ameliarcyes-blog

[ameliarcyes-blog]

@avramisms

         The hospital was silent for once. While usually there was hustle and bustle, for once it felt like everything had just STOPPED. Rather than taking a breath of relief, however, it just put Amelia on edge. She’d collected those she could prior to the quarantine, brought them into shelter, gave them food from the hospital’s supply (that was running out quickly) and now they were lying awake, alone in their beds, pondering who was left and who had died. Just like she was. 

         It didn’t take her long to make her mind up. Clad in pyjamas she’d found in the pysch wing, she made her way to where Ethan had mentioned he would be staying for the night. She knocked on the door once, quietly, in an attempt not to wake him. All she needed was someone to CONFIDE in, a second of peace.

[ameliarcyes-blog]

jivnnas:

     fingers played at the faded bloodstains placed on the brim of her grey shirt, the maroon colored jacket had been placed over the shirt keeping the brunette warm. “ i really wish my nails would have been done before all this. ”

     Amelia was making an effort to get along with everyone, but she wasn’t exactly the easiest one to relate to. Nails were her priority when people were dying? Still, she kept her expression neutral and tilted her head. “Uh, someone may have nail polish somewhere?”

[ameliarcyes-blog]

lyrabarnes:

“     i wish i could get my hands on some of the dna of the dead. there are so many things that i want to look at.     ”

“I would offer to go and get one for you, but... not so easy. However, I might be able to get a sample from the hospital. How much would you love me?”

[ameliarcyes-blog]

laurelcasfillo:

Oh, just wait until we’ve seen each other naked…

[ameliarcyes-blog]

avramisms:

The hospital was CHAOS. 

Of all the things that were happening, Ethan should have expected it. He should have expected to see patients lined along all benches, the gurneys lining the halls. The few doctors, nurses, and emergency personnel rushing from patient to patient. In doorways, he could see an odd number of officers. Not nearly enough for the crowd amassed in the waiting room, though. Someone was shouting somewhere, and suddenly there was a loud cry down the hall. He swallowed and steeled himself so he wouldn’t turn around to leave. There was a reason he became a coroner. This was insanity. 

As he pushed forward, past agitated and fearful family members and patients, he caught glimpses of some of the injuries. He assumed many came from riots– with busted lips and noses, scrapped up heads and oddly held limbs. A man sat apart from the others, his wife holding his arm as he doubled over. Ethan didn’t know where to start, so he kept walking. There was no one at the front desk, but a nurse hovering nearby caught his arm. She resonated a frantic kind of desperation. 

“Dr. Avrams, thank god. Dr. Reyes is short-staffed in the Emergency Room, do you mind? No need to sign in, we’re taking whoever we could get.” He didn’t remember her name. So, he just nodded– a little stunned by the sensory overload of it all. 

“Sure, I’ll–” She released him then went back to trying to calm a woman who was now openly sobbing. He went in the direction he knew the Emergency Room to be and was almost run over by a gurney as it was shoved forcefully past him. Ethan followed at a jog now and once he got past the doors he was hit with a wave of all-out hell. It was somehow worse than the waiting room. 

@ameliarcyes

“I need sutures, stat!” A doctor screamed, they weren’t hollering anymore, they were screaming above all of the patients desperate shouts, above the groans of pain from the innocents. 

“I need a gurney over here!” Another doctor yelled, Dr. Edwards, if Amelia were being specific. She was one of hers, fearless and adamant that she would stay, even when she’d pleaded that she leave. Edwards had a beautiful family at home, a loving wife, and a baby boy. They needed her. They would need her even more as this continued. 

Amelia could not listen to any of their pleas. Instead, she was slaving away over a patient who’d had to wait a tragically long time to see them, bleeding rapidly. Why no one had brought him to her sooner would torment her for hours under different circumstances. The man had lost a quarter of his blood, and she was pumping one of their last bags into him. Slowly, his colour was returning to his face, although he had yet to return to consciousness. There was no one from neuro left to check out his skull where a nasty cut lay. He’d smashed it hard, apparently, after someone had attacked him and taken off his hand.

The last step of care was to sew his skin back together without the finger. It was all the mercy that she could afford to give him. She was a doctor, not a surgeon, and he had lost his finger in the chaos. Slowly, she thread the needle through his flesh, careful not to lose focus while listening to the screams. And just like that, she’d done all that she could for him. 

She left the hallway that the man lay in, laying a sign on his bed that read ‘CHECK AS OFTEN AS POSSIBLE!��� and made her way back into the main room of the ER. There she saw Ethan, and relief flooded her. Another doctor. More importantly, a friend. She was bloody, her eyes reddened from the long hours and tears she’d shed over the patients she’d lost. The death count was too high. 

“Ethan!” She called, crossing the room carefully, avoiding the gurneys rushing by and antsy, terrified patients. She wrapped her arms around him without hesitation, needing a moments relief, and then pulled away. Time to give the report. “We’re wildly understaffed, people are getting angry, demanding care and we’re running low on supplies. There was one guy in the east hallway who’s been stabbed and bitten. He hasn’t lost any limbs, but he’s lost a lot of blood. He’s our next patient. I’ll need you to work on the bite while I work on the stab wound.” Amelia paused, looking him over. No wounds, no signs of being attacked. “Are you okay?”

[ameliarcyes-blog]

jcmima:

Why - oh why - did she have to be the one responsible for two kids? Not only was she worried about her parents, who she still haven’t heard a word from or about, but now she was forced to keep in mind of two adolescents. Jemima was never meant to be a parent and just a few days with those kids made that one obvious. Jemima spent time staring at her tv, watching the news. She needed to know what was going on and right now, it didn’t seem safe to be outside. The kids - however - she lost track of them hours ago. A word from the eldest mentioning the store that was only a block away. Jemima thought they would be back in five minutes. Five minutes turned five hours and now… Oh god. They were probably fine. They had to be. 

While she sat there with her mind racing, Jemima jumped at the sound of the door opening. The kids were back - right? Who else could it be? She raced downstairs towards the door only to find Amelia. “Amy? A-are you sure? I - The kids that were with me. I have to wait for them to get back. I can’t just get up and leave!” Where would they go? She moved to shut the door behind Amelia. “It’s just - drugs. Right? I mean, the dead can’t actually… Can they?” She couldn’t find the words. How would she describe what she’s been seeing on the news?

“Do you know where they went? We can try to find them.” In her experience in the ER, she’d learned two things: you always have to act and how to lead. She gave orders as suggestions, became more authoritative when necessary, and could think fast. If the kids weren’t back and Jemima had an idea about where they could be, they would look for them and take them to safety too. If not, they would come up with a less desirable option, one that was hard for her to think. They would leave. Ultimately, their knowledge was more critical than a child’s. Kids had an unlikely chance of survival as it was in a chaotic world. They could save more lives if they were breathing than if they were not. 

Once Amelia was safely inside, she wrapped an arm around Jemima, an attempt to comfort both herself and her best friend. Whether or not it was successful was impossible to say. The kids were missing, people were being eaten, death, death, death and more death was coming. And what did she think? She thought that their lives were more important than those of children’s. And the worst part was that she knew logically, she was right. She was a doctor, capable of saving lives and inspiring confidence in those that survived. Jemima had a scientific background, she was bright, she was capable of possibly working with others on a cure, if they should need one. Disgusted with herself, Amelia swallowed back tears, steadied herself, and answered Jem’s question. “Love...” she started, and right there, she knew Jem would be alarmed. Amelia rarely used terms of affection. “You know that anything is possible, better than anyone. We know... what we’ve read, what theories there are about chemical warfare and viruses gone wrong. There’s countless explanations, but they look undead. They’re cannibalizing people. We need to believe this and we need to get ourselves safe, no matter the cost. We’ll do this together. I won’t let anyone -- anything -- hurt you.”

[ameliarcyes-blog]

what is more unfair than having to choose between being a monster or being a hero?          (—when you have to be both.) when you learn that the road to hell is paved with more than just good intentions.

you are not heads or tails; you are the coin | m.a.w (via anaswriting)

[ameliarcyes-blog]

@jcmima

          Jemima had been on her mind since she’d first seen the mayor’s violent, gruesome death. Her safety was critical, her wellbeing was a priority, and honestly? She didn’t want to be alone, and her best friends company was the one that she desired the most. In a crisis, her instinct was to help people, to save those that were saveable, to heal those that could be healed. Her self-preservation instinct was a second thought. However, a whole thirteen hours spent slaving away in a hospital, seeing all of the death firsthand quickly changed her tune. The only way to save these people was to first save herself. Everything in her house that could be useful was packed in a bag, food, medical supplies, water, a knife, and she headed to Jemima’s. The jaunt was long, she’d insisted on bringing her car in order to flee faster, but when she got there, she exhaled a breath she didn’t realize that she was holding. 

          Amelia let herself into her best friend’s home, not bothering to knock, and called out, “We need to leave. We need... to run. Find a place to hole up, I got supplies. We’ll come back for them, right? We can.” She sounded more confident than she felt. Her resolve had been shaken to its core.

[ameliarcyes-blog]

frankhorne:

@ameliarcyes

          a grim expression was etched onto the mans face. he had heard the news, and despite his cold person he did have a few people that he did actually have concerns about. upon hearing the news frank grabbed his handgun, and drove over to amelia’s house. using the key he entered the house. he normally knocked to be polite, but today he was more concerned for her safety and to see if she was okay. “amelia, you home?” he called out his voice ringing throughout the house.

          She’d stayed at the hospital for as long as she could, saw as much blood, gore and death as she could emotionally handle and then headed home. So far no one, nothing, had bit her. So far she was intact. As desperate as she was to survive, to help, she knew that there wasn’t a lot that she could do with so little information. Once she arrived home, Amelia curled up on her couch, a butcher knife in her hand, and cried for a minute. Sixty seconds of emotional vulnerability was all that she allotted herself. When the door opened, she held the knife out and looked over the back of her couch. There she saw Frank, not a flesh eating... thing, and a breath of relied came out. The knife clattered to the floor when she crossed the room to him. Wordlessly, she hugged him tightly, all anger forgotten amongst this confusing mess. “Are you okay? You’re alive, you’re not bleeding...”

[ameliarcyes-blog]

charliehornehq:

◇ @ameliarcyes ᵒ ◦ . 

He cleared his throat. Charlie had been on this earth for a long time, but he was not prepared for what he witnessed just moments before. “E-Excuse me,” He said trying to get the attention of ANYONE who could help him. “My Student was, uh, he was attacked, and I brought him here because I, um, panicked. They were waiting to be picked up,” he trailed off. In his arms was his student, unconscious and breathing rapidly.  The assailant had bitten off a chuck of the student’s arms. Charlie’s eyes were teary and afraid.

The majority of her staff had left the moment she’d given them permission. The way Amelia saw it was anyone who didn’t want to be here, managing the crowds, aiding the public at the risk of their own LIVES, they were welcome to leave. She didn’t blame them for it. Hell, if her conscience would allow it, she’d be right behind them. But people kept pouring in, each person worse off than the one before, and all she could do was STAY, barking orders at those who remained. That was when a man’s voice cut through her haze, he sounded frightened. Understandably so once Amelia spotted the child in his arms, gasping for breath, pale from blood loss. Part of his arm was missing. “Hold on, sir,” she said quickly. A glance around the ER showed her that all of the doctors and nurses were attending to people already. “Help me take him to the gurney over there,” she pointed to the far wall on their right. “I’ll do whatever I can, okay?” Her tone was an attempt at soothing, “But I may need HELP. We’re very... short staffed and very overrun.”

[ameliarcyes-blog]

@parkerweber

       The news had been grim for a day now, but it was nothing compared to this. This was catastrophic, a life changing broadcast, one that would bring suffering and chaos to the people. The mayor was dead. People were biting each other, eating each other, and there was no explanation about how or why. Only that if you suspected that you were infected, please go to the hospital. Amelia checked her phone for any pages, any news, and there was nothing. Only a text from her sister asking if she was okay. A man yelled from across the room, “Stay away from me! Something’s wrong! My skin... it’s burning!” Logically, she knew that it was likely panic, especially if he suffered from anxiety. She was trained from this. The general public however was not. The crowd started pushing against him, trying to force him out, they were yelling insults and threats. 

      “Hey! Everybody calm down! I’m a doctor,” as she spoke, she held her credentials up for everyone to see. “I can help this man. I’ll find out what’s wrong with him. And if anybody can help, you’re welcome to.” Once her announcement was done, she crossed the room towards him. 

[ameliarcyes-blog]

jxnathanmir:

“I’m starting to feel like bad luck. I show up, then that earthquake happened, and now the mayor’s dead. Maybe I should’ve just stayed in New York…”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think the same thing is happening there. It’s scary, isn’t it?”

[ameliarcyes-blog]

solcnum:

“I’m totally NOT using the earthquake as an excuse to drink before eight p.m. But considering the fact that  an aftershock could strike Arizona, I can’t think of any reason not to drink right now. 

“As long as you’re not using it an excuse,” she said with a laugh. “But if you were, I’d completely agree. C'est la vie and all that, right?”

[ameliarcyes-blog]

nickmccloud:

“That happened really, really… really quickly.” It was safe to say he was heavily worried about a certain someone. He wasn’t exactly sure where she was anymore. “Happen to know where the nearest phone booth is at?”

“I don’t think phone booths exist anymore, sorry to be the bearer of bad news.” Amelia looked him over once before asking, “Everything okay?”

[ameliarcyes-blog]

jennavievestclaire:

“I was just asking what time it is, if that’s not too much trouble. I have to be somewhere, but my phone died, and it’s just been a rough morning.”

[ameliarcyes-blog]

melissamoreau:

“ i love helping people, trust me but the guy staying at my house won’t stop talking about conspiracy theories. i thought it was interesting for the first hour, but now i can’t stand it. ” she said with a groan as she sipped on her coffee.

“Is he okay? He could have hit his head or something,” Amelia suggested, raising an eyebrow. “The family that’s staying with me is really nice. Kinda shy, but sweet.”

[ameliarcyes-blog]

jcmima:

“Are you saying that because you know I can’t be mad at you longer than two seconds? That’s hurtful,” she joked with her. “You absolute poor soul,” how could she resist the urge to tease her? “Why don’t we? Dude, we could just barge into his home and arrest him. It would be almost fun!”

“Of course not, I would never take advantage of that. You beat me though, I think I could only last one.” Amelia laughed, “I know. It’s hard to be me, a real curse, actually.” She went along with Jem’s joke happily, a natural banter had always been between the two of them. “I’m so in! Do you know where he lives or should we follow him? Maybe he has a son we could seduce in order to get in?”