Doctors were in trouble when the creature was just about to born. The umbilical cord was surrounding the creature and it was near to suffocate it. Its eyes turned into brown and it stopped breathing. Its limbs looked like simple corpses dividing the creature. Doctor could save its life in the last moment, but they knew something went wrong when they saw its lifeless face and its fallen hands.
‘Take the blood, fast!’
And someone ran faster than wind and opened one of the boxes. It was cold there, it had to be cold to get born a creature like it. They used its right arm to make the transfusion. The creature opened its noise and started breathing again for a second and, after that, it looked to die. Lorraine was stand up in the left corner of the room, looking carefully how her creation was nearly dying.
‘It’s dead.’ One of the doctors said. ‘We cannot do anything for it.’
The creature shouldn’t be in fact a real creature; it might be a creation of various insane minds. Was he really who wrote the book? The writer smiled for a moment and continued with the book. It was created in a laboratory, true… but it was not… He couldn’t remember when or where he wrote those sentences, those weird words that now escapes from him and tries to cry to outside. Alex wasn’t ever in Frankfurt but then he could remember clearly its streets and its people, its corners and its smoking living humanity. He began to feel bad, overbalancing and seeking for the answer to the question nobody knows.
‘It lives!’ Lorraine shouted again. Doctors looked each other: the creature opened its eyes and looked around them.
‘Blood, it needs more blood to survive.’
They needed at least three transfusions to keep the creature living. After two hours of hard work, the creature was stable.
‘And now, what will we do with Mirror?’ Lorraine asked. Nobody in the room answered Lorraine. ‘Then, I will decide, won’t I? I will call W.’
**Fake Game, serial novel by Martin Cid.
First Chapter http://yareah.com/?p=1846