube and tapped into George’s arm. He then attached it to Leeanix’s. He monitored her pressure as the transfusion proceeded. Once she had received enough he removed it from both of them and put pressure on their arms with a swab.
“That’s all for now. She just needs rest and to let her body recover on her own. How do you heal when you are in this stage?” He asked George.
“I have never lost any legs in this stage. When I’m really bad I find a place that’s secluded where I will not be bothered for days. I take my true form and then I molt. It’s a slow recovery but I will be completely restored once it’s done. But I have never molted in hybrid stage. I don’t know if we can.” George said worried.
“Hum, well all insects and other arthropods molt regardless if they grow or not. They have to when their shells wear out. So perhaps it is a matter of time to just wait.
“Do you think she will be alright?” George asked. The doctor nodded.
“I think so. I have a feeling.” He told George.
“Well I’m counting on you, doc. I have to go take care of some business.” George said as he put his duster back on, and began to walk towards the door. “I shouldn’t be gone long. Please take care of my Leeanix. Don’t mind what you might hear on the news either. Remember your promise to me when we first me.” George said as he quickly slipped out.



Sorry for no formatting this time. Short but important chapter. This is where I have stopped and am writing the next chapter still.
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actipton80actipton80 on July 29th, 2014 07:08 pm (UTC)
I'm surprised that more people weren't ticked to be run out of the doctor's office. That's the one thing that I don't like about George is that he seems to expect people to just give him what he wants right then and goes about it in a rude ugly way.
Des: George Grinsthagirion on July 29th, 2014 09:41 pm (UTC)
In the flashback or in "real time"? George is an evil outlaw. He gets what he wants by force. If there's opposition he takes it out. He used to be a leader too and disobedience was met with brutal and sometimes deadly punishment for his underlings. This causes no one to question him. He's not here to make friends. Humans are beneath him. They're food in more ways than one. Why should he care about rude or ugly? He has the power and he is above them despite his lost position. He had guns in the flashback. More people would fear and run than stand up to him. If he told me to leave I'd be running. At the same time those qualities you don't like I admire his power. Wish I were that commanding. It's better to be feared than loved. He lives by this.

Edited at 2014-07-29 09:42 pm (UTC)
kabuldurkabuldur on July 30th, 2014 09:39 am (UTC)
I really enjoyed this part of the story, too!
Desthagirion on July 30th, 2014 12:04 pm (UTC)
Thanks. I'm glad you enjoyed it.