Caleb POV

December 3rd, 2026

12:01 am

The whisper begins the cycle.

I close my eyes, listening, bracing.

I can almost see her ghostly form in the forest from my dreams.

I open my eyes and glance at the clock again, muttering, “Sooner than usual, calm your ass down, ghostie; I am not dealing with you more than twice an hour.

I have been on shift two hours already. Honestly, for a Thursday, it's not a bad night. Just feels like it's part of an endless line of Thursdays.

 

Typical kinds of patients. Shortness of breath, chest pain, and an infected toe they probably should have taken care of days ago.

Some poor guy came in with an infected tooth. He's been silently crying over in his curtained-off section as I wait for the pharmacy to send over the nerve block supplies.

I can hear a louder-than-usual voice out in the lobby. I really hope security isn't needed.

I am filling out a patient chart when I see the pharmacy guy bring the supplies.

“Oh, thank you. Busy tonight?”

As I sign what I need to and scan my I.D. for the system.

“Oh, not too bad, just had a hold up on the order. Doc forgot to sign it.

I give him a nod; same thing happens all the time. Can't blame the Doctors; they are just as busy as the nurses.

Vanessa used to rant every night about the impossible pile of virtual paperwork she had. I would usually just give her a coffee and rub her shoulders.

"I know, Dr. Varma, but you're so good at checking those boxes."

She would roll her eyes and playfully nudge me.

That was our dance.

I'm smiling as I motion to the resident on shift. Dr. Henson. Decent guy. Cares about his patients. Though he’s like all of us who have been here a while, we've learned we can't let the job get to us.

He's by the nurses’ desk chatting with a couple of the younger nurses. Ok, they are probably my age, but I've been here longer.

We both make our way over to the patient. I set out everything he needs to perform the procedure.

Vanessa used to try and get me into medical school. She was convinced I'd make a good doctor. My bank account insisted I'd been lucky just to pay for nursing school. I refused to let Vanessa go through with her offer to pay.

Dr. Henson explains the procedure then expertly performs it.

I feel relief right along with the patient as I watch the tension melt out of his face at the first sign of the pain easing.

Dr. Henson waits a moment then says.

“Alright, that will give you maybe Twenty-four hours of taking the edge off. Please make that follow-up appointment. “

Dr. Henson looks to me as I'm cleaning up. “Caleb, make sure that information is in his discharge papers. “

“Sure thing”

Dr. Henson heads off to the next place he's needed, perhaps back to the nurses. A lot of our nights are spent waiting on test results.

Looking at the patient. “You feeling better, bud?”

The patient is relaxed back on the chair for the first time since he got here. “So much better…”

I smile and give him a thumbs up. “Awesome, you hang tight and I'll get those papers for you. Need a work excuse?”

The patient nods, and I go to take care of what's needed.

I print out the paperwork and am placing patient stickers in the proper places when Traci, fellow nurse, comes up to me.

“Hey, you got a minute?”

“That depends…”

“Got some loud guy bleeding all over the lobby asking for only a male nurse.”

Of course he is…

“He give a reason?”

“Said his wife is the jealous sort.”

“Well, tell him not to bleed out while I discharge this patient. I'll just be a sec.”

I get tooth guy handled and walk him out to the lobby. The scene that greets me is not quite chaos, but it's getting there.

A dark-haired man, maybe around six ft. or so, is holding a bloody towel to his arm, dripping slowly on the tiles. Traci is trying to get him to sit down, and he is practically dancing around her, avoiding her as he speaks to registration. He has a thick French accent that seems to be getting thicker by the moment.

Trying to lighten the mood and hopefully get the guy calmer, I say in my most West Virginia hillbilly accent I can. “Bonjour, can I maybe get you settled and we take care of that arm?”

Traci and the man give me bewildered looks. The man then laughs a genuine laugh and says. “Finally, someone listens.”

Traci shakes her head and heads back to the desk. “I'll call housekeeping.”

I check the guy's wrist for a band; seeing one, I say.

“So I'm Caleb. I'm the only guy working tonight, so you are stuck with me for better or worse”

The man seems unfazed and actually grins. “Name is Lucien Moreau. Seems I had a disagreement with a knife and just can't get it to stop bleeding. “

I glance to the bloody towel, then lead him in to the ER.

“Well, let's see if we can't get that stopped for you.”

Once I find where we can put him, I grab the supplies I'm going to need and lead him to the bed, pulling the curtain closed.

“Ok. We are going to clean you up and try and keep you from bleeding too much more before the doctor gets here.”

As I look at him I see he's staring at my arms. Of course he is. The black stripes are hard to miss.

“The hospital not mind such extensive ink?”

I shrug and move to get the towel from around his arm.

“Not ink, birthmarks.”

His arm has a very deep gash in it. I try very hard not to react, but a sharp intake of breath escapes me as fresh blood begins dripping again. “How did you do this?”

“Oh, that… is a long story.”

I work to irrigate the wound, looking for any debris or dirt.

Lucien seems unbothered and continues his assessment of me.

“So those teeth natural too?”

I look at him, making eye contact, letting him see my amber colored eyes, knowing the slit pupils will be noticeable. “Eyes too. But right now you are the important one. I'm just the guy helping to patch you up.”

He shrugs some.

I keep looking at his arm, something isn't adding up.

The angle of the cut seems odd.

Dr. Henson comes in at that moment.

“What have we here? I could hear you through half the hospital. “

Lucien laughs.

“My apologies, Doctor. My wife she is... Jealous. Afraid some pretty nurse will steal me away. “

Dr. Henson gives him a knowing nod, then moves to examine his arm, saying.

“Ah, well, we do have some pretty ones around, not to discount our fine guys too. One thing I can say about them, everyone is professional around here.”

I grin as I hear him, good ole Dr. Henson, never one to let his coworkers be accused of anything inappropriate.

Even when he did accidentally catch a nurse and doctor a little too excited about their new dating status in an unused exam room.

I prep the suture kit, it’s clear that cut is going to need it.

I am used to patients turning their attention to the doctor once they are in the room. Lucien, however, can’t keep his eyes off me.

Ok, I get it, tiger guy is interesting.

But most get bored after the first couple minutes.

I don’t really do anything interesting; well ok, I do make noises, but not on the clock if I can help it.

At home, sure. I actually love it that my brothers and I, and Dad when he’s around, all have a wordless system of sounds we make between us. Mom will “talk” to us too, but her vocal cords are human, so she just mimics us.

I can be sitting and watching TV and hear Noah make his “hey, you alive?” sound, and without thinking, reply with my usual response sound. To outsiders, we sound like a zoo.

For us it’s home.

Dr. Henson turns to me, looking for the kit, and smiles, seeing I already have it ready.

Lucien seems unbothered by the process.

Strange; his skin is very smooth. For a man so comfortable with getting sutures, he seems untouched.

The whisper returns, a little louder than usual.

Then, oddly, I swear Lucien flinched at the same time.

Impossible, only me and my brothers have heard it.

Why would this guy?

I must have imagined it, right?

He catches my eyes. “So how long has the hospital employed such an interesting nurse?”

Dr. Henson answers for me; he’s used to people speaking to him, not me.

“Oh Caleb here has been with us for eight years. And we are lucky to have him.”

The second half of the whisper comes. ...obey... Lucien's lips move. Barely. So slightly I almost convince myself I imagined it. Obey. Did he... No. Now I know I must be crazy.

Lucien’s eyes shift a moment. Before, he had been behaving very nonchalantly. But this moment, he’s focused.

“Oh, then he was around back when that doctor was killed?”

Vanessa.

My stomach drops.

Almost seven years ago.

Why would this random French guy know about it?

Dr. Henson knows exactly who he means too. They had been close friends.

He hesitates in his reply.

“We both were. Truly tragic. She had a real future ahead of her.”

Lucien nods, “Ah, my apologies, I do not mean to bring up bad memories. I just happened to see it mentioned in some research I was doing.” he smiles, almost too easily. “I am a journalist; I am working on a piece about murders in small cities. “

I don’t hate people. I believe almost everyone at their core is just trying to do their best.

I hate journalists.

Journalists take the most fantastical element of a story and run with it.

Case in point. Four unexplained murders. Each one attached to four brothers who happen not to be totally human.

They didn’t look for answers; they looked for views.

I keep my usual warm but neutral smile.

I am his nurse, not Caleb Sato, who got dragged through the mud while grieving my girlfriend and supporting my brothers in their losses too.

Dr. Henson nods as he expertly ties the sutures.

“Ah well, I am sure you have seen; we do get our fair share of killings, sadly.”

“Ah yes, it was interesting, seemed to be a serial killer, yet it was only those five.”

Five?

Oh, he means Tara.

Tara was different; there was a witness to that one. And hers was like an animal attack.

Vanessa and the others were almost surgical, like the person took their time.

I speak up, “That fifth one wasn’t deemed connected.”

Lucien smirks, looking at me.

“Ah yes, you would know that quite well, wouldn’t you? You and your brothers…”

Dr. Henson cuts him off.

“The Sato brothers were cleared of all suspicion. Caleb, in fact, was with me all that evening.”

Lucien looks at him. I can see the gears working behind his eyes.

Suddenly I know why his cut seemed odd.

It was angled as if he himself did it.

I am the only male nurse on shift.

This guy sliced his own arm deep to come talk to me.

I have to stay professional.

But I need to clue Dr. Henson in.

“So the knife slip while you were holding it?”

It’s not subtle, but it’s not obvious either.

Lucien laughs a little, glancing to his arm as Dr. Henson is about halfway through the dozen stitches.

“Oh, well I suppose you could say that. Teaches me not to play with dangerous things.”

I look at him a little more intently than I mean. “A good lesson. Even the ones that seem not so dangerous can surprise you.”

Dr. Henson has caught on and does his thing of trying to diffuse.

“Ah well, yes, we do want to avoid danger. I suggest perhaps leave the danger to what you write about. You will probably live longer.”

At that Lucien laughs a very dry laugh.

“Oh my dear Doctor, if you only knew…”

We both look at him, very confused.

He recovers.

“Do not worry about me. I have lived through quite a lot. Danger just comes with the job.

Dr. Henson finishes the sutures. Giving the wound one last check. He turns to me. “Caleb, care to get Mr. Moreau a dressing, and I will see about getting him discharged.”

He looks to Lucien with a polite grin. “Good luck with your research, and do avoid the dangerous things; I would hate to have to patch you up more.”

He claps him gently on the shoulder, then makes his exit.

I get the supplies to begin cleaning up any remaining blood, reaching gently for his arm.

He’s watching me again, not unusual; most people are interested in their care.

Though now he’s on my radar, I can feel his eyes watching my gloved hands closely.

Then he speaks, “No claws?”

“Hospital standard is no long nails. I’d look terrible in acrylics anyway, not my style.”

“I meant natural.”

I start applying antibiotic ointment to the area.

“Oh, I know.”

Lucien shrugs a little.

The question feels like it’s resting behind my teeth.

Do you hear it?

But I would look crazy trying to explain if I were wrong.

There’s no way, only my brothers and I hear it.

Still, what if…

I am about to speak when he says,

“That fifth one, she was a family friend of yours wasn’t she?”

At this, I meet his eyes.

"Listen, I suggest you leave the Sato family out of your research." I smoothed the edge of the dressing against his arm. "And whatever it took to get yourself into this room tonight..." I looked him in the eye. "...don't do it again."

He looks back at me and grins.

"I am no danger, mon ami." He smiles. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Too smooth. Too practiced. Then he calmly turns his arm over, inspecting the dressing like he'd forgotten he'd cut himself to get in here.

“I do thank you for the excellent care. A fine example of small-town hospitals.”

Grinning at me again.

I give him a polite smile, then say. "

“Let me check on those discharge papers for you.”

 

As I get to the desk, Dr. Henson is standing there, holding out the papers.

“Pay him no mind Caleb; journalists always do stupid things to get what they think is an exclusive story.”

I take the papers, lifting my shoulders some.

“It doesn’t bother me really, just unbelievable he would do that. That came close to an artery. I am not that interesting to talk to.”

Dr. Henson chuckles. “Well, you are once you have had a few in you. Which reminds me, we really must do another karaoke night; I do miss your renditions of Eye of the Tiger.”

I laugh and shake my head, walking away. “You arrange it, I’ll show up. “

Coming back, I can hear Lucien speaking through the curtain.

“No, Nia, Daddy will be home soon. I am fine. You tell Maria that Daddy says you can have that ice cream I bought yesterday.”

He pauses; I can hear a muffled voice that sounds like a kid, though I can’t make out her words.

“I know you hate the hotel, but we will go home soon, I promise. Daddy just has a few more things to look into.”

I decide I’ve snooped enough; he only got some information out of me, now we are even.

I speak up, “Knock knock”. As I open the curtain, holding out the papers.

He has his phone to his ear still and holds up a finger to me.

“Nia, Daddy must go. I will be home soon.”

He ends his call then reaches for the papers.

“If it would make you less apprehensive, you and I could perhaps have a coffee once you are off work?”

I shake my head.

“I try not to meet up with patients, keeps things simple.”

“But you could see half the city through work?”

“Keeps my social life simple too.”

He tilts his head in a ‘fair” motion.

“Then I wish you a good life Caleb Sato. Thank you again.”

I give him a wave.

“Peace, love, and lots of chocolate.”

 

Once Mr. Moreau is seen out, I resume my usual duties.

Getting patients settled in their spots, checking vitals, seeing if there’s anything I can do to help their wait on the doctor any easier.

My lunch comes around a little after five. I stick to high protein and keep the carbs down. Nobody's ever really figured out what we are, but the similarities to tigers are hard to ignore. I still eat vegetables—I do have molars—but meat has always been where I feel my best.

Marcus eats whatever someone puts in front of him. Noah seems convinced sugar and energy drinks are a complete food group. Danny actually pays attention to what he eats.

Unlike humans, we can't convert beta-carotene into vitamin A. We need the real thing from animal tissue. I get mine through food. Noah relies on chewable vitamins and optimism. One of these days I'm going to get to say, "I told you so."

I am warming up my meal: chicken livers with a side of roasted steak strips and a light handful of steamed greens, and finally get my phone out of my pocket. I keep it on Do Not Disturb on shift. The people who matter know to call the hospital.

Five in the morning isn't exactly prime dining time, but working nights means breakfast, lunch, and dinner are mostly suggestions anyway.

I see the usual family chat has been going on as usual.

Marcus being a menace, posting cat memes, comparing them to us.

Ok yeah, some of them do seem like us.

I am not opposed to a good sun spot.

I check my Ruckus, the messaging app I use for gaming, and see that Nebula, my online girlfriend, has sent her usual good morning text. A gif of two cats snuggling.

She has never missed my lunch break. Somehow, despite living two time zones away, she always seemed to know when I'd finally sit down.

She still doesn’t quite believe me that my stripes and everything are real. Ironically, she always plays cat-like races in whatever game we're obsessed with at the time.

I send her a gif back. This one of a guy kissing a girl good morning.

She responds almost immediately; she knows my schedule well, even if she’s across the country.

“Hey love! Shift going ok?”

“Yeah, going fine. Had some weird guy, but I think things are ok.”

“Weird how?”

“Oh, just asking some things he didn’t really have business asking.”

I have not told her of Vanessa or the other murders.

“Oh, well you be safe. Maybe tell security?”

“I don’t need security; I have Marcus.”

“Marcus can’t always be there.”

“I promise I’ll be safe.”

“Ok hun, I just worry about you.”

“Hey, you get that art commission done?”

“Oh yeah…”

Our conversation continues with her describing the project she was working on. She makes her living doing freelance art, which is probably why she’s able to keep the hours she does to talk to me.

I eat my lunch and message back and forth with her.

We have only been a couple for around a year, but she’s become a comforting part of my life.

My brothers tease me because she’s long-distance, and we are technically only online. She actually has a husband, who is one of our gaming buddies. They are poly and encourage each other to have other loves. Though our relationship exists entirely online, she and I are exclusive.

I have considered looking for someone who lives close, but really, between work and Nebula, I wouldn’t have time for another relationship.

Besides, there’s always the matter of finding someone cool with me being different.

I have to see how Sammy treats Danny and keep quiet.

Though Sammy isn’t the rule.

In fact, all four of us had someone who accepted us before…

Vanessa was a bit surprised by the tail. I always keep it tucked in my scrubs at work for sanitary reasons.

That first time clothes came off… was interesting.

I’ll never forget the way she paused mid-kiss. Her hands had wandered behind me, and for just a moment I was sure she was going to pull away. Instead, I felt her gently stroke along my tail, tentative, almost curious.

“Well that’s something…”

“Yeah… um..”

“Do you like it to be touched?”

“Yeah, a lot”

The rest of the evening went really well.

I am reminded I’m at work when I feel my tail trying to flick happily at the memory, straining the leg of my scrubs.

I laugh a little to myself as I rinse my container and pack it away.

I send Nebula one final hug and kiss as I always do, then put my phone away.

Time to get back to work, hoping that Lucien is the most excitement I get for the night and it stays Quiet.

“Caleb! We got an incoming trauma! ETA five minutes!”

Oh, well, apparently even thinking it is a curse.

"Trauma One!" Dr. Henson called out, already snapping on fresh gloves as the automatic doors hissed open.

The EMS crew burst through, shouting stats over the blare of the heart monitor. "Thirty-year-old male, unrestrained driver, high-speed rollover! Crush injuries to the chest, massive blood loss from a severed femoral—he's sliding fast!"

My brain switched instantly out of break room mode. The raw metallic scent hit my nose first—sharp and heavy—but after years of this kind of thing, I’m not affected. I get my Mask on and move.

"I've got the femoral pressure!" I call out, moving into position.

Holding manual compression on a deep arterial bleed is brutal. Most people need to cycle out every couple of minutes before their arms give out. I lock my core and keep the pressure steady. My arms don't tire as easily. Being a tiger guy has its advantages. Sometimes that's enough to save a life.

"Suction!" Dr. Henson barks, reaching into the wound with a curved vascular clamp. "Hold steady, Caleb... right there... got it."

The metallic click of the ratchet locking onto the artery echoes over the monitor alarms. Instantly, the violent, rhythmic pulse beating against my palm dies down.

"Pressure held," Dr. Henson says, stepping back to let the tech wrap the hemostatic packing. "You can ease up, Caleb."

I slowly lift my hands, my gloves soaked in dark crimson. My forearms are slightly tight, but I wouldn’t say tired. I step back from the bed to let the surgical team take over, taking a deep breath through my mask as my blood-pumping adrenaline finally begins to settle.

I quickly get some fresh gloves on and assist however I can in getting the guy to surgery once they have him stable enough to transport.

As I stand in the quiet trauma room watching the team disappear through the double doors, I’m left with that same eerie feeling I always get. That guy might make it. He might not. But for a moment his life was literally in my hands. To some people, that might freak them out.

For me, it’s Thursday.

And I still have other patients to take care of.

The other half of my shift goes fairly uneventfully.

Packed as always; that’s just the reality of being one of the only major hospitals in a large radius.

I make one last check of all the current patients.

Make sure all the paperwork is sorted. Then go to change out of my scrubs.

The locker room smells clean with just a hint of someone’s gym bag.

I sometimes wonder how other people experience the world. Growing up, I honestly thought everyone could smell a gym bag from halfway across the locker room. It took me years to realize our senses were simply... better. Mom used to wonder how we always knew she'd hidden snacks somewhere. Dad would joke, "Don't tell her the secret. Then we can always find 'em." Mom eventually figured it out. Mostly because Dad kept giving himself away. Little things, like commenting on scents nobody else could possibly notice. Flashlights were practically banned after the night the power went out and Mom nearly blinded him.

I chuckle to myself remembering how he cursed after she'd accidentally hit him square in the eyes with the flashlight.

“Gawddammit Emma! I can already see!”

I pause a moment after stepping out of my scrub pants, letting my tail sway and flick, shaking off twelve hours of confinement. I envy people who don't have to navigate around a piece of their spine inconveniently existing outside their body. At least I don't spend much time sitting at work.

I get changed into my usual modified jeans and a graphic tee.

Nurse Caleb is off duty.

Now I’m just some random dude with stripes and a tail.

Heading out with my duffel over my shoulder, I give a wave to Dr. Henson, who was well on his way out the door as well.

He gives me a nod and says, “Enjoy your days off, get some rest.”

“Plan on it. I am getting into PJs and not coming out for 3 days.”

"I'll believe it when I don't see you picking up overtime tomorrow."

I call over my shoulder, laughing.

“My phone is going to be broken for the next three days.”

Greg, off the clock now, gives me a thumbs-up.

I don’t actually have a car, but home is only a couple of blocks away.

Mom hates the idea of me walking Charleston’s streets.

She forgets that even if I'm not as big as Marcus, I can growl too. It already talked one would-be mugger out of making a very poor decision.

Walking along the empty sidewalk, I take a moment to look around; at this end of town we don’t have foot traffic really. Occasionally people go through, but it’s not a hub of activity. The center of town is much more lively, though still far more empty than a big city would be.

I think that’s why my eyes fall on the figure leaned against the building.

It’s not unexpected to see someone, but something about this guy…

The whisper practically screams in my head.

White pain explodes behind my eyes.

I find myself on my knees before I realize what’s happened.

The pain in my head makes my vision double.

She completes her cycle, and I can breathe again.

I use the rough feel of the concrete to ground myself.

I have never felt that amount of pain from her.

In fact, she didn’t really bring pain until around a week ago.

Before that, it was more just a pressure.

I look to where the man had been.

He’s gone.

I feel my phone go off in my pocket.

Standing back upright and collecting my bag, I check what the notification was.

“When she speaks, think very hard: NO. It eases it some.”

I can only stare at the message with my mouth open.

I look at the number.

Unknown.

I look for the man again. He must have something to do with this; he saw me, he had to have.

But how would he have my number?

This is making no sense.

Lucien?

No, that man was much smaller.

Short and a bit stocky.

Dressed different too.

Lucien was in a casual shirt and jeans.

This guy had a leather jacket.

Looked like black pants.

I realize I’m standing on Washington Street with dirty knees and a throbbing headache.

I better get home.

I spend the next couple blocks watching for the man. And for Lucien. I don't put it past him to follow me.

Getting inside and up the stairs, I breathe a little easier.

I find Danny standing by the fridge contemplating either life or lunch.

He’s got a pained look on his face; the whisper must have done the same to him.

He looks to me and gives a soft chuff then says “You feelin ok?”

I return the greeting then say “Yeah, you feel something different that last time?”

He sighs and closes the fridge, having not made a choice.

“Yeah, hurt like hell.”

He looks me over, pauses as he sees my knees, then looks in my eyes, saying, “You sure you’re good?”

I set my bag down by the door and walk closer, taking out my phone.

“Physically, I’ll live. But look at this…”

I show him the text.

he pauses a moment then pulls his own phone out.

“Wait a sec…” he pulls up a text on his phone. Compares them.

“That’s the same number…”

I notice that they had addressed Danny but hadn’t answered his question.

“You have any idea who it is?”

He shakes his head. “No clue, but how the hell do they know us, and about the whisper?”

I go to the fridge. My hand hesitates over a beer, but I reach instead for a water, turning and saying, “That’s somehow not the only weird thing today. Two more actually.”

Danny gives a worried look and says. “I am afraid to ask.”

“Some guy came in acting real interested in me, in us. Asking about the murders.”

Danny rolls his eyes; he moves back to the fridge and does pull out a beer.

“Go on.”

“Looked like he cut himself just to corner me, asked for only a male nurse.”

He takes a swig, “Gee, that’s not obvious at all.”

I nod. “Then right before the whisper put me on the ground, I saw some guy, who disappeared once I could see again. Then I get this text.”

Danny frowns, his eyes focused on a space in the distance as he thinks.

Finally he does something I wish I had thought of.

He calls the number.

It rings three times.

That little electronic trilling feeling like the only sound in the room.

Then I hear a man’s voice.

“Danny?”

He sounds familiar. But I can’t place it.

“Who is this?”

“I can’t say right now. I still need to do some things.”

The man’s voice has a familiar cadence, the same soft accent.

He’s a local.

Then Danny surprises me.

“Listen, I ain’t in the mood for games, you know something.”

“Oh, I know plenty. But you aren’t ready yet. Trust me. I will find a way to explain.”

“No! You answer now!”

The call ends.

Danny looks at the screen as if the phone itself were to blame.

He has a look in his eyes I have seen before.

Anytime someone threatened one of us.