Children of Saturn

Children of Saturn

The last four years have been hell, but if my efforts pay off, it will be well worth it.

I have spent God knows how many hours in many of those freakish purgatories of a cubicles surrounded by books studying for this damned entrance exam and I swear on every atom of my being, I will pass it.

My roommate Alexis swears that taking the entrance exam to Alferd University, the most prestigious medical institution in the world, is not worth the headache or the money. In her words, ‘who wants to pay to be surrounded by pompous, elitist jackasses who think their shit don’t stink’.

If she came from a family full of doctors, she would know that it is well worth the money- and those “jackasses” may save her life one day. Of course, having parents who threaten to disown you if you don’t get in may have a slight influence on me.

Besides, being a doctor has always been in my blood. Growing up with doctors, I have always been enthralled by the different cases my parents would talk about. My thirst for knowledge has always been insatiable, which aligns quite nicely with Alferd University's core mission. “Fames Scientiae”.

My parents would quote it often, especially when talking about their college days. They would smile at each other as if exchanging a secret. Wanting to follow in their footsteps, I’d ask about their experience at Alferd University, but I’d either get vague answers, be redirected, or simply say, ‘You’ll find out once you’re accepted.”

I remember one night before one of their “special events,” they attached a strange pin to their evening wear like members of some secret society. I just brushed it off as some fraternity or sorority thing.

I don’t know if it was my curiosity that fueled my desire to learn or my lifelong purpose to help others. As a child, I’d repeat, “First do no harm,” unable to remember “Primum non nocere”. I’d find wounded animals and swear to heal them. Eventually, I learned first aid to help my accident-prone friend who seemed to break a new bone each month.

During my last four years on the pre-med track, I volunteered every summer at the hospital where my parents worked, soaking up every morsel of knowledge I could. I was a sponge, ravenous to devour every clinical detail, hounding staff with questions.

I’ve sacrificed nearly every social event and weekend to wake up next to my anatomy, organic chemistry, biology, and physics textbooks. You name it, I inhaled it. And it shows-Dean’s List every semester, a 4.0 GPA, numerous awards. Yet still, this “world-ending or set up for life” exam has me gnawing my fingernails down to the bone.

Now, here I sit. Apprehensive. Seven and a half hours at the computer. Questioning my life decisions and second-guessing if this is what I’m supposed to be doing. I’ve worked so hard to get to this point, and the amount of pressure that I’m putting on myself is suffocating.

My palms are sweating, my gut churning. My mouth feels like I’m sucking on a cotton ball about to swallow my tongue. There is a reverberating pounding in my chest that has traveled to my ears. I can hear my blood cycling through my veins.

I look up. Mistake. The room spins. Double vision.

I sigh, telling myself, Ok, Julia, get a grip. Take deep breaths. You know this is only a physiological response to your mental state. Breathe in for five, hold for five, and exhale in five. Again. Again.

The ticking of the clock slows down, providing a slow melodic tune that syncs up with my heart.

I surrender to my brain and start the exam. Locked into autopilot mode, my eyes scan the screen. I know these answers. My brain relays the answers to the smooth mouse gripped tightly in my hand.

And just like that, it's over. Seven and a half hours gone. Every question answered. Gut in check. I mindlessly float out of the chair, leaving behind the years of pent-up stress coiled up like a rattlesnake ready to attack. My brain is scorched. I’m liberated. 100 lbs. of invisible weight. Gone.

I don’t remember how I got back to my room, nor do I remember packing up my things and waiting for my parents to arrive to take me home for the summer. I heard just a jumble of sounds that I suppose were words, possibly questions. All I wanted was sleep, and the most I could do was nod and smile.

It's been a month, and all I have done is sleep and check the mail every day, even on Sundays. No answer. No results.

The longer the silence, the more I question a redesignation to a convent.

Just as I was about to sell all my possessions and adopt a habit and robes, I go downstairs to find my mother staring at a letter in her hands.

“Is that what I think it is?” I slow my pace, hoping beyond hope that this is what I’ve been waiting for.

My mother slowly nods and extends the letter out, eyes fixed on me.

I eye the letter as if it’s a figment of my imagination, suddenly not wanting to open it as it will alter my future forever. It was better to live in limbo than feel my dreams ripped away.

The crisp white envelope gleams, the institution’s emblem embossed in the corner.

My finger slides beneath the flap. The paper tears-hopefully not my heart. The letterhead reads “Fames Scientiae”. My heart pounds through my chest as I realize this is the first official correspondence to me.

“Dear Ms. Julia Daniels,”. Oh shit, this is it. Do I dare to read any further? My eyes decide they are too impatient and quickly scan the first few words of the first paragraph. A bitter spark starts at the back of my eyes and travels forward to blur my vision. A blurry “Congratulations” was all I needed to forgo my habit. I knew my life would change from this day on.

Three months later

This is the pinnacle of my 23 years. I’ve waited for this moment since before I was even born. Maybe even before I was conceived.

I made it.

It’s the first day of classes. I stand at the foot of worn marble steps leading up to eight enormous white columns. Wings on either side stretch beyond the main stairs. The first landing to the left is granite, while the remaining floors shift to varying shades of white. Imagine an E shape of a building with the middle part being the main entrance. At the top of the columns forms the gable decorated with a neoclassical gable adorned with a Latin inscription, “Fames Scientiae”.

This shrine to knowledge, this altar of learning, has greeted so many world-renowned doctors, and now I’m about to join them. I should be intimidated, and I am, but my whole body is pulsating with expectation, hoping these ancient walls will welcome me.

I fill my lungs with pride.

I slowly make my way up the steps and approach the solid oak doors. At least 20 feet high and embedded with beveled windows that dance with a kaleidoscope of white lights coming from within.

I enter the foyer, and am overtaken by the sheer volume of the space.

Four dark leather couches were situated in the right-hand area of the main foyer. Beneath the sitting area, another deep crimson rug with intricate designs, probably from Morocco, spanned the floor as if blood had been spilled across the floor.

I slowly inhale, taking in everything about this new journey. A mixture of leather, almonds, and old stone wafts about, tickling my nose hairs. Then I noticed another smell. Almost metallic, that tinged the air. I couldn’t quite place it, but I know I’ve smelled it before.

The rapid approach of clacking heels on solid stone jolted me out of my stupor.

“Hello, you must be Julia Daniels, one of our brightest first-year students. I’ve heard so much about you.” An elegant, cool voice echoed against the walls.

I turn to see the most striking woman I’ve ever seen. Hair, black as coal, perfectly styled as if she appeared right out of a 1940s magazine. Piercing Caribbean blue eyes that could see right through me, tall and slender. Her black pencil skirt is nicely complemented by a white blouse, mostly covered by a black blazer. A plain outfit, but nothing out of place. Yet so elegant looking.

My face must have told her more than I was willing to admit.

“I’m sorry, where are my manners? I’m Dr. Scarlet Keseberg, the president of (NAME). I went to school with your parents, and even though you and I have never met, I feel I know you by the way your parents talk about you.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m just in awe of how grand and beautiful this place is. I’m a bit overwhelmed, but in a good way.” I extend my hand out to shake her elegant and manicured hands. I try not to notice how long and bloody red her nails are, but they reminded me of claws fresh with a recent kill. I dismiss my thoughts and uneasiness and smile.

“Once you get settled into your classes and you have a feel of how the semester will go, I’d like to invite you to a small get-together later in the semester. This is just for” she smiled, her eyes shining, hiding something unsettling, “our special students who come from a long line of doctors. Given your test scores, your volunteerism, and your hunger for knowledge, I’m sure you will fit right in. I’ll send you the details closer to the event.”

“Thank you very much. I would be honored to come, and I look forward to hearing from you.” Gushing my way through my appreciation.

She turns to leave, but pauses with a thought, her eyes more serious.

“Ms. Daniels? I would encourage you to have an open mind when it comes to the medical profession. There are many alternative methods to helping our patients, but not all of them are by the book. There are some things we just can’t explain. Those are miracles. Just some advice.” Her eyes soften. She winks and continues down the hallway.

I’ve heard of miracles happening that science can’t explain, but I’ve always questioned everything. Somehow, these words of advice resonated with me and filled excitement. I feel I know a lot, but what isn’t in books? If my purpose is to help my future patients, I must be open to other possibilities, no matter the situation. Even if it comes from an unconventional resource.

A few months have passed, and I’m pretty settled into my routine. I have a rapport with my professors, involved in a few study groups because holy hell! The classes are definitely more challenging, but I love them.

Dr. Keseberg’s comment earlier in the semester didn’t align with what was being taught in my courses because everything seemed normal. But I can’t help but still feel something off. The metallic smell on the first day still lingers through the halls, and I haven’t figured out where I know the smell from.

I receive an email from Dr. Keseberg about the small gathering she mentioned at the beginning of the semester. The invitation is kind of vague, but short and included the time and place of the event.

Dress: Business casual-all white

Date: Friday, November 11th

Time: 8:00 p.m.

Location: Bradley Hall, lower level

Bradley Hall is the farthest building from the main quad of campus.

All white? I hope I don’t spill red wine on myself.

November 11th

8:00 p.m. right on the nose. I should have shown up a few minutes earlier. Early is on time and on time is too late, my dad would say.

Built in 1848, Bradley Hall is one of the oldest buildings on campus. No classes are held here, but it's used as an admin building and has restricted access.

Dr. Keseberg greeted me at the door.

“Ms. Daniels,” she smiles, opening the doors. “I’m so glad you could come. Please let me take your coat.” She hands my coat to the attendant and hands me a glass of red wine.

She notices my hesitation. “Please drink up, it's been a long semester, and you deserve to relax a little.”

I take a few sips as she leads me down a dark wood-paneled hallway. At the end, two oak doors open up to a stone staircase. A cold gust of metallic air seeped inside my bones. There it was again. That smell. We slowly descend the winding staircase. Each step a little more difficult to follow. I hear faint voices echoing off the walls from below

As she led me downstairs, the smell only grew stronger. The scones were lit up in the stairway and only illuminated the next 10 feet in front of us.

At the bottom of the stairs, there is another set of doors that lead into a decadent room filled with velvet curtains around the perimeter. The layout is similar to a great lecture hall but much more posh. Below me are five terraced levels filled with rows of leather-bound armchairs that have bronze buttons adorning where they’re stitched together. Enough for about 100 people.

The metallic smell is at its strongest now.

“Ms. Daniels, I invited you here tonight because you have shown so much potential in your studies,” My professors and other people I’ve never seen before start to fill the seats as she continued, “your hunger for knowledge, your lineage, and your determination to help patients exhibit qualities we are looking for. You do want to help your future patients, don’t you?”

I feel a tinge of pressure and manipulation.

I nodded absently, not sure exactly what this gathering was. An uneasiness creeps up my body, my nerves start to fray, and my fight-or-flight response starts to kick in. Something is off, reminiscent of being in a dark alley, when you feel an unseen presence. Something is watching you, and your body can feel it. Your heartbeat thumps louder, and your lungs take shorter and quicker breaths.

“Dr. Keseberg, what is this gathering about?” The metallic smell is overwhelming my airways, filling my lungs, suffocating me. My vision becomes blurry, and my sense of orientation is lost as I look for the doors. How have they disappeared?

“Ms. Daniels, I’m sure your parents are very proud of all the accomplishments you've made and how much you have progressed. I would hate to tell them that you aren’t fully supportive of our institution and our exploration of the medical field.”

“I’m not sure I understand.” Looking around for a familiar face that wasn’t excited to be here.

“This gathering is for exploring a different avenue of curing patients. Through much research into the medical field and its history, there are different kinds of methods of, shall we say,” her white teeth slowly revealing themselves like a wolf about to pounce, “consuming knowledge. We pride ourselves in teaching and training the best doctors in the world, and the one way we can make sure we are taking on that knowledge is to be one with the patient.”

Okay, flight response just kicked in, and I’m slowly backing away from Dr. Keseberg.

Her face turns cold. “Julia, do you remember me saying to have an open mind at the beginning of the semester? If you really care about the medical profession, you will be open to alternative ways. Please take a seat. You will see for yourself how beneficial it is to one with the patient.”

I slump into the nearest chair, barely holding on to my faculties. My senses were screaming at this point, but I felt I had no other alternative. Maybe if I fake whatever I need to do, I can buy some time before I can find the nearest exit. If my body could cooperate.

The velvet curtain below is drawn apart, and from what I could make out was the underside of feet on a table. Then legs and eventually a whole body on a gurney, strapped down, and alive.

Dr. Keseberg approaches the patient and took out a scalpel and stares at me with her piercing eyes. She lowers her long elegant hand and starts to cut down the middle of the body. Nape to navel. The patient starts to thrash about, but the restraints are too strong for him to escape.

I sat there paralyzed. Unable to scream, to move. Whatever I drank, rendered me useless.

After a few moments, the patient fell silent and stopped moving.

“My dear colleagues, I would like to invite you to feast. Feed your hunger for knowledge and become one with our patient who will bestow upon us their energy, their knowledge, their soul.” Dr. Keseberg announced.

The bodies in the room slowly descended down to the body. My room turns red as I hear mouths slurping on the red river flowing from the body. Teeth gnawing on bone, ripping apart flesh and tendons like lions after taking down a gazelle.

My stomach revolted over the floor.

I was too caught up in the scene before me that I didn’t notice Dr. Keseberg, who was covered in blood.

“Ms. Daniels, this gathering is the first step into becoming one of us. To be part of the Children of Saturn society.” She pulled out the same badge my parents proudly wore. “You have a choice. Be a patient or join us.”

The metallic smell that permeated the air, hit every nerve in my body with realization. From the hospital- It was blood.

What have I gotten myself into? How the fuck do I fake being a cannibal?