Chapter 4 - Dr. Streak

Unnamed Village - Dawn

Simon laid the girl down on a simple bed made of straw he found in one of the few remaining houses. Several villagers were currently crowding around the home’s entrance, quietly muttering among themselves.

During their brief trip, none of the villagers had been willing to meet his piercing gaze. Not that it really bothered him much, since it allowed him to make good time.

They all seem to share the same twitching wolf-like furred ears and tail found on the girl, save for the color. None of them possessed the same fiery-red crimson hue as the girl had, however. Were her parents already killed, or perhaps a repressive gene? I’ll need to ask the elder later, somehow.

Simon sighed quietly as to not wake the girl, carefully closing the thin wooden door. A single board across two metal hooks served as the lock. Not the most secure way to bar a door, but it’s better than nothing, I guess. He thought to himself as his gaze swept around the house’s sparsely furnished interior. No signs of running water. Waste management seemed to be done via chamber pot.

“At least they don’t throw their shit out onto the street,” Simon whispered to himself as he continued his observation. A set of fragile-looking chairs, along with a small dining table covered in a large stained linen tablecloth, took up most of the room’s open space. A large bucket filled with clear-looking rainwater sat atop the cloth lined table, the occasional drop of water still falling into it. Leaky ceiling I see.

Simon shrugged his shoulders before taking the nearly filled bucket of water and walked over to a small wooden table pressed against the far wall. Atop it sat a small shiny object, perhaps a mirror of sorts, sitting beside a pocket sized blade. Its once proud lacquered wooden handle was dried out and cracked in several places, while the bottom part appeared to have already broken off.

The blade itself fared little better. Traces of rust ran across its surface. Despite someone’s best attempts to scrub the annoying oxidation away, it had remained. The edge, however, was sharp. Although sections of it were chipped or otherwise unusable, the rest of the blade still held an acceptable edge. Soon. He thought happily. Soon.

Simon grabbed a nearby piece of hanging cloth and quietly dipped it into the bucket beside him, before wiping off his face and staring down into the clear water below, observing his face for what seems like the first time in years.

His once midnight black hair now contained several streaks of gray mixed in with black. His tired eyes still display an aura of defiance despite all the horrors they have seen, mocking those who had tried to break him.

Moving downwards, his once neatly trimmed beard now reaches nearly down to his navel. Soon, he muttered to himself, patches of mud still stubbornly clung to various spots across the beard’s length.

Simon closed his eyes before retrieving the dirtied cloth and wringing it out. First, his arms, then his legs, and eventually the rest of his body was freed from the mud’s sticky confines. By the time he was satisfied with his level of cleanliness, the once clear water had turned into a thick, bubbling mass of brown sludge.

“Apologies,” Simon mutters softly to himself while looking at the bucket before opening, gripping the small knife. Several minutes pass as long strands of hair continue to rain down onto the ground like a furry avalanche of darkness.

Satisfied with his appearance, Simon returns the blade to its rightful place before giving the mirror one last look. His once scraggly beard has returned to its proper appearance along with his hair, now cut down to prevent it from obstructing his vision.

A thin frown spread across his face as he looked at the mass of hair still dangling behind his head. Simon had decided that trying to properly cut the awkwardly placed mass would have been more trouble than it was worth. Instead, opting to tear a strip from a rag and using it to bind the mass into a ponytail.

Now then. He thought while glancing over to the still unconscious girl.

Simon picked up a smaller bucket of water and a handful of cleanish-looking rags before approaching the girl and kneeling. The old soldier’s hands nimbly peeled off the girl’s wet clothes before gently using several of the rags to wipe down her small body.

Various cuts and bruises ran across the sleeping girl’s lightly tanned skin. Some were fresh, like the wound covering her ribs, while others appeared older, partially healed or already scarred over.

His large, calloused hands gently caressed the girl’s wounds before briefly pausing between the girl’s legs. He muttered a small prayer to whatever gods would still bother to listen to a heretical monster like him before one of his fingers pressed into the small mound. His hand quickly retracted as a relieved sigh escaped his lips. Thank you.

Simon leaned back slightly and observed the girl’s breathing. Her small chest continued to rise and fall evenly; however, something still concerns him. The girl was sweating while her pulse raced. Simon placed a hand against the girl’s forehead before shaking his head.

She’s burning up.

His free hand reached out towards the large bruise across her stomach, gently tracing his fingers across the girl’s unfortunately well-defined ribs, and quickly re-examined her wounds. Simon’s hazel eyes narrow as his finger pushes past where a rib should be.

Widespread bruising ran across her chest while it seemed to have cracked or broken off from the bandit’s strike. Further down several of the girl’s toes pointed out at an awkward angle, no doubt having broken from desperate resistance. She’s got heart, Simon thought with a smile.

Aside from a hand shaped bruise across the girls, the broken toes, and possibly broken ribs, the rest of the girl’s wounds seemed to be minor. Just common cuts and bruises, obviously in need of cleaning.

Simon closed his eyes for a moment and mentally sent his onboard systems a command, [ Röntgen Level: 1 ]

ERROR: System Power Levels: [CRITICAL] >

< SYSTEM: Sleep-Mode [ACTIVE] >

A quiet sigh escapes Simon’s lips at the sight of the error message. Right, both reactors are gone, and I’m literally starving. Thankfully, ocular systems don’t draw much power.

[ Administrative Override - Ocular Subsystems: [CRITICAL] ]

Simon’s eyes suddenly darken as several letters danced across his vision, displaying various subsystem messages, most which ended in either [ERROR] or [NULL]. Despite expecting this result, it was still a lot to take in. Simon lightly pressed against his temples to soothe his aching mind and issued a second command.

[ Disable all Ocular Subsystems in non-zero states. ]

WARNING: 217 Subsystems Disabled. 26 Subsystems Remaining.>

Light swiftly returns to Simon’s eyes as relief washed over him, leaning against the wall and breathing in deeply. You never quite get used to that, he thinks to himself before glancing down. [ Röntgen Level: 1. ]

His eyes emit a brief flash of light as an image of the girl’s internal organs appeared in front of him. Damn. Simon’s gaze focused on the highlighted section flashing red surrounding the left side of the girl’s abdomen. One broken rib, a punctured spleen, and hairline fractures across the remaining ribs. He quietly stood up slowly to avoid waking the sleeping girl and quickly left the house.

Some villagers notice his emergence from the building, quickly turning away. However, instead of turning away completely like before, several villagers continued to make quick glances at him when they thought he wasn’t looking.

[ Scan: Alcohol. 90% or greater. ]

< SYSTEM: Command Received. >

WARNING: Olfactory Enhancement System [OFFLINE]. Add to override state? Y / N >

{Y}

Simon breathed in deeply before several depicting smells appeared around him. Above each of them was a single number depicting the assumed alcoholic percentage. Most of them displayed [90+] in white, while some of them displayed slightly lower percentages, such as 85. A few results were even depicted as red, showing a suitable alcoholic content but also trace amounts of toxins present within the mixture.

He followed online for a few moments, disregarding the confused look some villagers gave him, before he arrived next to a man leaning against a half-burnt railing.

The smell of alcohol was strong on him, the odor practically seeping into the wood surrounding him. A casual scan revealed the man to have a blood alcohol content exceeding 0.6%. A warning message appeared in his vision stating that the man required immediate medical attention for severe alcohol poisoning, but he dismissed with a shrug before taking an unopened flask.

The man appeared heavily intoxicated, but aside from that seemed alright. Perhaps their species has a higher alcohol tolerance than humans? He thought to himself before dismissing the notion after seeing several disapproving glances thrown the man’s way. Probably just the town drunk with a high tolerance.

He leaves the drunken man behind, ignoring his slurred cries, and continues walking down the village’s primary thoroughfare. Out of the corner of his eye, a small piece of sharpened metal sits embedded in one of the many nearby barrels. Most likely a fragment from a sword or dagger. He quickly frees the blade from the barrel’s side and observes the edge closely. The section embedded in the barrel had rolled over slightly, but the rest of the blade was still more than sharp enough for his intended use case.

With impromptu disinfectant and scalpel in hand, Simon turns back in the direction he came from. Now I just need something to stitch the wound close with, Simon thought to himself as he glanced into an open home.

Inside, several elderly women sat around a large table, casually chatting among themselves while patching clothes. One woman noticed his presence and alerted the others before he entered and offered them a brief bow.

With a soft gesture, he presents his hand towards one of the shaking women, causing her cheeks to blush slightly before Simon’s fingers gently retrieve the needle from the now stunned woman’s hands. Two of the women appear confused, while a third looks on in amusement at the elderly woman in front of him.

Within, needle in hand, Simon quickly exited the building and headed back down the street in the direction he had come.

Outside the house where he had left the girl, the village Elder could be seen standing beside a small group of men shaking like leaves as he approached. The Elder held out a hand to stop his advance with a sigh.

She doesn’t have time for this. Without replying, Simon pushes his way through the group of men while dragging the Elder into the small house.

“Look,” Simon said sternly, pointing towards the small girl’s bruised stomach.

The Elder’s gaze remains focused on the man before him, causing him to grip the Elders’ head and forcibly turning it towards the girl’s stomach.

Simon grabs the Elder’s hand with his own and traces it across the girl’s broken rib.

“Water,” He points towards the now-empty bucket of water before handing it to the conflicted Elder.

The Elder quietly nods his head to confirm understanding before quietly exiting the house.

Several minutes later, a woman appeared in the doorway holding a full bucket of water along with several thin strips of cloth. She sat the items down on a large table and attempted to leave before Simon’s hand grabbed her arm softly.

A quiet squeak escapes her lips as the terrified woman turns around, wide-eyed. Her expression relaxes slightly as she notices Simon pointing towards the bedridden girl.

He releases her hand and makes exaggerated motions, depicting holding down the girl’s arms and legs, before pointing toward the group of men standing around outside.

With a tearful nod, the woman leaves the building. Several muffled voices came from the other side. The discussion ended quickly, ceasing right before four men entered the house.

Simon gestured once more to the woman, showing he needed three more buckets of water. With a single nod, the women left the house once again.

Simon quickly began washing his hands in one of the provided buckets of water, gesturing towards the others to do the same. The men stood around, sending confused glances his way before Simon eventually sighed and began making exaggerated motions to get his point across.

Thankfully, after a few moments, one of them has an epiphany. About time, Simon thinks to himself, before the man instructs the other three around him.

Simon waits for the men to finish before opening up the flask and rubbing a handful across his hands and arms. He then passes the flask over to the man who had figured out his intentions first. Silently hoping it would take as long this time.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as the man repeated the process, despite the obvious confusion on his face. One man muttered something that seemed like a protest, but thankfully a brief glance from Simon quickly caused the man to comply, and soon he, too, repeated the process.

As the men finished cleaning themselves, the woman from earlier arrived and swiftly placed the requested water by the table. Simon gestured for the woman to wash her hands as well, under the instruction of the four other men in the room.

With basic preparations complete, Simon sighed loudly before soaking one of the clean-looking rags in alcohol and tightly twisting it up before tying it into a large knot and handing it to the woman. He then points at the girl’s jaw and pretends to bite down on the cloth in the woman’s hands.

Simon retrieves the improvised scalpel and cuts a small section of the girl’s long hair before rigorously scrubbing it repeatedly in water. He then takes the damp strands and drowns them in alcohol before braiding several of them together, creating a suitable suture made from the girl’s sanitized hair.

He lets out a soft sigh while sanitizing the improved scalpel and needle.

“Hold her down,” Simon said, before remembering that the surrounding people did not know what he was saying. Instead, he motioned for the men to restrain the girl. The men quickly grabbed the girl’s limbs as he moved into position.

[ Röntgen Level: 1 - Toggle ]

His eyes continuously glowed as he observed the girl’s internal organs. With a free hand, Simon gestured for the woman to place the cloth in the girl’s mouth.

Simon slowly raised the knife and punctured the girl’s skin. The small girl’s bright scarlet eyes open wide in agony as she lets out a banshee-like shriek, kicking her legs wildly while trying to free her arms.

“Hold her down!” He shouts, causing the men’s grip to tighten as the knife cuts a small incision across the girl’s battered side. Blood rushes from the wound as the blade continues to dig in deeper, cutting through muscle before reaching bone.

With an almost practiced motion, two of his fingers spread open the incision site, despite the girls shrieking. The man holding her legs nearly passes out at the sight, snapping as a leg kicks him across the chest.

Outside the house, several villagers are swarming about while pressing their heads against the thin wall.

“There you are,” Simon mutters softly while using his free hand to gently pull out the broken piece of rib. “At least it was a clean puncture, no signs of any tearing,” He says in a calm voice as his bloodied hand deftly threads the sanitized needle with the girl’s hair.

With precision, Simon slowly stitches the puncture wound closed before turning his attention to the cut muscle above. The task proves simple enough, as the cut tissue is quickly bound together, followed closely behind by the skin above. By the time he finished the process, the screaming girl had long since passed out from the sudden onslaught of pain.

Simon lightly wipes away the girl’s spilled blood before soaking some cleanest-looking rags with liquor. He pressed them firmly against the closed incision site, causing the girl to stir slightly.

One man, the same one who caught on to the hand washing first, releases the girl’s leg and retrieves a long strip and hands it to him. The remaining men gently lift the girl up while Simon finishes binding the wound.

Then the men slowly lower the girl back down before Simon finally stands up with a smile, releasing the breath that he had been holding during the procedure. No matter how many times I do this, it never gets easier operating on children. He thought to himself before taking a large swig from the flask.

He offers the flask to the man beside him with a smile. The man’s pale expression softened slightly as he took a sip. The metal container continues to make its round around the group before finally stopping at the woman, who swiftly gulps down the remaining contents, much to everyone’s surprise.

With a soft gaze, Simon bends down, retrieving the blanket, and gently tucks the crimson-haired girl in.

With a satisfied nod at a job well done, Simon grabs the broken piece of rib from the floor and quietly leaves the building with the room’s other occupants in tow.

“This would have killed her,” Simon said, speaking clearly towards the large group of villagers outside the house, holding up the broken piece of rib for all to see.

The Elder once again appeared before him, babbling in the same incomprehensible language while gesturing towards the house. Shaking his head, Simon replied while forcing himself to avoid rolling his eyes.

“I do not know what the fuck you are saying.” He replied while gesturing towards his ears and shaking his head side to side.

The Elder let out a tired sigh while hanging his head dejectedly before pointing at Simon, more specifically towards his crotch. Simon’s eyebrow tilted up slightly before following the Elder’s gaze.

“Ah.”