Fate And Mercy

Just then, bright fluorescent lights lightened up. The smell of antiseptic. A clock on the wall read 9:30 PM.

The unmistakable giggling sound in the hallway.

Vanessa gasped. Her fingers flew to her throat. Skin unbroken. No blood. But the memory sat there, and bleeding in her skull. Brooklyn's smirk. Justin's feigned guilt.

9:30 PM. Less than five minutes before she confronted him and got herself killed.

Heaven had shown her mercy.

Now she was back. One chance to rewrite it.

She didn't waste time crying. Her hands shook once, then stilled. She pressed them flat against her thighs. Breathed in. Breathed out.

Her residency completion could wait. Surviving the night couldn't. This time she was going to avoid anything that would take her to that damn closet. But it seems fate works faster than resolve. Her beeper beeped with a message.

" Nessa, fetch a file from the file room and be quick."

It was a directive from one of the senior nurses, Chief Ripley.

File room. A room away from the closet. The same hallway. The same path to her doom. She wanted to ignore the directive but Chief Ripley hated her and he won't hesitate to delay her residency even for such a flimsy reason.

She took a deep breath and walked to the room, her fingers curled around the files she wanted.

Vanessa walked down the same hallway again. Her footsteps echoed. The fluorescent lights hummed above her. The memories—barely five minutes old—gnawed at her insides. Her throat still remembered the pressure. Her lungs remembered the lack of air.

Then she heard it.

Giggling. Moans. The unmistakable rhythm of bodies in the supply closet.

Same sounds. Same betrayal. Same dirty words falling from familiar lips.

"...Didn't you tell me she was a dead koi?" Brooklyn's voice, heavy with satisfaction.

"Keeping her? I'm just using her to get what I want, baby. You don't need to be jealous of her. Come on baby, get on your knees and let daddy treat you well!"

Vanessa's hand tightened around the chart. The plastic edge bit into her palm.

In her past life she had burst in, heartbroken, and given them exactly what they wanted. She had swore to destroy their chances of getting a residency. But it ended in her accidental death.

Not this time.

She stared at the file in her hands. Her lips pressed together. The corners tugged upward, but it wasn't a smile. It was something tighter. Sharper.

She walked toward the closet.

The door was slightly ajar. She could hear the wet sounds of their bodies, the grunts, the breathless whispers. The chair stood against the wall, a forgotten piece of furniture.

She grabbed it.

She jammed it under the handle with a single, hard shove. The wood scraped against the floor. The metal handle locked into place.

The muffled yells started immediately.

She took a step back. Then another. Then she turned her head toward the door, her voice cutting through their chaos.

"You have all day to fuck yourselves, assholes. For the record, I am breaking up with you, Justin."

She spat the words out. They tasted bitter on her tongue. But they also tasted like freedom.

The pounding started. Fists against the wood. The chair rattled but held.

"You had better think twice about what you just said." Justin's voice, fuming, muffled through the door. "You won't make it past day one, Vanessa. Being a surgeon is too much pressure for someone like you. Be good and open the fucking door!"

Same words. Same pressure. Same manipulation.

Vanessa's jaw tightened. She looked at the door. At the outline of his shape on the other side, banging like a trapped animal.

"You want me to open the door?" The coldness seeped out, betrayal breeding something else in Vanessa's mind.

"Yes." Pride crept into Justin's muffled voice. "And I might consider getting married to you..."

Vanessa's face crumpled. Her eyes burned. She wiped the corner of her eye with the back of her hand. The tear came away wet. She looked at it for a second. Then she lifted her head.

"Marry you?" Her voice cracked, then steadied. "You are trash, Justin. I don't remember being a garbage truck."

Silence from behind the door. Then a low growl.

"You…"

She rolled her eyes. Her shoulders straightened. She stepped closer to the door, her mouth inches from the wood.

"Besides," she said, her voice sharp and clear, "I would rather FUCK YOUR FATHER than let you touch me again."

The pounding stopped.

For a moment, nothing. Just the hum of the lights and the distant beep of hospital monitors.

Then the door shook violently. A crash. The chair groaned.

But it held.

Vanessa didn't look back. She turned on her heel. Her sneakers squeaked against the polished floor. The chart in her hand swung at her side.

Behind her, muffled curses. Brooklyn's high-pitched outrage. Justin's snarling threats.

The sounds faded as she walked.

She walked down the hallway, toward the stairwell. Her steps echoed steady and sure.

She was done being dead.

Hurt. Angered. Tasty for revenge.

**

As Vanessa left the busy hallway down to the parking lot, she finally crumpled under her feigned bravery. She let her tears flow down her face as she tried to unlock the door, but it wouldn't budge. Luckily she averted her death this time.

She was finally free from that asshole.

In a fit of rage filled with the hurt in her heart, she pounded on the driver's side window as if she was venting her anger at those cheating bastards who caused her in her previous life. Her eyes were screaming murder.

Not until a shattering sound brought her out of her state of desperation.

Realisation dawned on her as her eyes were glued to the car. She stepped back, panicking as a man emerged from the car.

His chiselled features and piercing eyes were a deep but attractive contrast to the oozing from his cheekbones as he brushed the shattered glass off his body.

The cut on his cheek oozed blood.

"Who do you need me to kill?" He asked, his deep voice sending a shiver down Vanessa's spine.

“ What?” Vanessa replied, stunned.

Wasn't it supposed to be the other way round? She almost killed him and the man's aura was screaming murder!

She was definitely the one getting killed, again.