MistNovel - Read Web Novel Stories & Fiction Online

Jenny had been back at the hospital for six hours when the patient coded. She was halfway through her shift, running on coffee and stubborn determination, trying not to think about the message waiting on her burner phone or the inevitable summons she would have to answer.

The alarms started in bay three. Jenny looked up from the chart she was reviewing, her instincts already screaming that something was wrong. She moved quickly, pushing through the curtain to find a middle-aged man thrashing weakly on the gurney, his skin pale and clammy.

"What happened?" Jenny demanded, moving to his side.

The nurse, a competent woman named Lisa, looked baffled. "He was stable ten minutes ago. Chest pain, possible myocardial infarction, but all his vitals were holding steady. Now his pressure is dropping and the monitors are showing irregular rhythms."

Jenny looked at the monitors. Heart rate climbing, blood pressure falling, oxygen saturation wavering. The machines were showing a problem, but they could not identify the source. The medical team was already working, administering medications and preparing for emergency intervention, but Jenny could see the confusion in their eyes. This did not fit any standard pattern.

She closed her eyes for a single, brief second, tuning out the chaos around her. The voices faded. The beeping alarms receded. She focused every ounce of her enhanced hearing on the man beneath her hands, listening to the rhythm of his body with an intensity that no human should possess.

There. Beneath the obvious arrhythmia, beneath the labored breathing and the weak pulse, she heard it. A faint, irregular flutter that the monitors were too crude to detect. His heart was beating in conflicting rhythms, electrical chaos that would kill him in minutes if they did not act.

"Advanced arrhythmia," Jenny said, her voice cutting through the noise. "His conduction system is firing erratically. Get me the defibrillator and prepare a magnesium sulfate drip. We need to reset his entire electrical pathway."

Dr. Chen, who had appeared in the doorway, stared at her. "How do you know that? The EKG is not showing anything definitive."

"Listen to his heartbeat," Jenny said, pressing her fingers to the man's carotid artery. "No pattern, no consistency. This is electrical failure."

It was not something you could hear with normal human ears. The irregularity was too subtle, too deeply buried beneath the surface noise. But Jenny heard it clearly, each misfiring beat like a wrong note in a symphony.

She began the procedure before anyone could question her further. The defibrillator charged with a high-pitched whine. She placed the paddles, called the warning, and delivered the shock. The man's body jerked. The monitors shrieked and then, impossibly, began to stabilize.

"Rhythm coming back," Lisa breathed, staring at the screen. "Sinus rhythm. He is stabilizing."

Jenny stepped back, her hands still steady, her expression calm. Inside, her wolf was pacing, agitated by the prolonged use of senses she was supposed to keep hidden. She forced it down with practiced restraint, breathing slowly until the beast settled.

Dr. Chen was watching her with a mixture of awe and suspicion. "Your instincts are extraordinary, Williams. That diagnosis should have taken an EKG interpretation, a full cardiac workup, maybe a consultation with cardiology. You called it in under thirty seconds."

"I recognized the presentation," Jenny said, the lie smooth and automatic. "The symptoms fit the profile."

"That presentation could have fit a dozen different profiles," Dr. Chen said. But he did not push further. Instead, he clapped her on the shoulder and moved to check on the patient, who was now breathing easier, his color returning.

Jenny excused herself and walked to the supply closet, needing a moment alone. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, feeling the familiar fear settle in her chest. She was getting careless. Too many impossible diagnoses, too many moments where she moved too fast or heard too much. Sooner or later, someone would notice. Someone would ask questions she could not answer.

The door opened. Lisa stepped inside, holding a fresh stack of supplies. She glanced at Jenny and smiled. "You okay? That was intense."

"I am fine," Jenny said. "Just needed a second."

"You saved his life," Lisa said simply. "Whatever instinct you have, I am glad you trust it."

Jenny nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She returned to the trauma bay and threw herself back into work, treating three more patients over the next hour. A broken wrist, a severe allergic reaction, a child with a high fever. Routine cases that required skill but not the dangerous senses she kept hidden.

By the time her shift ended at three in the morning, exhaustion had settled deep into her bones.