Such a victorious day it was when the Clinic opened. Tenebris himself had refurbished an abandoned, decrepit building. He spent months asking the humans if he could merely spot in a hospital for monsters in its place. After all, he had rebuilt it for free after humans destroyed his habitat and left him one of the last alive of his species.
With the promise of procreation so that his species may be hunted for their benefits again, he was granted permission and immediately set to work. Volunteer after volunteer piled in to help simply because there was no work available for monster’s and most were tired of sitting by and wasting away, but their help was graciously accepted as the humans’ breathed down Tenebris’ neck for their Golden Goose eggs.
The Hospital was built and opened in days, and even one of royalty named Asgore came to meet with the one donned Tenebris to congratulate him on his success of building the clinic. Little did anyone know of the humiliating, and terrible price he was paying for it, but nevertheless, he was ecstatic. This was his dream! It was worth the pain of Asexual reproduction to produce a few eggs for the imbecile Human congress. He would do anything for this! And he had! He’d built it from the ground up and he was saving lives!
For once, his life wasn’t a complete nightmare.
He was happy! He left behind his destroyed villages in Australia, settling now in what is known as the United Kingdom. He forgave the humans for what they’d done. He agreed to their terms. His children that were destined to be killed, skinned alive for their tough leather-like scales, their horns and spikes, teeth, claws, and to be milked of their venom, his own children sat in incubation waiting to be picked up. To be picked up, hatched, raised in captivity, in terrible conditions, and then murdered. It twisted his stomach.
Those were his children. This went against every instinct he knew.
And yet, he was still trying to be happy. He tried to shove it away. He wanted to be happy because finally, for once, they had something that was theirs. A hospital, where he could save lives.
He walked through the halls, ready to meet the monster of royalty outside. He inserted a roll of film into his camera as his tail swept gently side to side, low to the polished tile until suddenly, balance was lost.
He careened and crashed head-down to the floor, losing all vision. But abruptly, everyone who’d been around him started screaming.
As he looked up and blinked the darkness away, he realized he was suddenly anthropoid. And as his gaze lifted further, orange glows and breaths of hot air swept over him.
He kept low to the ground as he pushed himself to his knees, using the edge of his lab coat to block the smoke and ashes from his lungs. It didn’t seem to be enough as he crawled, hands suddenly slicing open on broken glass that hadn’t been there previously.
He scrambled, noting that not only were ashes falling through the air, but piles of scattered dust were coating every inch of the floor in a very fine layer of grey.
His lungs continued to burn, breathing in the concoction of smoke, dust, and ash as he rushed for the window.
As he propped himself on its ledge, he glanced to his right, catching sight of the culprits. Humans decked in gas masks, carrying flame throwers. One pair of eyes he recognized. A human he’d made peace with.
His expression scrunched into one of pain. Betrayal. He’d been stabbed in the back. He’d been naive. He couldn’t believe himself. He was so stupid. How could he have been so foolish?
He was an absolute idiot.
Suddenly, backwards out of the window. He’d been pushed. He had to have been. He felt the fingers against his chest …
He jolted, his eyes flashing open.
He couldn’t breathe, his chest hurt.
He threw himself up into a sit, one hand clutching his scabbed throat as his gaze flickered wildly around the room.
That memory of the clinic was over a thousand years old … He was safe.
He was breathing. He had blankets over him. His fingers were interlocked with Libra’s. Soft beep after soft beep indicated every inhale and exhale. Oh, did his throat ache from the force of pushing the tube down his throat earlier. But he was not in the clinic.
He slowly laid back down, trying his very hardest not to cough against the tube he’d just nearly yanked from his throat from sitting up. His bleary gaze shifted to Libra, gently squeezing his hand.
And for the moment, all he could do was stare at their interlocked fingers. His ebony scales were so dark in comparison to his porcelain skin. He almost laughed at the thought of ‘ebony and ivory.’ but still said nothing as he merely admired the lack of chaos within the lab. He couldn’t quite gather his thoughts enough to sign, but the familiar thrum of his magic was beginning to weakly return to echo through the air, and vibrate through his fingers.
Well now he had some leeway room, but one bad fall could take out forty HP easily.
Reluctantly, he ever so slowly removed his fingers from Libra’s as his hands were the only method in which he could speak, and despite being hooked to a ventilator, clutching to life, his first words were,
“❄☟✌☠😐 ❄☟☜ ☝⚐👎💧📪 ✡⚐🕆 💣✌👎☜ ✋❄📬”
“[Thank the Gods, you made it.]”
His signing was rather sluggish, but he managed a smile despite the tube between his teeth. He found the less he paid attention to the scratch in his throat, the less he felt like gagging.
“⚐☞✋☼💣☜✞📪 ⚐☠ ❄☟☜ 💣☜❄✌☹ ❄☼✌✡ 🕈☟☜☼☜ ✡⚐🕆 ☟✌👎 👌☜☜☠ ☹✌✡✋☠☝📬 ✋❄ ✋💧 ✌ 🏱⚐🕈☜☼☞🕆☹ ☞⚐☼💣 ⚐☞ ✌👍☜❄✌💣✋☠⚐🏱☟☜☠ ❄⚐ 👌☜ ✋☠☺☜👍❄☜👎📬 ✋ 🕈⚐🕆☹👎 💧🕆☝☝☜💧❄ ☝☼✌👌👌✋☠☝ ✋❄ 👌☜☞⚐☼☜ 🕈☜ ☹☜✌✞☜📬 ✌☠👎 ☞☼☜💧☟ ☠☜☜👎☹☜💧📬 ❄☟☜☼☜🕯💧 💧⚐💣☜ ✋☠ ❄☟☜ 👎☼✌🕈☜☼ ✌👍☼⚐💧💧 ❄☟☜ ☼⚐⚐💣 ❄☟☜☼☜📬”
“[Ofirmev, on the metal tray where you had been laying … It is a powerful form of acetaminophen to be injected … I would suggest grabbing it before we leave. And fresh needles. There’s some in that open drawer over there.]”
It felt like hours to get the words signed out, and once he did, he felt winded. Little did he know, but still, he really did look ready to keel over. His scales were a tinge lighter in their pigment. Most of his ebony claws were still chipped and cracked. The usually white sclera to his eyes was unusually red and glossy.
Truthfully, they both were not in any place to leave. They needed to rest.
“🕈☜ 💧☟⚐🕆☹👎 💧❄✌✡ ☟☜☼☜ ☞⚐☼ ❄☟☜ ☠✋☝☟❄📬 ✋ 👎⚐ ☠⚐❄ ❄☟✋☠😐 ✋ 👍⚐🕆☹👎 💧❄✌☠👎 ✌☝✌✋☠ ✋☞ ✋ ❄☼✋☜👎📬 ✋ ❄☟✋☠😐 ☞⚐☼👍✋☠☝ ❄☟✋💧 ❄🕆👌☜ 👎⚐🕈☠ 💣✡ ❄☟☼⚐✌❄ 🕈✌💧 ❄☟☜ ☹✌💧❄ ⚐☞ ❄☟☜ ☜☠☜☼☝✡ ✋ 👍⚐🕆☹👎 ☜✠🏱☜☹📬”
“[We should stay here for the night and rest. I do not think I could stand again if I tried … I think forcing this tube down my throat was the last of the energy I could expel.]”
His smile grew ever so slightly as he readjusted the tube in the corner of his mouth.
“👎✋👎 ✡⚐🕆 ☞✋☠👎 ✌☠✡❄☟✋☠☝ ✡⚐🕆 👍⚐🕆☹👎 🕆💧☜ ❄⚐ ☼☜🏱☹✌👍☜ ✡⚐🕆☼ 💣☜👎✋👍✋☠☜📬”
“[Did you find anything you could use to replace your medicine?]”
