iron lung

“My iron lung.”

I thought his whole ordeal had driven him mad, but I heard the terror in his voice. I tried to comfort him as best I could. He just rolled over and went back to sleep.

I woke the next morning to screaming.

“IT’S BITING ME!” Jason bellowed. Three nurses and a doctor came running in.

“What’s the problem?” They asked. “Is it pinching you? Can you still breath?”

Jason looked around the room in hysteria. “It’s taken my feet.” He was now speaking quietly. “Pull me out. Get me out.” A doctor started trying to pull out the ‘cookie tray’. “It won’t budge.” He said. “I’ll need some help.”

Jason started screaming again. “GET ME OUT!”

I now saw blood start to gather around his upper abdomen and in his mouth.

“IT’S EATING MY LEGS!”

A doctor and a series of nurses had grabbed on and started pulling. They had gotten him out a few inches. His shoulders were out now. Completely covered in blood. Jason did one last bellowing scream before passing out. Maybe he was already dead at that point. The doctor and nurses all yelled together “One, two, THREE.” And they yanked as hard as they could.

Jason was fully pulled out. Up to his belly button anyways. Everything below that was still in the iron lung. His stomach was covered in massive bite marks. From a “mouth” at least twice the size of a humans. There was so much blood. So much hysteria.

And then I started to feel something licking my legs from inside my iron lung. I let out a quiet “Get me out” before I fainted.

When I came to I was in a hospital bed. Breathing all by myself. A doctor looked at me. “You’re all better now. 25 days in that iron lung and now you’re all good to go.” He smiled.

“Jason.” I said. “What the hell happened to him? Is he…”

“We’re not going to talk about Jason.” The doctor replied.