One Life Ends, Another Begins - Chapter One
One Life Ends, Another Begins... Chapter One - A Vet's Work Is Never Done © Cederwyn Whitefurr 26th January, 2012 All Rights Reserved
Ian sighed, turning to the anaesthetist, who hung hher head and began shutting down the oxygen tank and coiling the thin tubes. They had spent five long hours fighting to save the life of the German Shepherd, who now lay is repose on the cold table - alas, the damage had been too severe. Ian gently stroked the dogs forehead, closing the eyes and sighing sadly. It hurt to lose a patient; it always cut Ian deep, but he had tried - there was nothing anyone could have done, and now, come the terrible guilt that Ian felt, knowing how the family of this beloved pet, would grieve - and he steeled his resolve, before helping his assistant. It would not do, to for the family to see their beloved pet like it was, and Ian and his assistant quickly made the operating room more presentable, before Ian sighed and walked out, to give the family the terrible news....
*
As Ian filed away paperwork, the phone began buzzing with its strident and annoying noise, then without thinking, he reached out and picked up the phone, tucking it on one shoulder, leaning his head over to hold it in place, as he continued shuffling his papers. Frowning, he stopped his filing, then blinked and sighed quietly, listening to the voice on the other end of the phone - and he nodded; unaware he was even doing it - and the person on the other end of the phone, couldn't see the gesture.
"Yep...yep...uh huh..." Ian muttered, drawing a writing pad over with one hand, and clicking down his pen with the other, before hurriedly writing down the information. "Uh huh - grey kangaroo...uh huh...arrow through...through the..."
Ian winced, imagining how this, poor, defenceless kangaroo had been so cruelly shot with a hunting arrow, then his mind immediately turned to the myriad possible injuries it could have, and realising that it was probably going to be a wasted call out - but he was legally obligated to assist an animal in need...
"Uh huh...yep...got it - will be there in -" Ian looked at the clock, then made a rough estimation in his head. "Fifteen minutes - yes, yes...I got the directions...uh huh - try not to approach it, its hurt, frightened, and won't be like the kangaroo's you're probably used too, at the zoo. No, just - just stay away, you've done the right thing - I'll be there as soon as I can....goodbye."
Ian hung up the phone, then grabbed his keys off the desk and headed out the back door, notifying his staff to lock up after he'd gone - he had a call out, and wouldn't be back for a while....
*
Ian arrived in less than the estimated fifteen minutes, grabbing his bag from the front seat, then exiting the vehicle and retrieving a tranquilliser rifle from the rack in the back. Carrying the unloaded rifle, Ian approached the distraught owner of the house and was quickly led around the side where he could get a good view of the obviously hurt and stressed kangaroo. It hopped madly along the fence line; how the arrow which had pierced it didn't get caught, escaped Ian's mind, as he took a fast estimate of the distraught kangaroo's age - then loaded the sedative into the ampoule and loaded the rifle carefully. Taking aim, he breathed in and out until he was sure he was calm enough - then sighted and pulled the trigger.
With a hollow hiss of compressed air, the feathered dart was launched and struck the kangaroo on the rump. Ian lowered the rifle and waited patiently, as the kangaroo's hopping grew more and more erratic, before it finally stumbled and fell to the ground; the powerful sedative taking over and pulling the kangaroo into a dark, dreamless sleep. Once he was sure the kangaroo was sedated and no danger to itself, or to Ian, he moved carefully towards the kangaroo, and got a good, long look at it. Carefully, he lifted up a hind leg, realising it was a male, then checked for other physical signs of trauma. Other than the arrow through the abdomen, the barbs having cut through the fur, muscle and flesh, the blood soaking the fur, Ian shuddered in horror and felt a loathing for the sick bastard who had shot this young grey kangaroo - leaving it to die a slow, horrible death.
Taking the Kangaroo by the front paws, Ian dragged its limp body back to the van, then carefully strapped its paws, muzzle and hind legs with some thin but strong tape, just to be careful, and laid a blanket over it. He highly doubted the kangaroo would awaken, he'd given it a fair dose of sedative, but past experiences taught him to be thorough. He realised the wounds were severe, he wouldn't know for sure, exactly how severe, until he got the kangaroo back to the surgery, and had a chance to cut away the arrow and begin exploratory surgery...he just hoped the kangaroo would hang on. He was young, appearing, at a rough guess, to be three years old, in surprising good health, and as he laid a hand against the kangaroo's throat, the pulse was still strong. Maybe, just maybe - today he might finally win one....
*
"Okay fella, lets get a look at you - " Ian grunted, as he gently lifted the right hind leg of the kangaroo and carefully felt for any breaks. "Okay, leg is fine...better get some gloves on here..."
Ian turned away and pulled some latex gloves from a box, sliding their powdered interior over his fingers, flexing them. He was just about to turn back to his patient, when there was a sharp rattle of noise. The silvery tool tray and its contents scattered at his feet as a unsteady shadow rose over him. Ian gasped taking an unconscious step back away from the bewildered buck who should not have been awake. The sedative should have rendered the wild, confused buck unconscious for at least another two hours.
"No..." Ian gasped in shock, his eyes widening. "You...you should be..."
Somehow - the buck rose like some ghostly apparition, then wobbled uncertainly, before finding his balance, standing his full five foot eight inch frame and shook his head trying to clear the fog. He looked dazed and bewildered, his long ears flicking too and fro, eyes wild and frightened. Ian gasped involuntarily, and the frightened buck's head snapped about with terrifying speed, those dark eyes seeming to stare right through him.
"Hey...whoa big fella - " Ian moaned, then brought himself to full attention, as the Kangaroo's head tracked him. "Easy...I know you're hurt, its okay...nobody...nobody will hurt you any-more. Come on, easy...that's it...settle...settle...."
Ian took a half-step forward, and watched the terrified and hurt kangaroo intently, then dropped his gaze, knowing the buck would interpret direct eye-contact as a threat. With sly, cautious steps, Ian stepped closer to the nearby tray, out of the corner of his eye, he could see a syringe half full of what he hoped was a heavy sedative, but listened with everything he had, as the buck coughed and flinched, before clawing at the arrow through his abdomen. Taking the chance, Ian snatched up the syringe and pressed his momentary advantage grasping the buck's ears and tugging his head back - preparing to slam home the syringe, but things suddenly turned on the vet with terrifying speed.
It happened in a split second, or so it seemed to the startled Ian. Without warning, the Buck somehow just seemed to slip out of Ian's firm grasp - then Ian gasped in alarm, feeling the crushing grip of the buck, his paws locking onto the tight muscles of Ian's shoulders. Even as the humans mind tried to process the information it already had, the injured Kangaroo wasted no time, instinct seizing it - then everything become a senseless blur.
Ian didn't even have time to blink, as he seen the Buck's head flashing forwards - the hot breath of the frightened kangaroo wafting to his nostrils, before there came a searing - a burning at his throat, that surpassed anything in existence.
His knees turning to jelly, Ian clutched his throat, his face turning white as he felt the blood squeezing between his fingers, he felt the unmistakable warmth of hot blood as it trickled down his throat and began spreading in a growing crimson stain on his white shirt collar...
"Help..." Ian tried to cry out, but only a feeble gurgling cry come from his throat.
As he fell onto his side, the spent syringe falling from his slackening fingers, his last vision was of the Buck crumpled near him, its eyes wide in terror, as it fought the effects of the anaesthesia which began ravaging his body. He looked at Ian, and just as his frail hold on conciousness fled, Ian's last thought was of the expression on the Buck's face...a look of almost human-like grief and remorse...blood on his muzzle, before darkness swept over the Veterinarian....
*
Ian's consciousness slowly returned, finding himself surprisingly, back at home - laying in his own bed. Confused memories washed over him, as he tried to make sense of what had happened, then he sat up and instantly groaned - the pain of his injured throat sending electrifying waves of agony through his head, and he gingerly touched the thick padding and tight bandages that covered it. As his eyes blinked and adjusted to the dim light, he heard a rustle and he slowly turned his head to see his assistant sitting beside his bed. She smiled weakly at him, then lay a novel she had been reading down on the bed beside him - before carefully wetting a cloth and draping it over his forehead.
"Well boss," Cerise chuckled quietly. "You certainly know how to get yourself into trouble..."
Ian's eyes narrowed as he frowned and shook his head slowly, trying to clear it of the haze that had enveloped him.
"Hey...take it easy Ian," Cerise administered him gently, then made him lay back down. "You won't die - but what were you thinking? That buck could have killed you - if you hadn't already of guessed. Next time, pay attention to the dosages of anaesthetic, will you? A young buck like him...quite a pretty one too - "
"Cerise..." Ian rasped, then touched his bandaged throat again. "I...he should have stayed under...I don't know - what..."
"What happened? You proved you're just as human as the rest of us Ian," Cerise laughed quietly, then held a cup to Ian's lips, letting him take a sip of water. "You got the anaesthetic dosage wrong - a silly mistake, but I think you'll live. If he hadn't been already so groggy - he could have torn you open like a sardine can..."
"I...I know - " Ian rasped, slumping back onto the pillows. "I was sure he was under when - "
"Well - you'll be pleased to know, he survived the surgery - and is in a dark room, in recovery. He should be alright, in a week or two - animals have amazing ability to recover from trauma and - "
"How..." Ian looked about, then waved a weak hand.
"Oh, sorry - we found you and him both unconscious - it was very quickly apparent what had happened, so I called the Ambulance, and they took you to the hospital. Whilst you got a fairly nasty bite wound...the doctors cleaned it up and you don't need any stitches - but they gave you a tetanus shot, and some antibiotics, just in case you know - "
Cerise rattled the small bottle of tablets beside Ian's bed, then chuckled as he winced, for he despised taking tablets, and she knew it.
"They...they didn't kill the Buck - " Ian murmured.
"No, I made sure of that - the police were going to shoot him, poor thing, but I convinced them he wasn't a dangerous animal...well - he was just badly hurt and frightened, can't blame him for attacking - he probably felt threatened...."
Cerise smiled and kissed Ian's stubbly cheek, then petted his shoulder.
"Take a few days Boss - I can run the surgery until you're back on your feet - you'll be fine in no time, think of this as a story to tell your grandchildren!"
Ian groaned at Cerise' attempt at humour, and she just smiled innocently, then kissed his cheek again, before leaving and locking his front door. Ian shook his head slowly, feeling groggy and confused, then sighed, closed his eyes and went back to sleep.
*
Ian moaned and trembled, his body shining wetly with sweat, as he tossed and turned on his bed, his wet sheets clinging to his trembling form. A cool breeze wafted through the window, making the curtains whisper and hiss, as if speaking some ancient language, and the moonlight splashed across his bedroom floor, faintly illuminating his tortured body.
"No...please - please don't..." Ian moaned, his fever making him delirious, as he thrashed and twisted on his bed.
As the breeze caressed his cheek like a lovers embrace, his eyes snapped open and he arched his back, as a sudden agonising pain lanced through his body. His fists clenched, the fingernails biting into the palms of his hands, as he gasped and writhed. It felt like a billion ants were crawling beneath his skin - before there came a new wave of agony, causing him to cry out helplessly. He threw the sheets from his bed, and through his delirium, he stared down at his legs, that seemed to be...writhing....
No, writhing wasn't the right word, he screamed and clutched the bedsheets, as his feet twisted and muscles sense lancing agony throughout his body - then there was the soft snap of bones...pain mounted upon pain, as his feet seemed to be...changing, growing longer and narrower, his toes slowly morphing together, then this strange sensation crept up his shins - the bones cracking and snapping as they forcibly reconfigured themselves into some new shape.
Ian's eyes were wild with a new definition of pain - words could not describe the unendurable agony - as his hands began to crackle - the very bones twisting and shifting, and he snapped his hands up to his eyes, staring in disbelief as the backs of his hands suddenly sprouted a dark, almost black hair that spread like wildfire, his palms becoming hard and leathery, with a distinctive paw-pattern to them, his very fingers narrowing and cracking as the transformation seized him in a merciless grip. His fingers grew short and stubby, black nails forcing themselves from the tips of the fingers - as he started in horror at what his mind refused to accept....
Pain upon pain upon pain washed over him, his very skin feeling as if it was burning - before the first greyish-white hairs erupted from his calves, sweeping up his groin, belly and chest, ending at his throat. His ears twisted and writhed as they grew long and tubular, the fur sprouting from them a rich walnut brown. Breathlessly, Ian scratched at his skin, his new sharp claws drawling furrows through the fine fur that now covered much of his body, as he bucked and convulsed helplessly. His mind could not encompass what horrors was happening to him, and he slammed his new paws to his face, feeling his very bones begin to crackle and change - a prominent muzzle pushing itself through the restructuring bones....
"Oh god - no...no!" Ian shrieked, as he felt the transformation becoming swifter and more painful.
Some feeble spark of his humanity remained, cowering in his mind like a terrified and screaming child - lost and confused, not understanding what was happening to the body it had inhabited for nearly thirty years....
Ian gasped and threw himself from his bed, his newly shaped feet twisting painfully beneath him and driving him to the floor, where he crawled at the rug, crying helplessly - the tears sliding down his newly formed muzzle and dripping onto the carpet. He felt but could not see, the tail that lay behind him - thick, heavy and awkward. He continued screaming, his throat aching, as he clawed and scratched at the rug, helpless to stop himself...until something made him pause - and he heard his own voice...a voice that had changed pitch and timbre from a masculine voice...to a very feminine one...and with that shock, his fragile hold on reality finally snapped, and the mental shutters came down - driving him into darkness and blessed release from the pain....
*
Ian awoke some time later, his long eyelashes slowly sliding upwards and his eyes snapped here, there, everywhere, long slender ears whisked too and fro, every noise was an almost deafening cacophony - before he shivered, then looked down at his body...his mind falling away in shock, horror and outright disbelief - for where he had once been a normal human male...his body was now that of a young grey kangaroo...and as he gazed at his hands...now furred paws with black, leathery paw pads...he squeezed his eyes closed and shook his head violently.
"This is just a dream...just a dream...just..." His mind gibbered at him, bordering on catatonic shock.
"...just a dream?" Come a deep, masculine voice, from the darkness of his bedroom, near the door....
To Be Continued