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Passion - Chapter Two *On Hold*

 
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LordoftheNight
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PostPosted: Tue Apr 11, 2006 3:26 pm    Post subject: Passion - Chapter Two *On Hold* Reply with quote

Ok, then here we have the brand-spanking new chapter of the story none of you have read yet.*

It was a lot of fun to write, and really quite confusing as well. The random changes in him, me and you are done on purpose, don't worry.

*Well, ok - maybe the first bit you have.
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Last edited by LordoftheNight on Tue Apr 25, 2006 3:42 pm; edited 5 times in total
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PostPosted: Tue Apr 11, 2006 3:26 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Chapter One

Gunfire, the crackle of shells propelled through the air. The impact of bullets slamming into flesh and carapace. The detonation of the explosive shells. The horror of war. Bodies littered the ground, their features torn and mangled.

“Sarge. Sarge!” One man turns, the band around his left arm identifying his rank. Dirty uniforms, dirty men. The rifle clenched in his hands worn, the magazine nearly empty.

“Report.” The private delivers his message, but the words are lost on the wind, lost in the noise of battle. Coming closer he yells again. Yells from three feet away, but still you cannot understand his words. Then he disappears, blood exploding outwards from the shell of what was once a man. Ichor and blood mingle, covering the officer, drenching him once again. The rain continues to fall heavily, soaking everyone to the skin.

In a panic the man turns, his arm raised. He is yelling, the soldiers around him jumping to obey his orders, but still you can’t understand. He may as well not be speaking, the only thing telling you he is being the movement of his chin from behind, the instinctive gut feeling you have when you know something important is going on, but nobody has told you it’s your turn to take notes.

Then you see them. The aliens, the Arachnids. The Bugs. Swarming towards your position in a great tide, the black horde unstoppable, unrelentless. Uncaring. Fire opens up from along your lines, yellow rounds speeding towards the horde even as they grow closer and closer. It is not enough. It is never enough, not in the hundred times you have lived this moment. Not in that hundred times that will follow.

The Bugs reach you lines, and havoc follows. To either side of you, men are being thrown into the air, limbs torn from their bodies. Blood mixes with water, the mud beneath you feet turning red. Men you should know, faces you recognize but can’t place. Then you see it. Looming up in the distance, a dark shape silhouetted against the skyline. Its eight titanic legs stretching as tall as skyscrapers. The gaping maw looms, the sacs running down its neck pulsating, faster, faster. Without warning the sacs are expunged, the toxin pushed into the mouth, and outwards. The bright green acid cascaded down over the trenches, burning through any clothes, flesh and bone with ease. Burning straight through the armour the government gave to protect us.

Then the lasers sing out. Great beams of light cutting their way through the air to strike into the Bug. From behind I can see giant walkers approaching us, heated beams targeted on the creature, ignoring the Bugs clambering their way up through the trenches. Focusing their fire, the rays strike into its legs, instantly cauterizing the wounds even as they opened up. Roaring in pain, it lunges forwards, the talon on its leg cutting straight through the armoured shell of the lead machine. Its torso sliced in two, the construction stumbles to the ground, squashing thousands of Bugs as it does.

Bellowing in triumph, the creature again lets loose a hail of acid, impacting on the shells of the walkers, who armour resists the toxin. The soldiers still in the ground below are not so lucky, once more caught in the deadly rain. Hundreds die. In this battle of the titans, the ordinary soldiers matter not at all.

The screams of the dying suddenly cut through the barrier I had unwittingly erected, focusing on the Gods of War, rather than what lay in front of me. Distracted, the Bugs had drawn close, all around, everywhere. Jaws flash before my eyes and....


Light flashed before his eyes, and the man known only John Doe sat up, gasping for breath. A nurse hurried to his side, frail hands trying in vain to hold him down. He felt the needle slide into his arm, and after a few moments he lay still. Before long, a man – Dr. Crane – walks into the white walled room, a clipboard under his arm. His grey beard was frayed, roughly cut, as if hacked away by a madman.

That thought make you laugh. A madman, as if there really was such a thing. The doctor motions one of the nurses aside, and whispers something into her ear. You think you can make out the words any progress and the nurse shakes her head. Crane approaches your bed, a pleasant smile fixed onto his face.

“Well John, how are you today?” Happy faces, acting as if they care. They don’t, no-one ever cares – they’re just doing their job. Of course, he doesn’t say that, just shrugs and answers affirmatively.

“Good to hear. Nancy here tells me you had another dream. The same one again?” So – this is there game is it, trying to find out about the dream. The one they don’t believe even exists. But it does. Every night it exists – even if no-one else can see it. But of course, he doesn’t say that, just nods his head mutely.

“And you still have no idea why? You still don’t understand why you dream? Even when sedated you still experience it?” Of course he has no idea, they’re the doctors – they’re the professionals. He’s just the guy found wandering the street, the guy with no memory or identification. The guy they call John. Me. You. Him. Just one person, all alone, always together. The face in the mirror that you don’t recognise, before you remember you don’t recognise anything at all. Or can you. You still have the dream – they don’t seem to be able to prevent that. The same dream. The war. Wait, he’s talking to you again. Better listen, better try to pay attention. Better look like it at least.

“We think we might know what is wrong with you John. Isn’t that good?” Another mute shrug – what is good and what is bad when you’re lost in a body you don’t remember? “We’re having a specialist in – a Dr. Frank Payne. He specialises in…diseases of the mind.” A specialist? Another specialist? The last one – Dr. Richards? – had never left the hospital. They had found him weeks later in a stock cupboard, and the gun still clenched in his cold hands. Supposedly they never could get that ceiling clean again. And security was still questioning just how he had got a weapon into the building. Let alone why he would off himself in the first place.

“Dr. Payne seems especially interested in your condition. He requested to spent time with you particularly. He’s from America – have you ever been to America John?” Because of course, that’s so likely to get him an answer in…from your condition, asking a man given a name other than his own, whether he’s been to a country though the total of his memories consist of two months sat in a hospital, and one day wandering the streets of London beforehand.

“So unless you have any objections, I’ll book an appointment. You don’t mind do you?” What objection could I have to Payne over Crane? Payne and Crane – they sound the same. A smile cracks across his – no, across your lips, a small giggle of childish laughter escaping. Could they be related. Of course not – Payne and Crane aren’t related – they can’t be. Too much time cooped up. Too much sleep. Must get out more. Must…must…

Not many of you left now. A mere ten men of the squadron, all that have survived. The Bugs swept past you, swept through you. You know this – remember this point of the dream. You’ve had it before. The two sections, constantly repeating, back and forth – back and forth. Right and left. No – that doesn’t work, just back and forwards, like some kind of train.

You know it’s a dream, but you don’t know how. You remember what happens next, even though you can’t remember anything at all. That makes no sense – it hasn’t happened yet. Or has it. You don’t know – maybe you should see the doctor – Dr. Payne. The shocks you, unrealistic in its sole opinion. Opinions – you don’t have opinions when in this place. You never do.


Dr. Crane peering into your eyes, his opti-wand shining light through them. Opti-wand. You’re proud of that name – you thought of it yourself. Or did you – was it just a memory? Not sure. Can’t move. Doctor is speaking. Must listen again.

“Ahh, yes. I think he’s coming to. John? John – are you back with us?” A single nod. “Well then, unless you have any objections, I will make arrangements. I’ll give you a day or two to reach a decision. Alright?” Before you even have time to acknowledge him, the sedatives take effect, his face swimming before yours, and merging with the walls.

The flash grenade detonates, blinding you momentarily. But the Bugs are blinded too. All around you the sound of detonations sound out, the small squadron opening fire on the creatures. Attacking from above, ambushing the convoy with both demolitions and massed firepower has kept you alive the last few days. Even as they begin to bound up the walls, your sight comes back, just as you knew it would. The helmets screen swiftly adapt to the changes in light and heat levels, modifying the retinal read-outs to account for better, more efficient combat readiness. As survivors of the Eighth Battle of Gratus Prime, the battle known as the Titanus Maximus among the men, the squad is one of the most experienced the 45th expedition has to offer.

Not that that is saying much. One battle does not veterans make. Now, lost behind enemy lines, cut off from the Planetary Invasion Force, the remains of Seven-Seven Platoon have nothing left to offer. Nothing but their lives. This is the third convoy of Bugs to be attacked in this manner. You only know this because of the read-out on the screen in front of you. But you already know it will be the last.

You already know when the Mole claws its way up through the solid cliff, you already know when it burrows out into the midst of your men. You already know what will happen when it erupts directly underneath Command, and you have already heard their cries of terror time and time again as they fall into the nigh on bottomless pit that makes up its mouth.

But that doesn’t mean you can do anything about it. Helpless to watch as the blood fountains into the air. Firing at the creature in panic, the explosive rounds of your gun penetrating deep into it, yet seemingly causing it little pain. Turning to run, to get away from the unstoppable beast, along with the survivors of Seven-Seven Platoon.

Sarge hasn’t stopped fighting. Calling the squadron to him, we retreat slowly, edging away from the onrushing horde, picking our targets as they come close to us. Most leave us along, heading instead for weaker targets. Weaker prey.


Your eyes snap open once more, the sheets drenched with sweat. Coughing – a coppery tang in your mouth. Blood. You’ve bitten your tongue again. Even as a nurse hurries towards you, the sound of your awaking disturbing her from her book, you make up your mind about Dr. Payne.
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Punishment leads to Fear. Fear leads to Obedience. Obedience leads to Freedom. Therefore, Punishment leads to Freedom.
Ave Dominus Nox


A Fronte Praecipitium a Tergo Lupi
Blood Bowl
Scraping the Barrel
A Tale of Four Swords
Passion


Last edited by LordoftheNight on Thu Apr 13, 2006 4:52 am; edited 2 times in total
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PostPosted: Tue Apr 11, 2006 3:39 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Interesting story lordy! I like the idea you have going here, how he keeps falling asleep and dreaming about what happens.

A few errors I caught.


lordofthenight wrote:
He’s just the guy found wondering the street, the guy with no memory or identification.


Should be wandering.

lordofthenight wrote:
You know it’s a dream, but you don’t known how.


Should be know.

lordofthenight wrote:
You’ve bitten you tongue again.


Should be your.

Great story! I really enjoyed it. I think he should go with Dr. Payne. He could be a better doctor than Crane. Maybe Payne was once in a condition that John has been in, and that's why they're sending him in, and maybe he will actually pay attention. Look forward to the next chapter!
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PostPosted: Tue Apr 11, 2006 3:55 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Cheers rlz, and I stopped and changed one other one as well.
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A Tale of Four Swords
Passion
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PostPosted: Tue Apr 11, 2006 6:49 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Very nice start Lordy.

I think why not the doctor? Can't make it worse can it? Can it?? Shocked
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PostPosted: Tue Apr 11, 2006 9:54 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Good start Lordy. Smile

I'm getting a Star-ship troopers vibe, but a more serious version of it. Regardless, I'm enjoying it. You're telling the story well.

Quote:
Why think we might know what is wrong with you John. Isn’t that good?”


I'm interested to know why the last 'specialist' killed himself - surely not simply from speaking to us or the consultant would be much more wary of us and he seems genuinely sincere.

Try this new doctor out, as Chinaren said, it can't make things worse for us.

Happy Writing Smile
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PostPosted: Wed Apr 12, 2006 2:45 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Yeah, an interesting start Lordy. Very Happy

And you stole all my corrections guys! Wink

I agree with the others, he should at least give this new doctor a go. Though 'Payne' is a little ominous... Surprised

*holds breath* Shocked
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PostPosted: Wed Apr 12, 2006 3:22 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Ooh, mysterious. So did this war happen or not? That is the question... Confused Smile

Well, might as well co-operate with this Payne guy. He may just help, and it's not like you have much of a choice really.
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PostPosted: Wed Apr 12, 2006 3:40 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Quote:
Though 'Payne' is a little ominous..


Oh yes. Didn't pick up on that. I have been sitting infront of the computer too long today. Confused
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PostPosted: Thu Apr 13, 2006 4:54 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Every story needs a little Payne.
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Passion
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PostPosted: Fri Apr 14, 2006 8:14 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Great first chapter Lordy. Great atmospherics and you seem to have got right into the character straight away. I'm enjoying it Very Happy

Like everyone else though, I think he should see the new specialist. So another one goes gun-crazy and dies - what is that to you? He might just be able to help Smile
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PostPosted: Fri Apr 14, 2006 4:16 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Good start... good imagery... can't see why not to Payne, not sure why he's even given the option if he's that screwed up in the head but alright...
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PostPosted: Fri Apr 14, 2006 4:25 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

What do you know - a poll is up.

And I bunged in a few ideas of my own, just because I only recieved one suggestion.
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PostPosted: Fri Apr 14, 2006 4:35 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

I went for unconditional... If I was mr Doe, I would be doubting my own sanity and looking for their help as much as possible.
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PostPosted: Fri Apr 14, 2006 8:18 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Nice story Lordy. I added my vote to the poll.
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PostPosted: Sat Apr 15, 2006 1:40 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Voted.
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PostPosted: Sat Apr 15, 2006 3:40 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Hmm, looks pretty convincing to me.
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PostPosted: Sun Apr 16, 2006 5:30 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

What looks convincing? The fact that 6 of us voted for seeing Dr. Payne unconditionally, and that you're going to write that next chapter?
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PostPosted: Sun Apr 16, 2006 6:49 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Yeah, that'd be the one.
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PostPosted: Sun Apr 16, 2006 7:29 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Just was making sure I hadn't missed anything that wasn't there.
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PostPosted: Sat Apr 22, 2006 6:00 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Well, originally I was going to write up the next chapter of Four Swords, but I left my notes behind. So instead I decided to give you Passions, as felt in a Skiffyville mood.

Enjoy.
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PostPosted: Sat Apr 22, 2006 6:01 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Chapter Two

Once again the walkers open fire, sending great beams of light through the skies towards the titanic Arachnid on the horizon. Roaring in pain, it lashes out again – for the first time – cutting through the body of the walker just as you knew it would. As the two halves fall to the ground, crushing bugs and men alike, their agonies unnoticed amongst the greater threats of war. As the bugs swarm up the trenches once more, tearing men apart in mere seconds, the troops begin to break before their onslaught. Fleeing in terror, waves of men rush over the open ground, and through the second line of trenches. The bugs clambering after them, up onto the open ground, and heading for the second line as well. Just as the High Command expected.

As the second line of defence open fire, as you have seen them do thousands of times before, bugs begin to pitch into the ground, carapace and ichor sent flying into the air by the explosive rounds. As usual you open fire also, the fusillade pouring towards the multi-limbed creatures, even as they come closer and closer to the lines. Without warning, a thunderous explosion rings out, shocking you into consciousness.


When you awake a strange man is peering over you, pale skinned and bald, a small white stubble across his chin. Perched on his nose is a pair of spectacles, gold framed and circular. His beady eyes shine through however, one eye green while the right eye is a pale twinkling blue. His wiry frame is clad in a pearly white doctor’s robe, one which is scarce fitting and strangely clean.

“Ah, the patient awakes. Welcome back John. As I’m sure you have guessed by now, I am Doctor Payne.” The doctor’s voice is quick, almost as if he was thinking faster than he could even mouth the words. It makes him sound like an idiot, you inwardly smile “I specialise in certain diseases of the mind, and the tests run so far seem to confirm you may indeed be subject to at least one of these, if not more.” Without waiting for an answer plunges on, not even giving you a chance to respond.

“I would like to run a few tests on you – if that is agreeable with you of course. The hospital has already run blood tests, but there is something else I would like to try, injecting some of your blood with a special chemical and simulating the effects of giving it to you in a large dosage.” While you wait for your confused mind to work out just what it is he is saying, and then nod your consent, Dr. Payne has already given you a sharp jab with a needle.

The three-inch syringe jutting from your arm makes you feel faint, but before you can mouth a word of complaint, Dr. Payne removes the needle – now full of blood, making you wonder if you had dozed off unknowingly – and does something to it you don’t quite catch. Blinking slightly, you look around in bemusement, the syringe now gone.

“Right then, I’ll just send this down to my specialist labs, and get some tests run. It shouldn’t take long John, so you’ll have the results in just a few days. So I’ll see you again then right?” Then, once again without giving you a chance to react, he picks up a small black bag on the floor, and quickly walks outside.

The dreams come again, Seven-Seven Platoon trapped atop of the canyon, beset on all sides after the failed ambush. Separated from High Command, the remainder of the PIF on the other side of the Bugs lines there is nothing you can do but try and survive. Sarge understands that, but Private Johnson does not. Ewan thinks it’s all about being a hero, about winning glory and honour. Ewan Johnson is the only member of the squadron who dies atop the canyon.

Running towards the Mole, the unstoppable monster, is either the sign of a brave man, or an idiot. Unfortunately, Ewan falls into the later category. He doesn’t even have a frag grenade primed when one giant limb crushes him flat, his bones powdering under the sheer weight of the clawed extremity.

Sarge doesn’t spare him a backwards glance. He’s like that – once you’re dead, you’re gone; there is no mourning, no coming back. He leads us away, down from the canyon and northwards, deeper into Bug territory. There is no where else to go.”


A hand roughly shakes him away, your neck snapping upwards in the sudden shock. A nurse mops blood from his…from your forehead – how you managed to bite your forehead was a question you don’t want to answer. Until you realise that there is no coppery tang. No taste of blood.

“Dr. Payne is here to see you John, so I’ve just got get you cleaned up. Just stay calm alright? He’s a good man.” A knock at the door startles you, and you look up to see that your room has changed. This new one is completely plain, no decoration lines the walls and there is not even a window. Seeing you looking around, the nurse whispers into your ear. “You’ve been out for two days now, Dr. Crane was getting worried. We had to move you into a different ward, something about daylight. You were thrashing about as if in pain whenever the sunlight touched you.” Standing up, and throwing the bloody cloth into the sink she walks to the door and pulls it open.

Dr. Crane and Dr. Payne walk in, animatedly discussing something. Seeing you awake they stop dead however, and Dr. Crane beckons the nurse close. Words are exchanged, the words difficult to hear. Blood…sweating…thrash… are all that you can pick out. Dr. Payne walks up to the bed, and picks your limp right arm, turning it over and checking the pulse. His face grim, he turns to face the others.

“His condition is deteriorating; I think the treatment is the only chance.” Nurse Joy – her name you only know because of her name badge – looks confused, but Dr. Crane nods his head slowly, almost regretfully. Not sure if you even want to know the answer, you ask anyways.

“The tests have come back, and I am at least 80% certain that you have a condition known as Veneficus Prudentia Mens Incompositus. It is extremely rare, only one per hundred generations will develop the disease on average. You are the only one in living memory. However your condition is not that dissimilar from Tendo Mens Incompositus, of Prudentia Mens Incompositus.” While you digest that information, he takes out a chart from his case and studies it.

“I am afraid that isn’t all. In addition to having this disorder, your case is in the later stages of the disease, we cannot possibly cure it the traditional way. What I would suggest is still an experimental treatment, but it has had a lot of success so far.”

You stare blankly into Dr. Payne’s pale skinned face, and blink your eyes rapidly. That lunatic doctor wants to carry out experimental practises on you? Wants to pump you full of drugs? What if it goes wrong or something – what then? Be stuck like this forever?

“I must warn you however, if you do not go through with the treatment, I suspect you will die. The chances of you surviving without treatment are less than those of winning the lottery in my professional opinion.”

Explosive rounds shoot through the air, spiralling forwards to penetrate into the advancing Bugs carapace, before detonating inside them, spewing ichor in all directions.

“Easy now – easy.” Dr. Payne removes another needle from your arm, the yellow liquid inside half gone. “You must have gone into shock from the news. You were thrashing about as if you were experiencing a fit. Was it the same dream as always?” At your dumb nod he sighs. “I feared as much. I will leave you now – try to think about your decision – we do not have long. The stimm injection will keep you awake for at least a few hours – try to make a decision in that time.”

At least two hours have passed before Dr. Payne returns. It’s difficult for you to tell with the lack of any available time-piece, or even the sun to watch. The first question he asks is of course whether you have come to a decision. In silence, you consider the problem it poses. You could be stuck like this forever, with crazed episodes and mad fits. Fits which, you remind your tired brain, are beginning to get worse. Or you could risk death in an experimental operation. Before doing anything though, you decide to get more information on just what the procedure is. Dr. Payne is hesitant to describe it properly, undoubtedly knowing the proper technique terms would merely confuse you more, while trying to decide how to explain it in simple terms.

“Really it is a whole bunch of different operations,” He begins at last. “It uses minor surgery, a drugs concoction, a restricted diet and slight hypnosis. But I still believe it is your only chance.”

Once more your brain whirls, but the stimm still in your system prevents you from falling asleep. A full blown operation and a whole lot of different procedures to follow it. It may be your best chance to survive, but it sounds risky even in itself. Still your best bet probably is too…
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Last edited by LordoftheNight on Sun Apr 23, 2006 8:39 am; edited 1 time in total
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PostPosted: Sat Apr 22, 2006 6:42 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Nice chapter Lordy, you have some good imagary in. *Thinks of IFY*.

I say nothing has changed really from last chapter, though I think I would want a second opinion on this before I dived into all that medical stuff.
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PostPosted: Sat Apr 22, 2006 6:44 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Yeah, I realised that when I was writing it, but at least it gives people a chance to back out should they wish.
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PostPosted: Sat Apr 22, 2006 11:46 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

It certainly sounds rather vampirish to me. Not that that's a bad thing, even if it's true. I'm looking forward to seeing how the tale progresses.

I'd say go for it. We have nothing else but death to look forward to. The treatment might work and make us better. How much better is up to the author, of course Wink
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PostPosted: Sun Apr 23, 2006 12:16 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

A couple of niggles:

Quote:
paled skinned and bald


This should just be pale.

Quote:
you inwardly smile


This doesn't sound right. It is better off as you smile inwardly, though that still doesn't sound that good. Somthing else would work better.

Quote:
You stare blankly into Dr. Payne’s paled skinned face


Again, this should be just pale, and also it is a little repetetive.

I think he might as well accept the offer of treatment. Though that name is still a little ominous...

*holds breath* Shocked
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PostPosted: Sun Apr 23, 2006 8:38 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

the reason it's you inwardly smile is trying to represent how his mind doesn't work properly anymore - which you may well have realised by now.
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PostPosted: Sun Apr 23, 2006 4:18 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

F5 Shady. Take the dare with the new treatment.
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PostPosted: Mon Apr 24, 2006 4:21 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

You can say what you want Lordy, it isn't proper english. Wink
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PostPosted: Mon Apr 24, 2006 4:53 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Well, at least you understood what he was saying, Soily. It took me awhile to make heads or tails of it. Very Happy
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PostPosted: Mon Apr 24, 2006 9:28 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Good chapter Lordy - I enjoyed it Smile

I agree - despite what's going on, even we've realised it's getting worse. There's no reason why we should doubt we're dying.

Go for the operations.

Happy Writing Smile
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PostPosted: Tue Apr 25, 2006 3:43 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Woo - what do you know, the poll has suddenly appeared, clawing it's way through the ground like some sort of Giant Mole Bug.

Shoot it down!
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PostPosted: Wed Apr 26, 2006 1:09 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Went for running away. With a name like Dr. Payne, I wouldn't stick around and wait for him to sodomise me. With a four-foot syringe. In the eye. Surprised
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PostPosted: Thu Apr 27, 2006 4:02 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Wait... the bugs, the scenes... its too vivid... it HAS to be real, a memory... a memory... of course... he's been unconscious and is being slowly eaten alive by the bugs, thats what all the pinpricks he's experiencing is all about! It's their venom that has him halucinating the doctors and all that... ESCAPE! The world will eventually become real again if he runs away!
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PostPosted: Fri Apr 28, 2006 4:43 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Voted.
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What should John do with this new information?
He's dying - accepting the operation is really his only chance?
50%
 50%  [ 5 ]
He can't be dying- he's got far too much to live for. The docter must be mistaken, so refuse the operation?
0%
 0%  [ 0 ]
Keep delaying the operation while the tries to make his mind up - you never know, he might even recover?
10%
 10%  [ 1 ]
Get out of the hospital now - they must be posioning you to keep you sick. Run away?
20%
 20%  [ 2 ]
(Author only option, please do not vote here?)
20%
 20%  [ 2 ]
Total Votes : 10
Who Voted: Chinaren, LordoftheNight, Lordy, Ravenwing, Shady Stoat, Smee, Solomon Birch

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