“I don’t feel any better.”

“Because you haven’t had all of your treatments.”

“I feel sick.”

“You always feel sick, dear.”

“Not like this,” Markus says. Bianca knows it’s true. He’s pale and sweaty, a bit green around the gills. Gently, she pats the top of Markus’s wrinkled hand.

“I’ll call the nurse.”

“I’m tired of nurses. I’m tired of doctors poking at me and demanding tests.”

“You’re in the middle of an experimental procedure,” Bianca reminds, “if anything, they’ll want to poke at you more.” She leans over her husband, mindful of her aching back. Hospital chairs should all be replaced with recliners, in Bianca’s opinion. She’s far too old to sit in uncomfortable plastic seats for hours on end.

She presses the call button and settles back into the chair with a sigh. "You alright?" Markus asks, despite his own discomfort.

“Of course, love.” She is only fatigued and ready to be home. Their eldest son, Jacob, will arrive half an hour before visiting hours end to take Bianca home for the night. Then, he will pick her up at exactly 8:30 in the morning and bring her back to the hospital, just as he has done for the last month.

“Where is that nurse?” Markus grouses after a few minutes pass. Sweat pours off him and soaks the bedsheets. He is far paler, too. Bianca hits the button again forcefully. Markus has received two injections of Scyphozall Cure already, and he has not reacted this way before.

Bianca can’t help but feel a bit guilty. She encouraged Markus to try the so-called revolutionary procedure when it came out, since it would allow him to be treated while accommodating his fear of surgery.

Markus looks worse. His veins can be seen through his pallid skin, and all of the sweat makes it look like he’s melting. Bianca stands from her seat, giving the call button another press on her way to the door. She peeks into the hallway. It is empty. All of the Scyphozall Cure patients are in their own special wing and the doors to the other rooms are always shut.

“Nurse! Doctor! Hello! My husband is having a reaction!” Bianca’s voice echoes down the hall. Nobody comes. Markus groans. Bianca turns to reassure him before she ventures out to find somebody on staff, and screams.

Markus is a trembling, translucent lump. His arms are limp and his fingers have started to congeal together. His head is melting into his neck, which is melting into his torso. Where the top of his hospital gown has slipped from his receding shoulders, Bianca can see his heart beating through his skin.

“Bian… ca…”

“Nurse!” Bianca hollers, frozen with fright in the doorframe. “Nurse! Nurse!”

Two nurses rush in, crowding the bed with equipment and hurrying to restrain Markus. As they block Bianca’s view of her husband, all she can think of are the sweet little jellyfish pictured on the cover of the Scyphozall Cure pamphlet.

Simona Casale

Simona Casale is an aspiring editor and fiction author. She hopes to one day have a career as both, as well as to run her own small business.