Nicholas Vials: The Case Of Michael Vials

"I've got flowers for a—" the deliveryman paused, squinting at the tag attached to the package. "Madam Amberleen!" he shouted, hoping to disperse the crowd of nurses that had gathered around him.

"Emberline?" Elena gasped, her voice echoing in the grand hall. The dark oak walls seemed to absorb no thought, no whisper.

"Emberline, yes, that's it!" shouted the stout deliveryman.

"He's butchered my name, this man!" Emberline exclaimed, pushing her way through the crowd. "What has he got for me now?" she asked, addressing no one in particular. The small group of women parted, their curious gazes fixed on Emberline as she approached the bouquet in the deliveryman’s hands.

"What’s this?" Emberline asked again, her question still aimed at no one.

"You’ve got roses, Emberline," Elena chimed in, her tone playful, though her tightly stretched brows and lips betrayed a hint of disdain.

"She couldn’t have told without her eyes," someone muttered from the crowd.

Emberline turned her attention back to the deliveryman, who had crumpled the slip of paper in his hands. "For me? Who sent it?" she asked, worried it might be a mistake.

"Ah, yes! The sender didn’t leave a name," the man replied, slapping a hand against the bouquet as if to emphasize his point. "Now, if you’re not too busy yourself—" He shoved the flowers into her hands and wiped his palms on his trousers, wet from the rose stems.

"I’ll be on my way," he muttered, slipping out the door, leaving Emberline to examine the maroon roses. Their soft, sweet fragrance filled the room, enveloping every corner with the essence of a blooming garden.

"Will you keep your admirer a secret from us all?" Jill teased, nudging Emberline, who remained silent.

"Who could it be?" another nurse wondered aloud.

"It’s probably your father, or—" Elena interjected, "perhaps Mrs. Marshall wanted to surprise you before your visit to her house." Her dull suggestion went largely ignored.

"You didn’t tell us about any boy!" someone exclaimed as Emberline giggled, fueling the group’s growing suspicions.

"You sly fox! Keeping it hidden for so long!"

"I don’t know who sent it," Emberline replied with a mischievous smile, further provoking the teasing.

"Don’t lie! You must tell me at least," one pressed.

"She says it’s nobody—now stop pestering her!" Elena snapped, annoyed by the growing frenzy surrounding Emberline.

"Elena, why so sour?" Jill whispered.

"She’s never gotten roses before; that’s why," someone muttered unkindly.

Elena scowled. "I’d be surprised if you ever received tact, considering the sob that you are," she retorted before stomping away. She hoped Emberline might stop her or call her back, but Emberline seemed indifferent to her tantrum. A sting welled in Elena’s eyes as she left the hall.

---

Benjamin narrowly avoided colliding with Elena as he approached the door. The nurses, engrossed in their chatter, barely noticed him. He glanced down the corridor toward the door where Nicholas had locked himself. Should he investigate, or should he leave the hospital altogether?

His shirt collar felt suffocating, his sweat pooling under the oppressive heat. The nurses gathered around a bed, inspecting something he couldn’t quite see. But his attention remained fixed on the door further down the hall—a door that seemed to beckon yet repel him.

"Now!" Benjamin whispered to himself. "I must go now!" He darted past the nurses, their chatter serving as his cover, and climbed the stairs, repeating instructions in his mind.

"A screw-horned cat with scaly, pangolin-like paws," he murmured, but his imagination failed him, leaving the words empty as he reached the top floor. By the time he reached the boys’ dormitory, he was out of breath, his heart pounding from more than just exertion.

Benjamin scanned the hall, noting everyone who had seen him ascend. Baldwin sat recounting an exaggerated fishing tale, while Clyde lounged on a nearby sofa. It was the perfect moment.

He sprinted upstairs, burst into the room, and slammed the door shut behind him. His breath came in ragged gasps as he took in the room’s pristine state—a stark contrast to the chaos of his own quarters. Two beds stood at opposite ends, but he didn’t know which belonged to Nicholas. He hurried to the left bed and pulled out the trunk beneath it. Relief washed over him when he saw it was Nicholas’s.

Fumbling with the fastened sides, Ben clawed at the trunk until it sprung open. Inside was a mess of crumpled clothes, hastily packed. Despite the disorder, it was better kept than most. Ben plunged his hands into the pile, feeling for something cold and metallic. His search came up empty.

Squinting in the dim light, he tried again, digging deeper until his fingers brushed against something solid. The faint jingle of a chain sent a chill through him. He pulled it out, revealing a heavy emblem encrusted with a red ruby that gleamed like malevolent eyes. The golden figure resembled a horned cat, its scaly claws glinting even in the low light.

"Ah!" Benjamin yelped as the sharp talons pricked his skin, drawing blood from his wrist. He froze at the sound of a creak outside the door. Nicholas? The thought paralyzed him. He jumped to his feet, the chain in his hand, but the heavy insignia slipped back into the trunk. Oblivious, Ben slammed the lid shut and shoved the trunk under the bed just as Clyde appeared in the doorway.

"Nicholas sent me to grab something," Ben blurted.

Clyde ignored him, climbing into bed. "I don’t care quite frankly," he muttered, pulling the blanket over his face.

Ben wiped his brow, though his hands trembled as he clutched the chain. The golden emblem weighed had returned to its rightful place, but his mind went numb, unable to tell the difference in weight as he quitely left the room.