CitPC Chapter IV, part 3.
A big thanks to Tanya and Mrs C. Your the only reason why I'm still writing this... (Don't get me wrong, I love writing and stuff... just sometimes I feel that my attempts at writing are going to waste.)
Rating: PG, or PG-13, because it's very boring and contains a lot of Eric. My apologies.
Caught in the Python's Coils
Chapter IV: Paradox, part 3.
Monday, February 14th. 11:25am, London Bridge Hospital, Ward 20.
God… what the hell happened last night? My head’s flippin’ killing me.
Eric was sound asleep lying on a white hospital bed in Ward 20, with a warm towel wrapped around his head. As he gradually awoke, he lifted his eyelids but closed them quickly as a sharp beam of light struck at his pupils.
Whilst flinching in mild pain, he could hear footsteps slowly approach him, getting louder and louder. They stopped. Eric attempted to open his eyes again, this time they remained open but he had to squint to let his eyes adjust to this sudden brightness, and his vision was very blurred. He could just make out a slender looking figure standing straight in front of him.
“Good morning Mr Idle,” The figure said softly.
“Huh… wuh?” Eric murmured, lifting his hand up to his head and removing the towel.
“Still feeling a little queasy?”
Eric slowly angled his head upwards to get a better view of this person.
“A tad, yeah,” he spoke softly.
He widened his eyes somewhat, and could now see that this person was a woman. He groaned as he pulled himself up to sit upright.
“Wha… happened, uh, last night?” he slurred.
“You went out binge drinking. You must’ve had gotten very carried away, as you ran straight into a lamppost and knocked yourself out.”
Eric didn’t reply. He groaned quietly, and was having slight difficulty keeping awake.
“Mr Idle?” the nurse asked him loudly.
Eric jolted back awake, and started rubbing his head again.
“Huh…? I did what?” His voice muttered incoherently.
“Knocked yourself out,” she repeated.
“You suffered mild concussion, but nothing more. Symptoms you may encounter, or already have encountered, include dizziness, unclear speech, sensitivity to light, confusion, and a throbbing headache. You will need to remain here for a few days to get your strength back. You still seem quite bewildered and disorientated. We can’t risk releasing you, until we know for certain that you are fully conscious and synchronized.”
The nurse went on over to Eric and began to straighten up his bed.
She peered up at him and said: “Would you like a warm cup of hot chocolate to wake you up?”
“Yeah, thanks,” Eric said.
She smiled warmly, and made her way out. She pulled over the curtains surrounding Eric’s bed, and strolled out the room to fetch his drink.
No, wait. I don’t want to be cooped up here all day. Thought Eric, frowning to himself. Stupid woman can’t keep me here. I’m absolutely fine. Just a little dizzy that’s all.
He swivelled himself round and removed his legs from under the quilt. His feet were now on the floor next to him. He glanced to the floor, cringing slightly and holding his head.
Ugh, bloody headache, He groaned in pain, then glanced up and saw his clothes, neatly pressed and folded in a pile on a chair. He grinned and proceeded to change into them.
Now, I’ve just gotta sneak outta here…
Monday, February 14th. 11:50am, London Bridge Hospital, Main Reception.
“Package for a Mr Idle,” Called the postman, strolling into the premises and approaching the reception desk.
The woman behind the desk (named Christina) glanced up.
“Hmm… What is it exactly?” she asked.
“Dunno,” The postman shrugged, “It’s just a box, and all it says is, “Eric Idle, London Bridge Hospital, 27 Tooley Street, London, SE1 2PR.”
Chris stared at the man sceptically.
“We’re not expecting any packages at the moment,” She said firmly.
Chris returned to her computer, and began to type in something on the keyboard.
“Oh, hang on,” she said, staring at the screen and narrowing her eyes. “We do have a patient by the name of Mr Idle, but he’s still in bed, and visitors are not permitted at this time.”
Chris turned her attention back to the standing postman.
“You can always leave it here, and I’ll pop it into our storage area for safekeeping. I’m sure he’ll pick it up soon.”
“Well, it might be a little heavy for you, love. I’ll do it if you’d like.”
Chris’s eyes suddenly lit up, and she gave him a pleasant smile.
“Would you? What a fine gentleman you are, sir,” She said sweetly.
“No it’s no problem,” The man grinned back, “Which way is the, er--”
“Oh just past the reception, up the first staircase, second door on the right. It should be open.”
“Ah, thank you.”
As the postman began to climb the staircase, somebody was quickly coming down them. He stopped and moved to the side to let the person past… this person being Mr Idle.
“Good morning,” The postie said.
“Good, erm, mornin’,” muttered Eric, sprinting past him and then running down the small corridor leading to the reception area.
“Ah, hello there. Has the nurse let you off the hook?” asked Chris. Eric paused, and quickly looked at the woman worriedly, as if to suggest that he’d just been caught red-handed. Fortunately for Eric, the receptionist only worked morning shifts so was unaware of the scale of Eric’s condition when he was wheeled in last night. He decided to cease this opportunity to finally escape.
“Yep, she says that I’m, urm, good to go. So I’d best be, er, going home now,” He said nervously.
“Of course sir. See you later.”
Eric smiled and swiftly walked to the main doors.
“Oh, hang on,” cried Chris, waving to Eric to grab his attention. He glanced round. “The postman’s just gone past with a package for you.”
Eric raised his eyebrows as if to say, ‘Oh, really?’
“If you hurry, you might just catch him.”
And the moment she said this, the postman entered.
“Ah, this is Mr Idle, the recipient of your package,” She spoke to the postman.
“Oh yeah,” he replied to her, then turned to Eric, “I’ve just left the box in the storage room for you to pick up. Just pop up the stairs, second door to the right.”
“Alright,” Eric replied.
He sighed and quickly returned to the staircase. Great, so much for escaping this godforsaken prison.
Never mind… its only some dumb package. I’ll just quickly nip up, get it and Bob’s your uncle.
He ran to the second door, entered and slammed it from behind him. He exhaled. He narrowed his eyes as he noticed a weird object on the floor. A box.
Grab the box, Eric. Don’t have all day.
For some peculiar reason, the box had a somewhat eerie quality about it. Why the hell would anyone send Eric a strange package? He certainly hadn’t been shopping recently, and decided to order anything to be delivered… neither had his wife.
It’s just a box.
His arms started to shake ever so slightly. His legs didn’t budge. He really wanted to get going, but the urge to open the box was proving too great. For Christ’s sake, take it and go! His face suddenly flinched as a trickle of cold sweat slowly navigated down his cheek. It’s nothing. Eric thought, idly gazing at the lone object in the middle of this blank almost dejected dark room of emptiness. This sudden pressure and urge was too great for Eric to take anymore. Alright Eric, if you must… He took a breath, then exhaled to calm himself down. Just open the box and it’ll be all over, then you can go. After much persuasion, slowly his legs began to proceed forward. A box is a box! What life-threatening thing could possibly be living inside of it? He kept telling himself. Every small step he took seemed to last forever. Every small step only increased Eric’s unnatural apprehensiveness. “Why in God’s name do I feel so… anxious?” He said out loud, but not too loud in case someone was watching him, thinking he’d gone mad. He crouched in front of it and inspected it. What his eye the most was what the message on the top said. “Eric Idle, London Bridge Hospital, 27 Tooley Street…?” He murmured, raising an eyebrow, “Why was it sent here? I don’t live here.” He fiddled with the lock until he managed to get it open. He opened the box. What was in it he simply did not expect at all. All that seemed to be inside was just a plain note. Eric glared at it angrily. Now that’s just takin’ the bloody piss. Why would you send a great big box to a random hospital with only a stupid note inside? This guy must have money to burn. Eric picked up the little note, and read it. It simply said:
“Do you like BBQ?”
“Do I like BBQ?” Eric said, “Why?”
He sniffed the air as a strong whiff of an unidentifiable source brushed against his nostrils. Eric grimaced, and his nose began to scrunch up. “Ugh! What’s that horrid smell?” he asked himself, holding his nose in disgust. It was in fact coming from the box. He suddenly noticed a long piece of red cloth underneath where the note was placed. Why didn’t I detect that beforehand? Well, it is pretty dark in here. He removed the cloth, and found some things wrapped in brown paper. There were white labels on them, saying “Loin”, “Sirloin”, “Rump”, and “Fillet” and another note slotted in-between them, which read,
“I saved you some, Mr Idle.”
“Saved me what? I never wanted anything saving.” He stopped talking and froze. His ears perked up when he heard a muffled voice from behind the door. He could just make out what the voice was saying.
“Right … get … choc … Idle.”
Crap, its that nurse with my drink! He was about to run to the door, but then looked back at the box, and considered his options. He sighed. Whatever it is, a freebee’s a freebee I guess. He thought, then rapidly snatched the box, placed it under his arm and, when the coast was clear, dashed out.
El Parte 4?:- http://pythonline.com/media/citpc-chapter-iv-part-4