Ruin (Rhodes #1) by Rina Kent

                             Faint digging starts at the back of my head, tame, scarcely recognisable, but if I focus on it, I’ll be dragged back to what I’ve fought so hard to annihilate. I take a deeper breath. Inhale. That’s not blood. That’s a patient. Exhale. You don’t get to kill him, Aaron. Inhale. You’re to act as a responsible resident and apply procedure. Nothing more. Exhale.

                             With a fresh breath in my lungs, detergent saturates my nostrils. Then comes the squeaking of the metallic cart, the shuffling of running feet, mine with them. The paramedics’ rushed report reaches my ears loud and clear. “Male. Early forties. Trauma to the chest. Sucking wound. First aids were applied. Pulse 80. Lost a lot of blood on site.”

                             I smile. Yes, I did it. I fought the enchantment of blood.

                             “Dr Rhodes?” Nurse Brea asks, her steady fingers squeezing the oxygen mask.

                             “Operation room three!” I shout. “Keep pumping the oxygen.”

                             The surgery goes well. I do well. I had to fight the compulsion to squeeze his heart out instead of reviving it only once. A considerable improvement compared to the times I fought the urge a hundred times during a surgery. I’m getting better. I no longer give in to the voices. Although I still hear them now and then, they’re distant, almost inaudible.

                             I remove the gloves and wash my hands. The image that greets me in the mirror is... me. Is this really me? Do I want to be a trauma surgeon? Probably yes. It’s definitely better than sitting in the office all day, taking care of business I don’t give a damn about. The excitement of the emergency room is much better. But I’m not doing this for people. It’s only myself that I’m concerned about. I refuse to let a trace of a voice dictate my life. I refuse to be repulsive, impulsive, and mindless. More than anything, I needed to regain the control I barely owned. To do that, the voices and the blood lust had to go. That’s why I picked up my residency where I left it off. Trauma cases are the only way I’ve found around my blood lust. The best solution to fight off blood is to exist around it every day.

                             Not that I haven’t tried other things. From psychotherapy to electroshocks. Although they helped with the voices, they didn’t with the urge to kill every human my eyes fell on. I also couldn’t stand psychotherapists. At one point or the other, they took Dr Linton’s image and I always ended up worse. On a rampage, I almost killed one of them with his own pen. Tristan had to interfere and clean my tracks.

                             Traditional methods lasted less than a month before I found myself here, in a faraway town in Australia, playing a saviour’s role. How ironic.

                             “Dr Rhodes.” The emergency room’s chief stands at the door, two mugs of coffee in hand. “Thought you would need this. You’ve been here for fourty-three hours.”

                             I accept it with a smile. “Thank you, Chief.”

                             He leans against the wall and crosses his ankles, looking at me with sharp wrinkled eyes.

                             When I take a sip, the clogged taste of coffee constricts my throat. The hospital cafeteria is abhorrent. I take another swig. I need caffeine no matter what’s the taste.

                             “You have to rest, Rhodes.” The chief’s white hair is hardly distinguishable from the walls. “It’s been only a year since you joined us and you’re already making everyone look bad with your dedication.”

                             It’s just that need this place, old man. I’m better not left to my thoughts. “I don’t need rest,” I say instead. “Being of help is more important.”

                             “My offer still stands. Once your residency is over in a month, I’d like to recruit you here.” He nods and turns to leave. “And your shift is over. That’s an order,” he says over his shoulders.