Chapter 6: Bitterness

As Whiteghost was talking to Bloody in the hospital room, there came a loud bang in the hall as Bloody’s parents charged through the door, followed by an orderly and a very distressed-looking nurse.

“Sir, you can’t come in here right now, we’re about to close!” she tried to plead with them, but to no avail.

Bloody’s father ran past the startled boys and opened the ER room, seeing Bloody and Whiteghost talking and holding hands. A look of fury spread across his already reddened face, and he glowered at the two of them. 

“Emily, I leave you for one day, ONE DAY, and you disobey me on purpose!!! What do I have to do, keep you locked up in the basement? What a ignorant daughter I’ve raised!”

Then turning to Whiteghost, he continued. “And you,” he said menacingly, pointing a finger at him “you almost killed my daughter you arrogant careless @ss. Get out of here before I call in my henchman to take care of you and your friends.” 

Scared out of his wits, Whiteghost complied, running straight out of the room. Bloody’s mother, helpless to do anything, stood still as her husband walked closer to his daughter’s bed. 

“You know what parents would do in the old days when rebellious daughters like you acted up? Well, obviously you don’t. You’re too narcissistic to care about anyone else, so don’t bother trying to learn anything,” he said, looking down at her as if she were a sewer rat he’d just found in her house. “Well I’ll tell you wait they did. They gave them a good old beating, but since I can’t do that here…I’ll teach you some other way.” He took her wrist in his massive palm and squeezed hard. 
Bloody screamed, but in the confined room, no one heard her, and no one saw her. He squeezed so hard that her wrist bone almost broke, and then he let go. He gave her one last look, then walk out of the room. She lay there, stunned and unmoving, not knowing what to do. She expected someone to come in, but then she saw the lights in the hallway dim, and she knew that had all left. All alone. 

______________________

When Chillo left the hospital, he was in a foul mood. First Bloody’s accident and now her damnable father. He looked at his watch, 1:00 AM. 

“Great” he said to himself “I’ll be snoozing like a bear tomorrow morning.” 
After his friends had all gone their respective ways, he turned around and walked briskly back to the hospital. ‘Screw him [father], I’m going back to Bloody.”


That night, Bloody lay in bed, alone and sorrowful. She had no one to talk to, no one to share her feelings, no one to see her cry. For sixteen years, she had lived a normal life (if you call being rich and powerful normal). True, boys had tried to go out with her before, but she had always pretended not to notice them, for they were snotty and arrogant, and she felt they were all beneath her. But now, she had found Chillo, the magical one, the one meant for her. And she had become quite fond of Whiteghost too, whom she felt was cuter than Chillo. What was she going to do next, she thought to herself, fall in love with RAIN? Thoughts tumbled, twirled, and twisted around inside her head, making her feel dizzy and confused. 

A scrapping sound at the door to her room made her tense. She held her breath. ‘What that a nighttime orderly? Or-‘

“Psst!” a dark figure approached her. 

She was about to scream when a hand gently clamped over her mouth.

“Hey, it’s only me…” the figure said softly. He flicked on the lights.

“Whiteghost?” 

“I didn’t leave the hospital when it closed,” Whiteghost said with a grin, “and I suppose none of my pals noticed..hehe.”

Bloody smiled through her bandages. “So what have you come here for?”

“To ask you something,” he said, smiling nervously. “I know I’ve only known you for two days, and I’m sorry that today didn’t go very well, but, well…well…when you’re well again, can…can I ask you out to dinner?”

Bloody was completely taken aback. He had risked getting into trouble just to ask her this? Was it worth it, or was it just another conceited fellow trying to take a beautiful girl out on a date? She thought about this for nearly a minute, then consented. He had saved her life, and it was the least she could do to return the favor.

Whiteghost smiled again, feeling all warm inside. He bent down and kissed Bloody’s hand. 

For the next half an hour, they chatted. Whiteghost told Bloody some awful and pathetic jokes, but she just listened and laughed appropriately, and then told Whiteghost her own jokes, which were much better, and Whiteghost guffawed like an idiot. Then they talked about politics, and Bloody confessed how she had always wanted to become a communist and travel to Russia and have a conversation in Russian with the prime minister. At this, Whiteghost rolled on the floor laughing and guffawed so loudly that Bloody was afraid he’d wake up the dead in the basement morgue. He did not notice in all his euphoria how close he stood to Bloody’s IV line, and as he doubled over laughing, he knocked over the bottle. Bloody screamed as the glass shattered, spraying saline solution all over her.


Chillo emerged wearily from the seventh floor landing and walked down the long, dark hall. He was wearing his orderly’s uniform and the heavy, black baton bumped painfully against his leg with each step he took. Had he not carried a baton, it would have seemed suspicious since all nighttime orderlies were supposed to double as security guards. At least with the lights on at half power, the other orderlies would not be able to easily see his nametag.

Chillo turned the corner at the end of the hall and stopped short. Less than ten feet away was Bloody’s room, and he saw to his horror that light was streaming out the bottom of the door. Then he heard a peel of laughter and a scream, and all his body tensed. Thousands of images of Bloody raced through his mind as he imagined all the terrible things that could be happening to his love at this very moment. Maybe it was Vlad the Vampire, the notorious ex-doctor and murderer who had a reputation for sneaking into hospitals late at night and poisoning young, female patients. ‘How many had he killed so far? 35, 40, 50?’ He couldn’t remember. And as he drew his baton, he realized he didn’t care. All he wanted was to save Bloody. He approached the door and kicked it in with a karate yell, charging into the room. In one glance, he caught sight of the broken IV bottle, Bloody’s look of horror, and the man on the ground. Without hesitation, Chillo raised his baton and brought it down. 

Whiteghost, who had been a black belt in karate, kung fu, jijutsu, judo, aikido, and tae kwan do since he was seven, reacted on instinct. Before even Chillo had time to think, Whiteghost reached for the IV stand, and using it like a spear, stabbed Chillo in the leg. Chillo yelled and fell backwards, his baton flying upwards and shattering the florescent light fixture. The room plunged into pitch darkness. Bloody screamed again. In desperation, Chillo struck out at the darkness, punching the air, hoping he would accidentally hit the intruder. Whiteghost, however, had no need for light. He sensed Chillo’s presence at kicked at that spot. Chillo went sailing backwards, knocking over Bloody’s bed and sending her crashing into the wall. Whiteghost leapt forward and sensed a presence on the floor. Thinking it was the intruder, he threw him against the glass window, and heard a feminine scream. ‘Oops, he thought…wrong person’

Just then five orderlies carrying Glock automatics rushed into the room. Light flooded in from the hallways. 

“What going on here!!” demanded the lead orderly as his mates aimed their weapons at the three people.”

“What the…Chillo?” Whiteghost was stunned.

“Whi…Whiteghost?” Chillo was equally incredulous.