Hollow Thrones : The Dark Abyss "Life On The Line "

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The morning in America was just like any other — slow drops of rain kept falling, giving life to the trees, grass, and everything beneath the sky. But the inside of Houston Methodist Hospital, one of the most advanced hospitals in Texas, wasn’t peaceful at all. The Emergency Room (ER) was tense. A patient had just been rushed in, stuck between life and death. He was suffering from a rare form of blood cancer called Acute Promyelocytic Leukemia (APL) — a type of cancer that affects the blood and bone marrow. It’s one of the few cancers that can be cured, but only if it's caught early and treated by highly skilled experts. Most regular doctors know about it, but only a few experienced oncologists or genius-level young researchers truly understand how to treat it properly. That’s what made this case even harder. Inside the ER, the man was sweating like someone burning up with fever. The oxygen mask over his mouth was the only thing keeping him breathing — like feeding a starving animal left on the streets. His body started twisting in pain, jerking uncontrollably. He screamed loudly, like someone totally out of his mind. The nurses rushed to calm him down, but it wasn’t easy. They called for the doctors, who were informed about the patient's sudden condition. The specialists reviewed his case and explained that surgery could help, but not right away. They needed to stabilize him first because his body was reacting too wildly to the pain. The staff quickly acted. They injected anesthesia to make him unconscious and Clexane (a blood thinner) to prevent any dangerous blood clots, which often happen in leukemia patients. This helped slow down his body’s extreme reaction and gave the doctors some hours to think clearly and plan the next step. This is called emergency stabilization — where the main goal is not to cure the disease right away but to save the patient’s life in that moment, to give him time and keep his organs from shutting down.

On the other hand, somewhere deep inside an underground bunker, someone was getting beaten by his master — or, let’s just say, his instructor. The reason? He had failed his mission. He was supposed to kill someone. Or at least paralyze them badly enough to push them into a coma. But things didn’t go as planned. It was clear from the start that this wasn’t just about revenge or hate — this was a mission ordered by someone else. Someone much higher, more dangerous. A mastermind hiding in the shadows. The kind of person who doesn’t get blood on their hands but gives orders from behind the scenes. The kind of person who pays others — hitmen, spies, hackers, manipulators — to do the dirty work while they remain clean in front of the world. The instructor wasn’t just angry — he was scared. Because failure meant punishment. Maybe even death. That was written clearly in the contract. If the mission failed, the person hired would be killed. But if the mission succeeded, he’d receive a huge amount of money — enough to live rich for the rest of his life. A tempting offer. A dangerous trap. In America, or any other powerful country, this isn’t new. Critics, elites, people with fake smiles and expensive suits — they do whatever they want, hiding behind power and fake charities, and covering up with perfect media images. They silence those who know too much. They erase those who disobey. Behind closed doors, they sign contracts soaked in greed and cruelty. Sometimes it’s a forced accident, sometimes a fake scandal, and sometimes it’s simply death — but covered so neatly that no one dares to question it. The instructor, without wasting more time, turned to another one. He gave the order.

On the other hand, in a high-security hospital room, a quiet tension filled the air. A group of senior doctors sat around a large glass table, flipping through scans, blood reports, and handwritten notes. The patient admitted in the ER was not ordinary — his condition was labeled under APL, a rare and aggressive disease that usually needed long-term care and very specific treatment. But there was something else that made the situation feel heavier. One of the younger doctors leaned back and said, “I’ve never seen anyone in that much pain. The way he was sweating and yelling… it wasn’t normal. It’s like his body was shutting down — but also resisting at the same time.”

One of the heads nodded slowly. His face was thoughtful, and his fingers tapped lightly on the table. “When pain becomes unbearable, it’s not just about the nerves being triggered,” he explained to the team. “The brain starts to overload. It releases stress chemicals, like cortisol and adrenaline, in huge amounts. The heart races. Muscles tighten. Breathing becomes wild. That’s why they scream — not just because of the pain itself, but because they’re trying to find a way to survive it. The mind panics when it can't process the suffering. And sometimes…” he paused, “the screams are the body’s way of trying to stay awake — to stop itself from slipping into unconsciousness.”

A silence followed for a few seconds

~~~

“Of course, this can also happen,” he added, “when someone is going through withdrawal from something powerful — like certain drugs, neurological shocks, or even memory-suppressing agents. All rare, but not impossible. Or it could be psychological — trauma that’s pushing the nervous system into chaos.”

Then, turning toward a colleague on his left, he asked, “Dr. Lynn, based on his vitals and scans, what’s your take? Do you think we’re just looking at pain — or something deeper at play?”

Dr. Lynn looked at the head doctor, then flipped through the latest report on his tablet. His face was serious. “Sir, I don’t think we should rush to surgery. Not with APL,” he said calmly but firmly. “Acute Promyelocytic Leukemia is aggressive, yes… but very sensitive too. If we touch the body wrong now, we could trigger internal bleeding. It’s a blood cancer — and in many cases, even a small cut can become fatal.”

The other doctors listened closely.

“His platelet count is dangerously low,” Dr. Lynn continued. “That’s why the patient is in this much pain — not just the cancer, but the complications it brings. Right now, his blood can’t clot properly. If we go in with surgery too soon, he might not survive the table.”

“We buy time,” Dr. Lynn replied. “At least 48 hours. We stabilize him. We feed him the right medications — All-Trans Retinoic Acid (ATRA) and arsenic trioxide. These two are our best shot at calming the blast cells and letting his body breathe a little.”

He looked around the room, then added, “I’ll also recommend supportive care. Dexamethasone, to prevent any swelling in the brain. And tranexamic acid to help reduce bleeding risk. We’ll monitor his oxygen, keep IV fluids running, and make sure his vitals don’t crash.”

Dr. Lynn shook his head slowly. “Then we’ll have no choice — but right now, it’s too risky. We’ll do daily tests. If his white blood cell count stabilizes and coagulation improves, we might avoid surgery altogether. But if internal damage is found, we’ll prep a controlled environment, full surgical team, and backup blood transfusions. Either way…” he paused, “our goal is to keep him alive for the next two days.” The room went silent again. Every second counted.

On the other hand, inside the hidden bunker, the atmosphere was just as tense as the hospital meeting room. This Tuesday in November was not just any day — at least not for certain people in America. For some, it was a day of hope… and for others, a day of fear. That’s why it’s said: “Someone else's reality is someone else's illusion. We are trapped by our own individual knowledge which we call reality — and it depends on the knowledge we have been given.”

The instructor stood still, eyes locked on the black-masked figure in the corner. One of his best agents had failed, and now, this was his final option. The person standing before him — tall, calm, and silent — had an aura that screamed training and danger. But even that was just an assumption. No one knew his full truth.

Still, the instructor had no other choice. He stepped close and said in a low voice, “Be careful. You’re the last one I could — and will — rely on. Don’t think about me. Think about your life. That person must die, no matter what. I’ll make sure the infiltration is safe. Trust me.”

The assassin gave a slight nod. Without saying a word, he opened a small black box. Inside it was a tiny vial labeled in red: “Toxic: Botulinum-X9.” A deadly toxin — rare, silent, and slow. Even anesthesia couldn’t cover its effect. It would shut down the nervous system bit by bit. No antidote. No mercy. Once injected, death would arrive within 24 hours — and even the strongest immune systems couldn’t fight it.

He closed the box, strapped it to his belt, and walked out without looking back. The mission had begun. The target was locked in his mind. And failure? Not an option. But as they say: “If you don’t give up, it doesn’t mean you’ll make it.”

Both sides were locked in a desperate race — a race where time had no mercy. Inside the hospital, doctors were fighting to keep a dying man alive, calculating every breath, every heartbeat. Each second mattered. Life was slipping, and they had only two days to reverse it. To them, saving him wasn’t just duty — it was survival, of their oath, of hope, and of something unexplainable pulling at their curiosity.

But somewhere in the dark, in silence, an assassin moved with the same urgency. His goal was clear — that man must die. No emotions, no delays, just a mission. To him, the man’s survival was a threat, a mistake that needed correction.

This situation was twisted and diabolical — but bitter truth.

For some, saving the life was everything.

For others, ending it was the only option. And in between, the patient — unaware of what fate was circling around him — lay in pain, caught between medicine and murder.

Author

Thanks for reading. Well my story is slow burn, long and comprehensive. l am a newbie and stating facts according to my individual knowledge. l hope you understand .

Author

And , my precious butterflies! . What do you think , would that assassin succeed or there is some fallen angel who could save the person . Drop your answers and don't forget , to vote , gift and subscribe . Take care ! 💓👋