Day 229

The red stood out against stark white of his otherwise clean shirt.
His ID badge splattered wit visceral remains as the chants of KILL THE PATIENTS KILL THE CUTS
faded to a vague background noise.

The pay cuts were the most drastic yet.
The government just kept taking and taking and they would stand it no more.
They decided to take back.

Every hour the cuts still stood, they killed another patient.
This standoff had been going on for almost a week.
They were running out now, had to kill several extra when the police tried to break in.
Five doctors were sent to find the next hourly kill.

By now only the quick ones were left.

Doctor Walsh heard half silenced crying coming from the hospital chapel.
As he crept in he gently closed the doors behind, paging Doctor Ford to wait outside.

His weapon of choice in this - 85 mcg of Midazolam, more than the average dose but they were
done helping people who refused to help them in return.

The man was crouched down, almost hidden but for the crisp blue gown he wore.
Walsh could just about see the tag on the patient's wrist, his hands were clutching his head.
His whimpering drowned out the sound of the doctor's approach.

Never even saw the needle coming.

As the patient lay squirming on the floor, growing hazier by the second, Walsh felt his pager vibrate.
Ford was in position outside, Walsh called out for help carrying the patient to the designated
execution area.

As Walsh slit the patient's throat and felt the life drain from them he felt a scalpel at his own throat.

KILL THE PATIENTS KILL THE CUTS echoed in his ears over the desperate pounding of blood
as he yelled as Ford who KILL THE PATIENTS KILL THE CUTS held the scalpel waiting for the
signal to KILL THE PATIENTS KILL THE CUTS end him.

They had run out of patients.

They had to cut more.

More and more.