Resurrected (Part One) (Book #1 of the Vampire Legacy)

Caitlin and Caleb follow the doctor down the hall and into his large, brightly-lit office, the morning sun streaming in through the windows.

  “Please, take a seat,” he said in his reassuring, authoritative voice, gesturing towards the two chairs opposite his desk, as he closed the door behind them.

  Caitlin and Caleb sat and the doctor walked around his desk, holding his file, and took a seat behind his desk. He adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, glancing down at some notes, then removed his glasses, closed the folder, and pushed it to the side of his desk. He folded his hands and rested them on his stomach, leaning back slightly in his chair as he studied them both. Caitlin felt reassured in his presence, and sensed he was good at what he did. She also liked how kind he had been to Scarlet.

  “Your daughter is fine,” he began. “She’s absolutely normal. Her vitals are normal, and have been normal since she arrived, and she shows no sign of having had any convulsions or seizures or any epileptic disorders. She also shows no signs of neurological problems. Given the fact that you found her unclothed, we also checked for any signs of sexual activity—and there were none whatsoever. We also ran a slew of blood tests on her, all of which have come back negative. You can set your mind at ease: there is absolutely nothing wrong with your daughter.”

  Caleb sighed in relief.

  “Thank you, doctor,” he said. “You don’t know what that means to us to hear that.”

  But inside, Caitlin was still shaking. She didn’t feel a sense of peace yet. If the doctor had told her that, in fact, Scarlet was positive for a medical condition, she would have, paradoxically, felt much better, more of a sense of ease: at least then she would know exactly what was wrong with her, and could discount any thoughts of vampirism.

  But hearing this, that there was nothing medically wrong with her, only deepened Caitlin’s sense of dread.

  “So then how do you explain what happened?” Caitlin asked the doctor, her voice trembling.

  He turned and looked at her.

  “Please tell me: what exactly did happen?” he asked. “I only know what the file says: that she had a fever yesterday afternoon, was sent home from school, that she ran out of the house, and that you found her on your lawn this morning. Is that accurate?”

  “There’s more to it than that,” Caitlin snapped, determined to be heard. “She didn’t just run of the house. She…” Caitlin paused, trying to figure out how to phrase it. “She…transformed. Her level of strength—it’s hard to explain. My husband tried to stop her, and she threw him across the room. She threw me across the room, too. And her speed: we chased after her, and couldn’t catch her. It was no normal ‘running out of the house.’ Something happened to her. Something physical.”

  The doctor sighed.

  “I realize this must have been very scary for you,” he said, “as it would be for any parent. But I can assure you again that there is nothing wrong with her. We encounter episodes like this from time to time, especially amongst teenagers. In fact, there is an age-old diagnosis for it: Conversion Syndrome. Formerly known as ‘hysteria.’ Fits like this can overwhelm the patient, and they can experience a surge of strength, and do things out of character. The state can last for several hours, after which they often return to normal. It is especially prevalent amongst teenage girls. No one knows its exact cause, although generally, it is brought on by a stressor. Did Scarlet experience any stress in the days leading up to the event? Anything different? Anything at all?”

  Caitlin slowly shook her head, still not buying it.

  “Everything was perfect in her life. The night before was her sixteenth birthday. She introduced us to her new boyfriend. She was as happy as can be. She had no stress whatsoever.”

  The doctor smiled back.

  “That is, she had no stress that you could see—or that she chose to reveal to you. But I think you’ve answered your own question: you said that she introduced you to her new boyfriend. Don’t you think that could be stressful in the eyes of a teenage girl? Parental approval? That certainly could have surfaced any latent stressors. Not to mention, her turning 16. High school, peer pressure, exams, SATs on the horizon…. There are an endless number of potential stressors there. Sometimes we don’t always know what sets it off. Scarlet may not even know herself. But the important thing is, there is nothing to worry about here.”

  “Doctor,” Caitlin continued, more firmly, “this wasn’t merely a fit of hysteria, or whatever it is you’re calling it. I’m telling you, something happened in that room. Something…supernatural.”

  The doctor looked long and hard at her, his eyes widening.

  Caleb interjected, leaning forward.

  “I’m sorry, doctor—my wife has been under a lot of stress lately, as you can understand.”

  “I’m not under stress,” Caitlin snapped back, sounding way too stressed and contradicting her own words. “I know what I saw. Doctor, I need you to help her daughter. She is not normal. Something happened to her. She is changing. Please. There must be something you can do. Someplace we can bring her.”

  The doctor stared at Caitlin, looking stunned, for at least ten seconds. A thick silence hung in the air.

  “Mrs. Paine,” he began slowly, “with all due respect, I work in the medical profession. And medically, there is absolutely nothing wrong with your daughter. In fact, I heartily recommend that she go back to school today, and put this whole incident behind her as soon as she can. And as far as your…ideas…I don’t mean to be patronizing, but may I ask: are you currently seeing anyone?”

  Caitlin looked back at him blankly, trying to understand what he meant.

  “Are you currently in therapy, Mrs. Paine?”

  Caitlin blushed, finally realizing what he was saying. He thought she was crazy.

  “No,” she answered flatly.

  He slowly nodded.

  “Well, I realize today is about your daughter, not about you. But when things settle down, if I may, I do suggest that you talk to someone. It can help.”

  He reached out, grabbed a pad, and started scribbling.

  “I’m giving you the name of a top-notch psychiatrist. Dr. Halsted, a colleague of mine. Please, use it. We all go through stressful times in life. He can help.”

  With that, the doctor suddenly stood, holding out the paper to Caitlin. She and Caleb stood, too, but as she stood there, looking out at the paper, she couldn’t get herself to take it. She wasn’t crazy. She knew what she saw.

  And she wasn’t going to accept the paper.

  The doctor held the paper out there, awkwardly, his hand trembling, for way too long, until finally, Caleb reached out and took it from him.

  “Thank you, doctor. And thank you for helping her daughter.”