Phenotype -- Part One

Quite an interesting tale you are spinning. Something that bothered me was that the Messiah was awake when he was dieing, I belive most patients that near death were put into a medical induced coma, I almost jumped out of my seat when he started talking.

But perhaps your universe, or with this special case is different, I would not know.

It will be interesting to see how you countine this, here's to more good work from you.

Thanks y'all. I've made some simple edits to it, and will probably make more major edits sometime in the future.

In other news, Part Three is also up.

Wow.

This is really well-written and interesting! Others have beaten me to all the nit-picking, but one suggestion I have is perhaps you could describe the hospital in a bit more detail? I didn't really get a vivid image of the character's surroundings. Like KJ said, hospitals tend to be immaculate places. I get the impression this is a very important, high-end hospital, so I imagine it as being almost scarily clean-overwhelming whiteness, harsh light, etc, and being full of high tech equipment.

The pace frustrated me a bit- by the end of the segment I was left with very little indication why the patient was a "Messiah" and what kind of society this was... but I know that's just me being impatient, I'm sure that part 2 reveals more about that.

So very nice work! The doctor's voice is very realistic and you have a fascinating, if creepy, beginning. ^_^

Just a few nitpicks (and they really are major nitpicks. This story would be great even if you just ignored them all).

His mysterious ailment has turned his usually tanned skin pale and dry, and he looks much skinnier than usual, little more than a flesh draped skeleton.

A mist the colour of a poorly tuned tv had consumed my sight and only carefully controlled breathing had brought me back into the room.

I take it and flip through a few of the pages, all of them dirtied and smudged by constant use

Thanks for the reviews guys. ^_^ I'll be sure to refer back to your crits when I come to edit this in a couple of days.

For anyone interested, Part Two can be found here.

(BTW: I've changed the rating of this part to R, because Part Two has potentially R rated material in it.)

I really liked this story, it had an essence of nature, and was flowing, i really enjoyed it, mail me if you have any more stories like this one...

A true masterpiece...

Quite an interesting tale you are spinning. Something that bothered me was that the Messiah was awake when he was dieing, I belive most patients that near death were put into a medical induced coma, I almost jumped out of my seat when he started talking.

But perhaps your universe, or with this special case is different, I would not know.

It will be interesting to see how you countine this, here's to more good work from you.

*waves* Yo, Sureal!

a transparent mask is placed over his mouth to assist his laboured breathing. His skinny chest rises and falls erratically under the blue hospital gown.

There are no injuries, no other signs of disease, no poison; there is no discernable reason as to why his body should be failing. Were it not for the fact that his organs are weakening, he would be a normal, healthy man of twenty-eight.

I’m dead to the sight now. Desensitised.

I adapted in a matter of days [s]though[/s].

I found that thinking of him as a normal patient, rather than as the Messiah, helped.

‘I’m staying tonight,’ I tell him. ‘I want to observe the patient throughout the night.’

There is always two specific doctors on-site,

He shifts in his bed and states, ‘You’re intending to stay here all night, Doctor.’ Despite the disease, his voice is as beautifully clear as ever; there is not even a hint of scratchiness to it, which would be expected given his condition.

And as a doctor to whom patients reveal embarrassing secrets and strip down for on an almost daily basis, I should appreciate that nothing he sees in my mind will be unacceptable.

I like it, I like it.

'I’m staying tonight,’ I tell him. ‘I want to observe the patient throughout the night.’

He chuckles, and as always I’m struck by how healthy he sounds. ‘You ask a dying man why he has trouble sleeping?’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘No need to apologise. We all say foolish things sometimes.’

‘Even you?’

He chuckles again. ‘Especially me.’

I jump a little and feel my heart rate increase as adrenaline is released into my bloodstream.

Although it shouldn’t, the idea disturbs me. The Messiah Scrys many, many people, so he knows what to expect in a person’s mind. He would anticipate, permit and ignore those dark, twisted, involuntary thoughts that flicker and fade through my psyche. And as a doctor to whom patients reveal embarrassing secrets and strip down for on an almost daily basis, I should appreciate that nothing he sees in my mind will be unacceptable.