Disclaimer:
The following story contains explicit content and is intended for mature audiences and open-minded people only. Reader discretion is advised.
This work of fiction includes themes of sexuality, romance, and adult situations and is not meant to be taken seriously. In fact some of my works may require you to suspend belief. It may contain scenes of explicit language, graphic depictions of sexual acts, situations of cheating and polyamory, group minglings, and other content suitable only for those over the legal age of consent in their jurisdiction.
All characters depicted in this story are consenting or willing adults and are works of fiction. Any resemblance to any real persons, living or dead, or both, is purely coincidental.
By continuing to read this story, you acknowledge that you are of legal age to access adult content in your area and that you understand the nature of the content provided and have an open mind for such things. The author assumes no responsibility for any actions taken by readers as a result of the content of this story. Further, the author accepts no responsibility if you are offended by what you have read.
If you are not comfortable with or legally allowed to access explicit adult content, please discontinue reading now.
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Amanda sat next to the bed, which she had been doing for several days. She had never been in a place so clean and so bright as the hospital room she sat in now, but she was getting used to it. Even at night, the room never got very dark. The small nightlight and the constant glow of the machines monitoring Martin were enough to keep the room in a subdued light.
She was even getting used to the constant hums, beeps, and chimes she heard throughout the room and the corridor beyond the door.
"When I was little," She had told Tiffany earlier when they had both been together in the room, "A doctor would come to see us, but we never went to a place like this."
Tiffany had told her things would be fine, and the doctors thought that whatever was wrong with Martin had to do with what she had called a "Chemical imbalance" and exhaustion. But what worried everyone was that he had not woken up in almost a week.
The morning she had found him on the floor, he could barely move, and when he did, it was to go to the bathroom, where he had proceeded to get very sick.
She had helped him to bed; in fact, she almost had to carry him, and he fell right asleep. But that evening, when she and Tiffany had tried to wake him up, he would not. He was completely non-responsive and barely breathing.
Tiffany had explained that she had used the phone to call something called '9-1-1', but Amanda did not understand that. Shortly after, a man and woman in uniform came and worked on him, said something about his heart, and took him away.
Amanda thought about this for a minute, but she knew that Madam would never have intentionally done anything to hurt Martin, so she brushed aside the idea that she had done this purposefully since he had completed his agreement with her.
She was reading a book she had borrowed from the library in the hospital called 'Salem's Lot' by an author she had never heard of. She found it hard to put down, but it had the downside of making her jump every time someone opened the door, which she did now as the nurse came in for her regular rounds.
"Hiya Amanda, how is our guy doing here?" The nurse asked in a practiced, cheery tone.
She looked at Martin, smiled, and said, "Still the same, he mumbles now and then, but has not awoken."
The nurse smiled, "Some times these things just need a little time to work themselves out, sweetie. The doctor said that the brain looks good and all the vitals are getting better." As she said that she took his blood pressure and temperature, then looked at the tubes going into his arms.
"You think he can hear us?" Amanda asked, returning her gaze to the pale figure lying on the bed.
"Oh, honey, I am sure of it." The nurse bubbled, "He just needs to keep hearing from you, sweetie, and that'll bring him home."
As the nurse left, she asked Amanda, "Honey, do you need anything?"
Thinking about it, Amanda asked, "Could I get a cup of hot tea?"
Smiling, the nurse said, "Sure thing, I will have the cafeteria bring one up."
"Thank you."
As the door closed, she gently took Martin's hand. It was cold, but she could still feel the life force within him.
Still holding his hand, she returned to her book and waited.
Martin walked through the emptiness, unsure where he was or how long he had been here. He found it amusing, in a dark way, that it reminded him of a show he had watched for a while called 'Stranger Things.'
He could see that he was surrounded by a grey-green landscape with small eddies of mist that seemed to disappear as he walked through them.
"Hello?" Martin called out, but his voice did not seem to carry; it sounded and felt flat, like something was absorbing the sound.
As he walked, he saw a shape up ahead. As Martin got closer, he could see that it was a door. The only problem was that it was a door standing by itself; it did not appear to be a part of any building, and there was nothing to show what it was a door to or where it went.
He felt tired and dizzy, and all he wanted to do was lie down and take a nap or sleep, but something was pulling him to the door.
Reaching out, he touched the knob and it shocked him. The pain seemed to shoot through his entire body as it knocked him down.
He lay on the ground, holding his chest in pain.
"Martin, get up, you are not done yet." Came a voice from somewhere, but the pain was too great for him to do anything about it as his vision began to tighten into a single, focused point, then blackness.
Amanda stood in the corner of the room, scared by what she saw before her. Martin had started shaking, and the machine had begun beeping strangely and quickly. Moments later, several people had come in and started working on him.
"Wha...What's happening?" She asked, too scared by everything she saw to even think about crying.
One of the nurses looked at her and said, "Mrs. Simms, you need to stay back, we are doing what we can."
The nurse calling her Mrs. Simms shocked her at first, but then she remembered that the only way the hospital would let her stay in his room and by his side was if they told them that she was his wife. Something about that comforted her as she watched them work on Martin.
As she watched, they gave him a shot and put something in the little bag that hung next to his bed, then, after several minutes, everyone calmed down and stood, watching him.
Taking a chance, Amanda asked, "Is he doing better?"
The lead nurse, a sturdy black woman with a nametag that said 'Sonia', walked over to her and smiled, "It looks like he had some kind of seizure, but the medicine we gave him seems to have it under control." Then she patted Amanda's shoulder and asked, "Would you like to go down to the cafe with me? Take a break?"
Shaking her head, Amanda said, "No, I need to be here with him, but I thank you for the offer."
"OK, but we are going to go ahead and leave this door open now, in case something else happens."
Amanda nodded her head as the woman smiled and left. Then she returned to the chair and retook Martin's hand.
It still felt so cold, and she thought she could feel him shaking ever so slightly.
Martin slowly stood back up, shaken. His chest hurt, but he reached for the doorknob again, opened the door, and entered.
He was back in The Chambers House, but it looked different. It looked like it must have been before the accident, before the girls died. It was beautiful.
