The Paraplegic

By Lawrence Dagstine

When Herbert was told he had amnesia, he knew things were bad. When he couldn’t feel anything below the waist, he got scared. When the doctor told him he’d be paralyzed for life, he got depressed and wanted to die. After all, no one wants to be a paraplegic. But what made him crippled so suddenly? Did somebody do this to him? And if so, why? Now in the hospital, undergoing intensive surgery, little does Herbert know that the force responsible isn’t done with him, not by a long shot! Something’s coming back. There’s a little unfinished business to take care of, and it comes in the form of vampires.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lawrence Dagstine
• Release date: Jan 14, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301976515

Lawrence Dagstine

Lawrence Dagstine is a native New Yorker, video game enthusiast, toy collector, and speculative fiction writer of 25+ years. He has placed more than 450+ stories in online and print periodicals during that two-decade plus span, especially the small presses. He has been published by publishing houses such as Damnation Books, Steampunk Tales, Left Hand Publishers, and Dark Owl Publishing (of which he has a new short story collection being released in 2023 called The Nightmare Cycle). He is also author to numerous novellas and two previous short story collections from the 2000s era: Death of the Common Writer and Fresh Blood. His work is available on Amazon and B&N.com. Visit his official website, at: www.lawrencedagstine.com.Visit his Amazon author page, at: https://www.amazon.com/Lawrence-Dagstine/e/B001K8UG5KOr on Twitter, where he tweets about video games, pop culture, and other fun collectibles: www.twitter.com/ldagstineHe is a graduate of New York University in Journalism and The Science of Publishing.

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THE PARAPLEGIC

by

Lawrence Dagstine

The Paraplegic

Copyright 2013 - Lawrence Dagstine

Homepage: http://www.lawrencedagstine.com

Cover Art Copyright 2012 - Bob Veon

Smashwords Edition

All Rights Reserved

This story is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this story are either fictitious or used fictitiously. Any similarities to real people, either living or dead, are purely coincidental. No part of this story may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without permission from the author.

I realized I was going to die, but I wasn’t afraid. I couldn’t remember much, but it seemed painless, even tolerable. I tried to get my legs underneath me, but they wouldn’t go. I fought slipping off into unconsciousness. Overhead I could make out leaves and branches, swaying in the wind. Through blurry eyes I saw tall and thin trees, but recognizing anything else was difficult. For a brief moment my face felt numb, a sort of hot and cold tingling sensation. As if small insects were making a path across the gutters that ran from my mouth to my cheekbones. I was pretty deep. I rolled over and over in the moist dirt, looking for the direction of the sun up above. It would give me an idea what time of the day it was. But I couldn’t find it, and I suddenly found myself running out of breath. How long had I been here? It seemed like hours, and I knew I couldn’t hold out much longer. What a horrible way to die. They didn’t even fill the damn thing in, whoever they were. Then I relaxed my throat muscles, my head came free of the claylike soil, and I yelled for help as loudly as I could.

My body became weaker, and my eyes started to close on me. There was nothing I could do to prevent it. I muttered a silent prayer, and I think God heard me. I felt arms grab me, pull me up out of the earth, and in that instant could manage a quick glimpse of wilderness. I screamed in my thoughts to be careful, as if my back had been broken. Shit! I think it had. I had no feeling in one half of my body. It felt like I was paralyzed from the waist down. Whoever these rescuers were, they came out into a clearing and laid me gently in the grass near the edge of a highway, someplace rural. Now there were cornstalks and telephone poles. I barely understood what was going on let alone knew where I was. I heard someone trying to flag down cars. It’s a good thing they didn’t fill it in, a young male voice said. But who’d do such a thing?

Doesn’t matter, another voice said with urgency. He needs medical help, can’t you see that? This one sounded older, wiser.

Was there any ID on him?

"Nope. Naked as naked