Crossing Over (Part 1)

Reaching into my now blood stained white coat, I pulled out my vibrating phone. Another alert from the hospital. I sunk my teeth one final time into its soft skin draining what remained of its blood. Pulling away I dropped its limp body to the ground. As I wove through the trees, I could hear the sounds of the city echoing in the distance. The stillness in the woods is one that can never be found in the city streets yet, the chaos in the city meant there was always something to do. I returned to my car and pulled out another white lab coat clipping my ID card on the top pocket.
Blake Stone, MD.
Chief Neurosurgeon
Most doctors hated being called in late, but I truly enjoyed the rush of a late night surgery after a day of hunting. I pulled out of the dark alley entering the busy streets of Manhattan. Pulling up to my parking spot I jumped out of the car and rushed into the hospital. I was greeted by a series of “Hello”s and silent nods of respect.
“Blake, how are you always so awake?” My friend Chris Jones greeted me with a cheerful smile.
“For me to know and for you to find out,” I replied with a chuckle. If only he knew that I never slept. That on my days off I spent them hunting and enjoying the darkness of life. Some would consider it a depressing life, but it’s the life of a vampire. My life.
“Your patient is being set up in Operating Room 1. Ruth Caldwell, female, 32. She came into the emergency room after being pulled out of a rollover car accident. She is suffering from a brain hemorrhage from the impact.”
“Thank you.” With a wave good bye I rushed up the stairs to the surgery floor. My domain. Entering the operating room, I was hit with a wave of sounds. Nurses hustling to set everything in place. Beeping machines attached to the woman lying on the table. I focused my energy onto the patient. Her heart beat. Her slow breathing.
Slowly approaching her body, I placed a soft hand on her forehead. Blood rushing through her brain. Down her body. To her steadily beating heart. Past her lungs. Down her arms to her fingertips. Down her legs. Past her knees. To the bottom of her feet. Stepping back I began the surgery.

? ? ? ? ? ? 4 Hours Later ? ? ? ? ? ?

I scrubbed the last of her scent off my hands. Another dead. Another I couldn’t save. Why was the world like this? How could any “greater power” allow so many pointless deaths? I couldn’t let my brain run wild with these thoughts because then I would start questioning the life I live; the reason I was a vampire. Pushing the thoughts out of my mind, I left the operating room.
This was the part I hated the most. Telling the impatiently waiting friends and family that they had just lost their loved one. That I couldn’t save her. And their lives were about to come crashing down around them. What I didn’t know at the time was my life would come crashing down too. That the world around me would never be the same. That everything I once believed in was a lie.

July, 1878
“Did you read the paper today?” I asked my cooking wife behind me. I sat at the kitchen table with a mug of freshly brewed coffee and the latest copy of “The People” open in my arms.
“I did not. Tell me, what’s going on in the world today.” My wife replied walking to the kitchen table with her own cup of coffee in hand.
“Harrison is going around campaigning again.”
“Really? Why? He’s not going to be able to persuade enough voters here in Connecticut to win our electoral vote.”
With a laugh I replied, “Well of course he won’t. Cleveland has our votes.”
“I heard that the Union Labor Party National Convention assembled in Cincinnati, Ohio the other day.”
“I’m not surprised.” Taking a quick glance at my pocket watch, I put down my cup and stood to get my hat. “I best be getting on my way now. I should be home early today for dinner.”
“Wonderful. Have a good day!”
I left the house closing the door behind me. Stepping out in the hot humid air of a July, I thought of how perfect the world was. Nothing could go wrong. But it did.

August, 1878
“You’re going to be just fine.” The patient's face lit up with relief and the sound of the good news. “Your surgery couldn’t have gone smoother. In two short months you’ll be able to go right back to running around with the other boys.”
“Thank you so much doctor.” Tears started streaming down the mother’s face. “Thank you.” She sat on the bed next to her son who had, simply put, survived the accident by luck.
“Lucas, the nurse is going to giver your mother some pills and you have to promise me you will take them everyday.” He replied with a small nod and with that I left the room.
Crash!
The pile of files on the nurse’s station fell to the ground followed by the nurses themselves. The world around me shook violently. Chaos was released upon the hospital. The ground below me cracking in places. Patients, family, doctors, and nurses sprinting to find safety; whatever safety was. With a loud crack, the ceiling came crumbling down on me and I felt myself fade to darkness.
A light hung from the ceiling, cracked and unlit. Pushing myself up on my elbows I stood to my feet. My head throbbed uncontrollably. The ruble around me was a blur. Stumbling forward I fell to my knees. Sitting there, I knew I should be thinking about escaping or finding help, but I could only focus on the hunger. A consuming hunger that could not leave my mind. It surpassed, the pain in my shoulder. The ringing in my ears and the cry for… help? Using all my remaining energy to focus, for just a moment I was able to suppress the hunger and heard a strained cry for help. I’ve walked these halls enough times to know it came from the maternity wing that was just ahead of me. Rising to my feet once again, I moved toward the voice. The glass remains of once was a sliding glass door lay shattered greeting my as I entered what was left of the room.
“Hey! Anybody in here!” My voice came out raspy and tired. Like all the energy left in my body was put into speaking those words.
“Blake…” The voice died away but not before I saw a foot sticking out from under a pile of broken cement and shattered glass. How she knew my name would have to be  question for when I could see her. Right now I needed to get her out. Scanning my surrounding area, I saw the top of a shiny metal clipboard. Perfect! Maneuvering around the the broken glass, I pulled it out reading the name on top.
Annabelle Stone
1 Month pregnant
My wife.