Clinic Nine

[Unseelie]

The spa sparkled under Stuttgart's star, and the scent of brine wafted in through open windows, left open because the air was so full of salty moisture that it acted as a disinfectant. Of all the places to place a small hospital, Baden Baden's salty southern sea could have been any surgeon's dream.

William Graf sat in the empty waiting room of Clinic Nine, waiting for his call. The door swayed in the breeze, and the empty room, with its mauve walls and floral prints grated on his nerves. He'd likely have to wait a long time until his turn in the back, and he'd thumbed through a pair of magazines already. Printed on heavy glossies on the counter were clinic advertisements: Promises of wonderful things, procedures for a younger life, a healthier heart. A new face, a new body...a sharper mind. They had cured things, here, that baffled modern medicine, at prices that may give pause to even the chancellor himself.

It wasn't for any major ailment that Graf was waiting for, though he'd come to do major surgery. Though his heart wasn't what it once was, and his eyes had begun to go, he told himself he'd had a good run. No, a great run. He'd done good work, and could imagine himself looking his father in the eyes in the afterlife. For that matter, he was proud of himself. He'd done well for his children, at least. Was doing good in the name of Rhienland, even if now, he was only waiting.

He was relieved when his phone buzzed...he'd never been a patient man. He was, quite clearly, bored.
He checked the time before switching it on.

"Graf."
"Sir, they're ready for you now."
"Right, thank you. I'll be right back."

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