Chereads / The Boy Who Lived Will Not Go To Die Again / Chapter 1 - Spell 1. Death - Morbid Title, I Admit

The Boy Who Lived Will Not Go To Die Again

🇦🇨Puffy_Bird
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Synopsis

Chapter 1 - Spell 1. Death - Morbid Title, I Admit

Back when he started coughing two weeks back, it was still early October. He knew the symptoms of the virus were highly variable and non specific, and the guidelines were changing every time. But he had to work, his job demanded that of him. He tested for the virus; it came back negative.

The next day, he felt his throat getting worse. A few days later, he felt like he was drowning.

Becoming a physician was not easy. It took an extraordinary amount of effort and dedication to even get to the starting line. But sometimes the tables turn, now more than ever, and placed in a position of powerlessness, one has to face the reality of having become a patient. Now as he lay on the white sheets of his bed in the ICU with a breathing mask strapped to his face, he could not help but regret not enjoying his youthful days.

He made sure he stayed up during the day, so that he could pass out at night. Trying to breathe and pass the time was very hard. Lately, he had started playing an online pvp game again, and taking the wizard class, he managed to crush the lower levels of the competition.

But as he climbed up the charts, he quickly found out - these healers in battlegrounds just won't die. It was nuts. It took DPS focus targeting and coordinating interrupts with the rest of your team to take down one skilled healer, and so long as they have mana, the healer will always outheal your damage, and chuck all sorts of debuffs on you while buffing and shielding their team. It felt like each healer was an effing mini raid boss.

F**k this. I'll change to a healer, he thought, deleting his arch wizard account.

A few days later, he was strolling through the battlegrounds, auto casting heal and shielding spells, and slapping dps in the face while tanking all the damage.

He picked up his phone and scrolled through the messages, most of them encouraging him, and a few friends had sent him books which he could read to pass the time. One of them was a book he had seen his friends read when he was younger- Harry Potter.

The reason he had waited so long to read this series was because he couldn't imagine enjoying a story about an eleven year old kid in a school for witches and wizards. He found the idea too juvenile for his taste.

He was wrong of course.

Books 1 to 3 were more or less the same. There is a mystery, the kids encounter said mystery, they go on an adventure and come back safe and sound in time for dinner.

More than the plot itself, he found the characters quite endearing. A bit cheesy and predictable perhaps, but he"ll take it.

At Book 4, he could not help but think- these kids are way in over their heads.

The next two books pretty much hammered that point home.When he got to the final book, it was even worse.

After the end, he decided that it was quite good series after all. Now he could barely see through his red puffy eyes.

He felt more tired than ever.

The next day, his colleague Nick, now his doctor, came by his bedside.

"Your breathing is getting worse", Nick said, his tone casual. "We need to intubate you this evening."

Crisp, and to the point.

"And putting you in an induced coma will help you with the breathing", he addes helpfully.

"How long will it last?"

"I hope to see you in a week, or maybe two", Nick tried to reassure him, awkwardly fiddling with his pen.

An uncomfortable silence lay between them as Nick flipped through the pages of the lab reports.

"Will I die?"

Nick paused in the middle of writing his note, trying to come up with the right word to say. Then again, this was a difficult conversation.

"Call your loved ones", Nick quietly said, closing the case file, moving to the next bed in the row.

"Will you be there...at the end?"

In the 10 odd years he had known his friend, this was the first time he had heard the quiver in his voice.

Nick turned around. He had his mask on, but from the warmth of his gaze you could tell he was smiling.

"Always."

With a slight nod at him, Nick moved on to the next patient.

...

After staring blankly at the ceiling for a few moments, he picked up his phone. He had a new notification from the game. Opening the game he completed his daily tasks, and took a look at his character page.

He only needed 32 class points to upgrade his class from priest to arch priest, but the battles were lengthy, and his time was running out.

He closed the game, and called home.

______________________________________________

"That's enough! You need to stop boy!", an older doctor dressed in scrubs entered the ICU yelled at the young doctor doing CPR on a patient on the ICU bed, while the nurses looked on helplessly at the side.

"Not yet! There have been patients who came back after 100 minutes. Right now only 60 have passed!", the young doctor yelled back.

The senior doctor went to the head side of the bed and retracting the eyelids, flashed a light on the eyes of the patient.

"You did everything you could Nick", the senior doctor said, motioning him to stop, and handed him the flashlight. "It's time to see him off", he said and took a step back.

Nick climbed down the bed, out of breath, his brow glistening with sweat, his feet unsteady. Gently pulling back the eyelids, he shone the light in the patient's eyes.

Pupils fixed and dilated bilaterally.

He assessed the rest of the parameters, just as he had been taught, just as he had taught others to do the same.

Putting his hands on the bed, he took a moment to steady himself.

"Identity confirmed as Xxxxxxx Xxxxxxx, death confirmed on 31/10/20XX, at 11:26 pm".