Innocent Devil’s Harem Ch. 22

tagIncest/TabooInnocent Devil’s Harem Ch. 22

Innocent Devil's Harem Ch. 22 — Kai's new MILF is in trouble.
Submitted: January 7, 2021 to Literotica (Copyright Kaizer Wolf)
Tags: harem, incest (brother/sister), supernatural, shifter, big tits, redhead, blonde, MILF
Hi there!
Thanks for checking out this story! This series is written like a novel, so be sure to start at Chapter 1 if you want to avoid major spoilers or confusion.
*****
– CHAPTER 22 –
Obviously, I was freaking out.
Avery's mom had begun having another seizure, the shaking mild, only for her heart to just completely flatline. And I had no idea if it was due to the inflammation on her brain from her head trauma, even despite the medical coma they'd put her in, or if it was actually my fault for giving her so much of my blood!
Fuck!
It felt like everything happened in a blur as I tried to remain calm, knowing I couldn't afford to really freak out and show everyone what I truly looked like. So I simply stepped aside and tried not to focus my thoughts, as seemingly every medical personnel on the floor all converged on our location.
The glass 'walls' next to the door actually opened up some to make a much larger entrance, and before long a portable cart full of equipment was brought, and several doctors in white coats were all joining the nursing staff as they began working on Michelle, giving her chest compressions and injecting her with drugs.
Within about a minute, there were easily fifteen people in the single room, a line having formed for chest compressions, as people switched off as they got tired, while another handful of people did various things and one of the doctors barked out orders.
They yanked down the front of her gown in preparation to shock her heart, exposing her breasts, and yet no one seemed at all concerned with her nudity, not even the men in the room. However, the shock never came, as they only continued to do even more chest compressions. It wasn't until a nurse announced, "We have a VT rhythm," after several minutes that the doctor finally approved a shock.
And then it was right back to chest compressions, seemingly nonstop.
The whole time, I stayed focused on listening to Michelle's heart, waiting for the fluttering sound to begin beating normally again, feeling brief hope when it sputtered in response to the shock, only to begin fluttering again.
Fuck, this couldn't be happening.
Was all this in vain? Did my sister and I just not leave the house soon enough? Should we have sped on the way here? Was it a waste of time for me to try talking to her first? To try compelling her first, even though she was unconscious?
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
I winced when I heard her ribs crack underneath the pressure of the repeated chest compressions, knowing it had to be loud enough that the medical staff heard too, and yet no one seemed bothered by it.
No, they were only focused on bringing her back to life, not concerned with the damage they might cause in the process. However, as it continued on, I could sense a change in the speed at which the staff moved, as if the initial urgency was wearing off, and it started making me even more worried.
More panicked.
Pulling out my phone, I just blindly put in a few keywords into the search bar, hoping to find out information that might give me hope, only for the very first article to make my heart sink.
Shocking a dead patient back to life was a myth.
Clicking the article, a quick glance at the first paragraph was all I needed to understand what was going on. The doctor's used a dose of adrenaline to get her heart fluttering again, but they couldn't shock it back to life. All they could do was try to shock an irregular rhythm, to encourage the body to correct itself.
The stuff I'd seen on TV was all a lie.
And if Michelle's heart fully stopped again, the only thing that might help — that might help — was chest compressions.
The actual recovery rate for flatline patients was extremely low, almost to the point of nonexistence. At least nine out of ten people couldn't be brought back after their heart stopped entirely.
Fuck.
And then the doctor spoke the words I was dreading.
"Okay, that's enough. Let's call it."
Fuck.
FUCK!
I dropped my phone and was suddenly standing among the staff even before my thoughts caught up with me, shoving people out of the way with more force than I should be using, moving faster than I should be moving.
"Hey!" someone exclaimed in alarm as I pushed them aside.
I focused on Michelle's exposed body, realizing that her skin was light gray, but not at all like my skin. Everything about her color screamed the obvious truth — she was dead. She had the skin color of a corpse, the skin around her eyes already looking sunken in and discolored, her exposed chest unmoving, her heart silent now.
Completely silent.
She was dead.
Reaching down, my mind blank, my vision blurry, I grasped the top of her gown just below her breasts and slowly covered her up, feeling lost as I did the only thing I could think of, wanting to give her some dignity even though I knew it would never matter to her.
Because she was gone, forever.
She was gone.
Someone placed their hand on my shoulder, gently tugging as if they were trying to get me to walk away.
If only…if only my blood had more time to work.
If only her heart had kept beating for a little while longer…
If only…
NO.
I couldn't accept this.
I wouldn't accept this.
If her heart wasn't going to do the work, then I was.
Because I didn't tire. I wouldn't tire.
I would force her blood to pump throughout her body as long as needed. Days even. However long it took. I'd never stop.
Never.
It wasn't until someone was practically yelling at me that I finally registered what I was doing — that I finally realized the motions I was making were thrusting my palms into her chest, giving Michelle chest compressions like I'd seen them do not long ago.
"That's enough!" a male doctor exclaimed. "I'm sorry, son, but she's gone. We've done everything we can. I'm very sorry for your loss, but you need to accept reality."
I ignored him, growing more determined as I pressed on her chest, hearing and feeling another rib crack underneath my hands from my efforts, trying to finetune the pressure I was exerting so I was doing it right without causing her even more damage.
"You need to stop," the same person said again.
I finally looked over at him, realizing it was the doctor who had been in charge, seeing the stern look in his dark eyes. It pissed me off to no end, causing me to struggle to keep my skin a normal color.
"Go fuck yourself!" I snapped. "I'll do this as long as I want! I'm not going to let her die!"
He seemed to react to my fury with his own. "She's already dead!" he roared back. "There's nothing more anyone can do for her!"
"We'll see about that," I hissed, focusing back down at my hands as I continued my rhythmic pace, knowing from the sound of her blood rushing through her veins that I was at least accomplishing that much — making her blood continue to flow.
"Someone get security up here," he finally said after a few seconds, walking out of the room aggressively.
I didn't know how far this situation was going to go, or how escalated it was going to get, but I knew I wasn't going to stop. No matter what, I wasn't going to stop.
Unexpectedly a nurse was standing in front of me on the other side of the bed, trying to get my attention as she pointed toward Michelle's face.
"Look," she said firmly, prompting me to finally give her my attention. "You see those dark spots on her skin? Those are called Tardieu Spots, and you're causing them. You're making them worse. Her family won't be able to have a proper funeral, because her skin is going to be purple and black everywhere!"
I knew what she was talking about, seeing the dark grayish-pink, purple, and even almost black patches appearing on her neck and face, as well as her arms too, but I didn't care.
I didn't care, because I couldn't accept this.
However, I knew this was going to be more difficult, when I heard a couple of security guards coming down the hallway, the unique sounds their equipment on their belts made tipping me off. I looked up when the doctor came in again, the one I'd been arguing with earlier, looking high and mighty as he ushered in the two security guards behind him.
Both of the men had dark skin and looked like they didn't take anyone's shit, except that one guy, the taller one, seemed as if he had a softer look in his eye than the other.
"It's time to leave, young man," the doctor said firmly. "These two gentlemen will escort you off the property."
Instantly, in that moment, I knew I had two approaches I could take, and I was going to try them both, starting with the easier one.
But it meant I'd have to dig deep and get real.
"Both of my parents died when I was thirteen!" I announced firmly, focusing on the guy with a more understanding look in his eyes, even as I continued to maintain my pace. "They died in a car accident," I continued. "And this woman has been like a second mom to me," I lied. "I can't let her die."
"Son," the guy I was looking at boomed in an authoritative voice, even though there was a slight gentleness to it. "You need to accept reality. The doctors and nurses here are good people. They don't give up until it's clear there's no hope of bringing someone back, and even then, sometimes they keep trying. She's gone. Just look at her, and you can see she's gone."
I wanted to tell them all to fuck off for calling me 'son,' but I knew I had to try playing nice first, just so I could buy myself as much time as possible.
"Then what's the harm in me trying?" I asked seriously. "If she's dead then I'm not hurting anything, now am I?"
The doctor chimed in then. "You're disfiguring her!" he snapped, only to turn toward the security guards, as if to elaborate. "When the body dies, the capillaries start breaking down and leaking fluid into the tissues. See all the discolored spots on her skin? He's doing that, and he's making it worse by trying to revive her. Now, if you'll please, escort this boy off the property. I've been told he's not even her family."
"And where is her family?" I snapped, just trying to delay for as long as possible now. "Have you stopped to wonder why I'm here when her so-called 'family' is absent? Just because she's not my blood doesn't mean I'm not family!" I added, giving the taller guy a pleading look this time.
He grimaced and then turned his gaze to the doctor, his voice low. "What's the harm in letting him wear himself out?" he asked seriously. "If he's already been doing this for ten minutes, there's no way he can keep this up for much longer."
I was shocked to hear that, unable to believe I'd really been doing this for that long. Had it really been ten minutes already? And if so, then what took them so long to get security up here? Was it because the nurse also assumed I might tire myself out and give up? Maybe did she vouch for me?
Then again, I did ignore them for quite a while before they threatened to bring up security.
As the doctor responded, sounding flabbergasted and irritated by the guard's response, I focused back at Michelle's grayish face, wishing I could just compel her to live. But I knew that had to be pure fantasy, even as crazy as it was that I could compel people in the first place.
However, unexpectedly, my eyes widened when I realized the patches on her skin were visibly disappearing, too slow for a regular person to notice, but after only focusing on her face for half a minute, I could tell a difference.
The discoloration was improving.
Yet, as far as I could tell, her heart still wasn't beating on its own, being completely dead. I had no idea how long it might take, but I needed to buy myself more time before things got physical with the guards.
"Just ten more minutes," I begged, focusing back on the taller guy. "Please, just give me ten more minutes."
The man looked at the doctor, who threw his hands up in the air in frustration. "Fuck, whatever! You're on babysitting duty, and I'll be sure to report this so when the family sues, they'll know it was your negligence and dereliction!"
He then stormed back down the hall, leaving me with the two guards, who both simply readjusted their postures as they watched me work, seeming almost uncertain if this was the decision they wanted to make. But it was the decision I needed them to make.
Time seemed to flow in a blur.
"How long are you going to keep this up?" the other guard finally asked, checking his watch. "It's been almost fifteen minutes now. I'll admit your endurance is impressive, but I think it's time you stop."
"I asked for ten minutes," I said seriously. "Please, let me have another five."
He took a step toward me. "No, you don't understand. It's been fifteen minutes, since we agreed on ten. You've been doing this for almost half an hour now!"
I couldn't believe what I was hearing, urgently focusing on Michelle again, surprised to realize that all the discoloration was completely gone. Now, she was just light gray, and the color didn't look so unhealthy now. Her skin didn't look dead anymore, the light gray almost seeming more like a natural healthy tan that lacked the traditional sun-kissed hue.
Yet her heart still wasn't beating.
Fuck, just fucking beat already!
The second guard began walking closer. "Okay, that's enough," he said firmly. "We're done here. Let's go nicely so we don't have to arrest you."
I gritted my teeth, wondering if I should just hold onto the bed and try one-arm chest compressions, while they attempted to remove me from the room, or if I should just go ahead and knock them both out, wondering which option would buy me the most time.
Because I was too invested at this point.
And nothing was going to stop me until she was back.
The man slapped his heavy hand on my shoulder, giving me a small tug as if he expected me to jerk back easily, only to seem surprised when I didn't budge from my spot. However, I knew that he could easily pick me up if I didn't grab a hold of something, and fast.
However, just as I moved to reach for the edge of the bed, I froze solid as her heart unexpectedly sputtered on its own. And then it sputtered again, almost sounding like a muscle cramping, followed by an uneven beat…
And then another.
And another.
Yet there was no machine chirping, or any indication she had a heartbeat, because they'd disconnected the wires that were detecting her pulse. As the man grabbed me more firmly this time, I shrugged him off even despite his significantly larger size, quickly identifying the appropriate wire and grabbing it, tugging on her shirt a little to reveal the circular stickers where they'd been initially stuck.
Snapping them in place at lightning speed, remembering from a brief glance earlier where I'd seen the colors go, thanks to my strong spatial memory, combined with the nodes having tiny pictures to indicate their placement, I clicked them all in place and the room instantly came to life with a mechanical beep.
Both men were behind me now, both of them immediately freezing solid when the device announced loudly that the woman I'd been working on for over half an hour was alive.
She had a pulse!
"Holy shit," one of them said, rushing to the doorway. "Hey!" he called out. "You need to come see this!"
I was surprised when the woman who ran into the room wasn't the nurse I was expecting, being someone else entirely. She took one look at the monitor, then focused on Michelle, as if to verify the wires were connected to her, and then turned right back around. "Get the doctor back in here!" she yelled. "Room 309 has a pulse!"
A sincere relief washed over me for half a second, before a heavy hand landed on my shoulder again.
"Okay," the shorter of the two security guards said firmly, even as two other nurses rushed into the room. "We've humored you long enough. Let's go."
I gawked at him in disbelief. "You can't be serious," I scoffed. "I didn't even do anything wrong! I mean, did I break the law by trying to revive a woman who is like a second mother to me?! Did I break the law by disobeying a doctor?!"
"No," he replied firmly, not at all amused. "But this is private property and the doctor has made it clear you aren't welcome. As I said, we've humored you long enough."
Everything inside of me wanted to smash my fist into this guy's face, but I knew that would quickly turn into me going to jail for real, for assault, instead of just being escorted outside. Glancing at Michelle again, both hearing the loud beeping and her actual heartbeat, I took a little solace from the fact that she was at least alive.
I just desperately hoped she didn't have another episode like that, knowing I wouldn't be able to help her next time. Maybe if I could just go ahead and ask Gabriella to watch over her, knowing that my girlfriend might have the stamina and the strength to do what I did in the event it did happen again.
But, in order to make that phone call, I first needed to get these guys off my back.
Sighing, I looked the guy straight in the eye and then intentionally softened my expression, knowing that they could have made this a ton more difficult than it ended up being.
"Thank you," I said sincerely, causing his hard exterior to crack a little.
He nodded, shoving his hand out in a gesture for me to begin making my exit.
Swallowing my pride, I did as he indicated, stopping just briefly to look up at the taller guy, not realizing how big he really was until I really had to look up at him. "And thank you," I repeated, knowing he'd heard me just a second ago. "Seriously, she's alive right now because of you guys," I lied, hoping that flattery would earn me some points.
The taller guy frowned at that, but then nodded and started leading the way toward the elevators, while the second one took up the lead. However, we didn't even make it halfway before the doctor from earlier came rushing down the hall, only to pause when he saw me.
"I hope you're happy!" he snapped aggressively. "You might have got her heart to start beating again, but after being dead for so long, she's guaranteed to have permanent brain damage! Don't think you brought her back to life!"
"Whoa!" someone unexpectedly exclaimed in alarm, standing up from the nurse's station. It was an overweight woman with dark skin, wearing what looked like a business suit, but a quick look at her badge showed she was a Chaplain. However, she was also holding a black phone in her hand, another woman speaking on the other line.
"Who in the hell said that? Dr. Hendricks? And to who? The kid?"
"Uh-huh," the Chaplain said, her tone almost chastising even though she didn't actually say any words.
"Put him on," the woman snapped.
"Dr. Hendricks," the Chaplain said firmly, holding out the phone. "It's for you. The On-Call Administrator would like to have a word with you."
Oh shit, I'd never seen the color drain from someone's face so quickly.
However, the spectacle was interrupted for me as the security guard behind me gave a small nudge to continue. Nevertheless, even as we resumed heading for the elevator, I could hear the woman on the phone chewing the bastard out for talking to me that way.
Granted, I knew he would probably be right under normal circumstances, and almost wished I could see his face in the event everything turned out okay and Michelle woke up seeming normal, but I had to agree that he was unnecessarily a complete ass.

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