Out of Body
#6 of Stories in Shorts
I looked through the glass window, seeing an anthro wolf lying in a hospital bed, unconscious. He looked at peace and breathing, but the gashes and wounds on his body told a different story. The male's black furred face looked as if someone attempted to rip it off. A deep gash on his muzzle slowly oozed dark red blood, along with his nose completely torn off, half his right ear hanging limp, and his left eye covered in blood.
His neck wasn't any better off, nor was his arms and legs. A canyon-like laceration on the anthro's left arm stretched from his shoulder down to his paw, the wound being covered by a blood-soaked bandage. His right arm bent unnaturally, his right paw being split down the middle. His legs appeared to have way worse wounds, but I couldn't really see them due to the dark red liquid that covered them.
A nurse, who wore purple hospital scrubs, walked through the large, sliding door to my right that led into the room. I closely followed behind the male, watching him approached the motionless body that laid on the hospital bed. A few more nurses walked in, including an anthro that wore a black business suit with a white undershirt.
The four nurses surrounded the wolf on the bed, changing the patient's bandages while injecting some sort of clear liquid into the IV that was in his left paw. The anthro in the business suit stood behind the male's head. "May the gods watch over this poor anthro as he undergoes this operation," the lioness spoke, looking over the motionless body, "may he pull through. If he doesn't, please grant him the passage into Paradise."
She then looked to the four nurses that stood on the bedsides, two on each side. Her eyes then rested on me, as if acknowledging my presence, then spoke to the rest of the nurses, "Get this male to the OR." The four nurses responded by disengaging the brake on the hospital bed, rolling the bed through me and out the room as the Chaplain, identified by the purple stripe on the collar of her business suit, followed them.
Before exiting the room, the female anthro stopped and looked directly at me, almost as if she could see me, "may Mister Juno's soul not become angry if we cannot save him. The team of surgeons will do the best they can to bring him back." The lioness exited the room, leaving me alone.
_ I need to see myself pull through!_ I left the room and took a right, running down the hallway to catch up to the nurses that were transporting my body. I walked alongside the bed as the nurses kept a brisk pace.
I looked over my unconscious body, the aftermath of me barely surviving a fatal car accident that resulted with my car flipping off a bridge and onto the busy freeway below. A drunk driver collided with me head on and I found myself, well, myself being pulled out of my totaled, sky blue sedan. It wasn't a beautiful sight, considering that a semi truck rammed into my overturned sedan after it flipped off the bridge with me in it. I was returning home from a play at my high school, which ironically took place in a hospital. Coincidence?
A pair of bloody, gray basketball shorts is the only article of clothing intact on my body, leaving me shirtless. The wounds on my chest were hideous; shards of glass literally peppered my entire chest, along with a large gash on my abdomen that bled like rolling molasses. I am still shocked that I was still breathing and very much alive, but my real self wasn't aware of it.
The nurse leading the bed took a right down another hallway and I followed them, all of us heading straight into a large room with small tanks, operating tools, almost anything related to surgery. I watched the four nurses leave the room, leaving me and my body alone in the bright room. I observed my body again.
Me? Why Me? I asked myself. The wounds and scars on my body looked life-threatening, but I couldn't really tell since I wasn't in my own body at the moment.
How am I still alive? was the other question that popped into my mind. I assumed it was by luck; not many anthros survive a car accident that's as fatal as mine. My appearance is hideous and gut wrenching; I could barely recognize my own body. Did I really deserve to survive that?
A group of four anthros, all wearing green scrubs, white surgical masks, clear protective goggles, and green surgical gloves, glide into the room, the last anthro in pushing an aluminum cart that had a blue tarp over it. I assumed these were the surgeons. "I would like to say a few words before we begin," the male anthro fox of the group spoke as they all walked to the left side of my body. I stood on the right side of my motionless, real body.
"My name is Nelson Reynolds," the male fox continued, "my team and I are performing life-saving surgery on Juno Silverclaw, a young sixteen year old orphan. All I have to say is that we will do our best to save this poor kid." He then looked to the female pit bull to the right of him, "administer the anesthesia."
After a few minutes of them setting up, two of the surgeons stood on the right side of the body, while Dr. Reynolds and the female pit bull stood on the left side. A mask was pulled over the muzzle of the motionless wolf on the table and slowly, the heart rate and breathing of the wolf slowed down. I watched the male fox take a deep breath as I stood on the far side of the operating room.