My Queen

The bed was empty.

"What do you mean he’s gone?" Elaina’s voice echoed through the ER.

The night nurse looked pale. "He vanished. I turned for one second, and the bed was empty. No discharge, no alarm, nothing on the cameras."

Elaina’s brows furrowed. “What about security? Or police?”

“Security swept the floor. He’s nowhere. And the police haven’t even arrived yet.”

Elaina stared at the now-immaculate bed like it was mocking her. Her chest tightened with unease. Whoever that man was, he wasn’t normal.

One hour earlier…..

The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly above as Dr. Elaina Rivers leaned over the emergency room table, her gloves soaked in crimson. The hospital was unusually quiet for a Friday night in Crescent Hollow—a city where quiet usually meant something bad was brewing in the shadows.

"BP dropping—he’s bleeding out fast!" the nurse called out, pressing the gauze harder against the patient’s chest.

“I need a clamp—now!” Elaina barked, her voice focused but urgent. Her eyes scanned the gaping gunshot wound just below the left clavicle. Whoever this man was, the bullet had missed his heart by a breath. He was lucky… if he survived.

As Elaina worked, sweat pooled along her spine. The patient’s face was bruised, unshaven, and unfamiliar, but something about him stirred a flicker of recognition deep in her gut—she couldn’t explain.

"He's stable—for now," she muttered, finally breathing when the bleeding slowed under her careful hands. She stripped off her gloves and stepped back.

"Should I notify the police?" the nurse asked.

Elaina nodded. "Yes. He’s clearly part of something shady. That wasn’t a random shooting."

The man had come in alone—dumped at the hospital entrance and left to die. No name, no ID, and no explanation.

She stared at him again. Something felt… off. His skin, though pale from blood loss, had an odd shimmer under the light. And his body was too quick to recover once the bleeding stopped, as if his cells were knitting themselves back together faster than normal. But Elaina shook off the thought. She’d been working too many double shifts lately.

"I’ll check on him in an hour," she told the nurse and turned toward the locker room.

Later……

Elaina sat in the hospital café with Daisy, sipping a lukewarm cappuccino. Daisy had been her best friend since med school—funny, brilliant, and always up for late-night gossip.

“I swear, Dais, I stitched him up myself. I clamped his artery. He should’ve been knocked out cold for at least another six hours. Then poof—he disappears like Batman.”

Daisy smirked, stirring her tea. “You sure you didn’t imagine him? Maybe he was a ghost with abs.”

Elaina gave her a look. “I’m serious.”

“I know.” Daisy leaned in. “And I believe you. I’ve heard stories, El. This city’s full of strange shadows. Mafia types, old bloodlines, weird cult rumors—hell, even my Uber driver said he saw a wolf walking on two legs last week.”

Elaina raised an eyebrow.

Daisy laughed. “Okay, maybe not that. But seriously, maybe it’s worth looking into.”

Elaina tapped her fingers against the table. “He wasn’t normal. And not just because of how he healed. When I looked into his eyes… there was something ancient there. Like he knew me.”

Daisy’s teasing smile softened. “You’ve always had strange dreams and weird instincts, El. Maybe he’s connected to all that.”

Elaina looked out the window, her heart restless. The city lights blinked like distant stars, and a breeze stirred the branches of the hospital’s old oak tree.

“I don’t know,” she murmured. “But something’s coming. I can feel it.”

……

By the time Elaina reached her apartment, the city had slipped into midnight silence. She kicked off her shoes, let her coat slide off her shoulders, and collapsed onto her couch with a sigh.

The memory of those red-rimmed eyes still haunted her. Not the patient’s—but the ones from her dreams. She’d had them since childhood. Forests burning. Screams echoing. And always—always—a pair of glowing red eyes staring at her from the smoke, whispering:

"My Queen."

Elaina shook her head and poured herself a glass of wine. Maybe she was going crazy. Maybe she just needed sleep.

So she took a hot shower, slipped into an oversized t-shirt, and curled up under her duvet.

And that night—everything changed.

……

She stood in a forest wreathed in flames.

The trees screamed as they burned, their branches clawing at the sky. Smoke filled her lungs, but she didn’t choke. She walked barefoot through the ash, her white dress stained red.

“Elaina.”

A whisper in the wind.

“Elaina…”

She turned.

A figure stood beyond the fire.

Tall. Cloaked in shadow. And glowing red eyes like twin coals in the darkness.

“My Queen,” he said, voice deep as thunder.

She stumbled back. “Who are you?!”

But her voice was swallowed by the crackling fire.

“You’ve returned,” he said. “You broke the cycle.”

Elaina clutched her chest. Pain throbbed in her heart like something was trying to break free. Visions flashed before her eyes: a crown… blood-stained hands… a sword buried in a lover’s heart.

“No—no—I don’t remember—!”

“You will.”

The figure raised his hand—and the world burned brighter than the sun.

…….

She woke up screaming.

Heart pounding. Skin drenched in sweat.

Her apartment was dark, except for the pale moonlight sliding through her window blinds.

Elaina sat up, chest heaving. “Just a dream,” she whispered.

But then—she felt it.

Warmth. Wetness.

She looked down.

Her hands were soaked in blood.

Not hers.

Not from any wound.

Just blood—fresh, dark, and somehow… familiar.

She stared at it, frozen.

And the whisper from her dream echoed again through her mind.

"My Queen."