I Miss @delicious-beats

I miss @delicious-beats

Bite Back

Pt 1/3

Original concept from @delicious-beats. Contains F resus, M rescuer, LUCAS thumper, automated CPR, mouth to intubation tube, depictions of gore, trying to resuscitate a zombie

Blackened veins ran in a spiderweb from the holes in Luffy’s shoulder. She shouldn’t have even been out, Elijah had told her again and again, the fucking news had told her, the trucks with megaphones and military personnel blaring up and down her street for the past ten hours had told her. But she needed to know he was okay. She was always trying to look out for him. He’d never hated her selflessness more than right now. 

Her skin was bloodless, her usual dark brown hue sapped until she was completely ashen, the circular row of splotchy red teeth marks and black fissures of veins the only real color left to her body. Her heart was beating arrhythmic on the monitors as the ambulance tried to find a path forward through the streets choked with people fleeing. Her head rolled back on her neck and she looked up with bleary eyes towards him. 

“Eli,” she choked out, her throat tight to the point of almost closing up. 

They’d dealt with bite victims all day. They’d lost all of them, and then had to cut it and run when the old woman or the jogger or, worst, the fucking ten year old who had been playing soccer, reared back up and tried to take a bite out of them. Elijah cradled her head, his mind racing. The symptoms presented differently with everyone they’d encountered. One spewed blood, one just bottomed out and died, but so far complete cardiac arrest had occurred within the first twenty minutes of contact. His eyes darted to his watch. It had been fifteen since she’d screamed over the phone and he had raced to come find her.

He pressed a square of gauze against the wound, his breath shaking. “Okay,” he said, “Okay, Lu? I need you to look at me, focus on me, hey-“ He held her face with one hand and snapped his fingers near her ear with the other. It lolled like a doll with loose joints. “We’ve got a couple minutes before… b-before the first real symptoms kick in, the really bad ones. But I’m gonna get you to the hospital, alright?” He added in an aside to his partner in the front, “How long you think until we get there?” 

“Fuck man,” Jonas spat, “Every street is clogged, the military is setting up choke points on every major road. They’re not gonna let us even through if she’s infected.” 

“I didn’t fucking ask about the stupid fucking military, I asked how long until we get there,” Elijah replied in a tone that warned the other man he would not be accepting any other outcome but Luffy making it to the front doors of Saint Edward’s.

“Twenty minutes, if I can find a decent backstreet. Probably forty if I can’t.”

He nearly sobbed. The air left his body in a rush with a stricken noise he couldn’t hold back. Luffy’s hand reached out and grabbed at his shirt. 

“Eli,” she sputtered again, but there were tears in her voice this time. “I don’t … I d-don’t wanna die…”

Twenty minutes. Probably over that, but he couldn’t think about that. His eyes snapped to his watch again. Three minutes left. He could keep her heart going. If she wasn’t really dead then she couldn’t be undead. He would keep her alive, and they would cure her, and she would live. There was no other option. Not for him.

Spittle dried white at the corner of her lips as he stared down into her face, those lips he had kissed until they were swollen now trembling and pale. He smoothed hair back from her forehead and leaned in close. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” he promised in a low voice, cupping her head with both hands. “You’re gonna be alright. You trust me?” She nodded, even as tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and slid into the pillow beneath her. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. We take care of each other, right? It’s what we do.” 

Two minutes. Elijah kissed her sweaty forehead and drew back, collecting everything he’d need for an arrest as the ambulance swayed and bounced over uneven terrain. He snatched out epinephrine, pulled out the AED, strapped her to the gurney, all with an efficiency he didn’t even know he was capable of. Already her heart was beginning to skip, throwing out PVCs on the monitor as her jagged heart rate either spiked above the line or dipped far below it. He eyed the restraints they had on hand, the brace boards for trauma victims and cuffs meant for psych patients. As he drew the LUCAS out, he tested the straps on the sides of the large, crescent moon shaped piece of equipment. There was no telling if they’d hold if she tried to take a swipe at him, but maybe. 

Twenty seconds. Elijah gripped the neckline of Luffy’s shirt and tore it down the middle, sweat beginning to drip down the back of his neck and back. She was hardly moving, her bare chest glistening with sweat. Her nipples had lost their color too, and her breasts swayed jerkily with every short, halting breath she managed in. Her eyes were drooping closed. Her jaw twitched open a little and slackened back as she took one more shallow sip of air. Then it left her lungs in a quiet sigh as her chest deflated for the final time. There was one more quick flutter on the monitors, her heart clawing for the last few quivering beats it could manage. Then it stopped. 

Elijah clamped down on the welling nausea to tap the timer on his digital watch. Jonas cursed up front as the EKG hummed a flatline. Wasting no time, he slid the curved backboard under her limp body, lifting the LUCAS and clicking it into place above her. The thing settled between her breasts, the flexible rubber plunger flush against her sternum. One of her arms hung limp off the side of the gurney and he took it by the wrist, fixing it in the straps on one side of the machine, then the other. Her fingers curled against the motor case. Elijah jabbed at the controls and turned it on. 

The machine jabbed the plunger down into her chest with all the force of a trained EMT. It cratered into her heart, the force displacing through the rest of her body so her belly rolled out, her shoulders rippling with the force of a robot that didn’t care if it felt her ribs pulp under its hands. It had never held her. It had never known the warmth of her. The thing pistoned and made a noise far too loud for the cramped space. Zip, zip, zip, zip, zip.

Luffy’s eyes were half mast and empty, lips parted. Elijah checked the timer. A little over a minute had passed since the start of the arrest. Maybe there was still time for intubation. He snatched the laryngoscope and tilted her head back by the jaw, sliding the metal blade past her bloodless lips and over her tongue. The curved blade made an easy track down her throat, bulging it slightly as he maneuvered an intubation tube down the tunnel of her trachea. He slid it home with one hand, the other resting at the pulse point in her neck to feel the blood being forced to circulate. He knew he couldn’t look at her face. He had to focus on her tongue, her mouth, her teeth, the hard bone of her jaw under his fingers. If he looked at her face, he would lose any shred of sanity he had left. But his eyes slid anyway. They moved down to her eyes- only they weren’t half lidded anymore. 

They bore into him, the pupils grey discs in the center of her dark eyes. The whites of her eyes were shot through with red veins. Her jaw clicked as it moved around the intubation tube, her lips peeling back, exposing her teeth.

“Fuck!” Elijah exclaimed and jerked back, his back hitting the wall of the ambulance. 

“What, what?” Jonas shouted from the front seat.

Luffy’s body moved, her arms tugging at the restraints, her legs shifting underneath her. They curled up and kicked out, but the belts around her waist held her down. Her back arched against the LUCAS even as it slammed down against her sternum. Elijah heard something shift sickeningly under the skin. A guttural growl rose up from the tube and she thrashed, shaking her head, rolling back as her teeth gnashed against the tube poking from her mouth. She gargled and sputtered and he realized with a jolt that she was tearing up her throat with her bucking and shaking. 

“Luffy,” he breathed. “Lu… Lu, stop, stop it-“ He lurched forward, grabbing her jaw, but she snapped her head to the side and clicked her teeth within a hairs breadth of his hand. "Fuck, fuck!"

"Eli! What the hell-"

"Focus on the road!" As he snapped this at Jonas, Luffy burbled a mouthful of blood from around the tube in her throat. He managed to throw his arms in front of his face just in time before it might have splattered in his eyes or mouth. The last thing poor Jonas needed was another flesh crazed cannibal in his ambulance. Elijah had already decided he was saving the woman he loved, and he was going to keep that promise; he just needed to stay warm and breathing to do it.

He lunged for her again, clapping his hands on both sides of her head, just out of reach over her bared teeth. "This is definitely not how you're supposed to intubate someone," he panted, already out of breath, "But I know very well you're not breathing for yourself right now." As if in agreement, Luffy gurgled with a throat full of blood, already darkened by the virus until it was almost black. He wrapped his lips around the opening of the tube and forced a breath into it. Might as well, things definitely couldn't get any worse. His eyes flicked to her chest as the LUCAS did its thing, bowing her ribs in against her spine with ruthless efficacy, and blew another breath into her oxygen starved lungs, even as she fought against it. Six minutes in arrest.

Her arms strained against the bindings and he heard the velcro straps start to go, but she was just mindless and angry enough she didn't seem to understand what was keeping her stuck. She twisted her wrists and struggled until the skin was bruised and raw, but the straps held. They'd hold until they couldn't anymore. He considered a neck brace to try and hold her still enough to attach an ambu bag and actually intube her properly, but if he lessened his hold on her for even a moment, she'd snap and flounder, teeth chomping as they lunged for his flesh. The LUCAS had to be good enough. It was all he had. He stood there, bowed over her, filling her lungs. Each breath forced her chest to rise before it was again crushed under the LUCAS as it beat her heart over and over again. Every time he gave her oxygen, she made a wretched wheezing noise and used the breath as fuel to snarl wordlessly at him. Her legs kicked out, banging against the walls of the truck, scattering supplies tucked into corners. Her body tried to roll up and fight the machine as it relentlessly battered her dead heart.

"Please, stay still, Lu." He stroked his thumb against her cheek, trying to suppress the sobs he felt building behind his eyes. Every time the LUCAS pounded against her sternum, it forced what little air was left in her lungs out, often in a grunt or a a hollow rasp in the back of her poor, abused throat. “I got you, baby. I’m not giving up, not until I get you back.”

She snarled again, but the thumper kept cutting into her displeased noises. “Haaar-huk, graa-ack, huk-“

Ten minutes in arrest. Elijah looped his arm under her chin, pinning her in his bicep to keep her head still, and punched the pause button on the LUCAS. He slipped two fingers under his headlock to feel for her pulse, but the monitor returned to a flatline the moment the automatic compressions stopped. She was still dead even as she squirmed under the restraints.

“Come on, fucks sake, Lu. Give me something,” he muttered, slapping the resume button to once more fill the ambulance with the rhythmic zip, zip, zip noise. Her breasts bounced with the force, her hardened nipples drawing lines back and forth in the air. He breathed once more into the intubation tube. The machine forced the breath back out as soon as he’d given it. She didn’t stop her struggles, trying to fight the thing assaulting her motionless heart. He had to wonder if she felt it pushing stale blood through the chambers and ventricles. He could only imagine how much it must hurt to be conscious during CPR. Her ribcage had probably already been rendered into pudding by now. He could see the bruise where the plunger knocked again and again into her. “I’m sorry,” he found himself whispering.

Thirteen minutes in arrest.

He didn’t know how much more he could take. Seeing Luffy’s face contorted, empty even as it moved and made noise, was starting to break Elijah. Or at the very least break some vital piece of him. He ran his thumbs over her temples as tears silently slipped down the bridge of his nose and patted wetly on her face. She didn’t even flinch. There was nothing left of her in those diseased eyes. He held her still enough in another headlock to check her pupil reactivity, but they were fixed and blown wide with dilation. He didn’t know if that meant the virus was doing its job, or if she was beyond saving. Luffy rattled the gurney as she kicked again, thrashing her body as much as she could while being pinned down by the machine punching into her sternum over and over. Sixteen minutes. Sixteen minutes and absolutely zero electrical activity: her heart hadn’t even quivered. It simply lay silent and still while the rest of her kept moving.

Elijah sank into a crouch, holding onto the edge of her bed to keep himself from collapsing utterly. He heard Jonas radioing into the hospital, but he couldn’t focus on anything but the pitiful gasps and grunts Luffy made as the thumper pinned her beneath it. “Stay still, please God just stay still,” he begged her and felt tears spilling over. He couldn’t hold it back any longer. All he could do was sit there and shake with silent sobs. He couldn’t even focus enough to breathe for her. “Baby,” he rasped in a hoarse whisper, “Please… Jesus Christ, please…. Come back…”

“Eli,” Jonas called again for what had been the third time, but was the first time Elijah had heard him. “They say they’ve got some kind of antidote, they’ve tried it on a few of the infected.”

Elijah wiped tears and snot off in his upper arm. “Any results?” he asked, warbling. The greater part of him wanted to tell Jonas not to bother, that it was too late. That she was gone. The most an antidote would do would maybe put her down peacefully so she could rest easy. But there was that little kernel, that one errant thought that said maybe, maybe she could come back.

“A couple people have come back. Not totally, they think it might be brain damage from the time they spent without circulation. But they stop trying to rip people’s faces off.”

They’d been her life support since the moment she turned. Her heart had barely even been given a chance to stop in her chest. The LUCAS had good rates of spontaneous return of circulation; if anyone could come back, Luffy had been given the best chance.

“They know we’re coming?”

“They’re gonna meet us the second we pull in.”

He stared down into the silver discs of her eyes. She was still in there, somewhere. She had to be. “Hold on, Lu. I’m gonna get you back.”

More Posts from Shock-doc-cpr and Others

9 months ago

Camping defib ⛺🌲🐻⚡

Hope you like this edit !

1 year ago
6 months ago

𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭🫀

Cardan paced the corridor outside the delivery room, his hands trembling as he clenched and unclenched them. The muffled sounds of machines and hurried voices filtered through the door, each second feeling like a lifetime. Moments earlier, Serena had been rushed into surgery, pale and unconscious, her body fragile from the stress of premature labor. Their baby boy, Damian, had been delivered—tiny and struggling—but the doctors’ focus shifted quickly when Serena’s condition worsened.

The door swung open, and a nurse stepped out. Her face was grim. “Mr. Montclair” she said softly, trying to mask the urgency in her voice. “We’re doing everything we can, but her heart has stopped. The doctor is trying to revive her.”

Cardan’s vision blurred. “Stopped?” His voice cracked, the word barely escaping his throat. “No… No, that can’t be. She was just here—she was breathing! She—”

“Please, sir,” the nurse interrupted gently but firmly. “You need to wait here. Let us help her.”

Cardan wanted to protest, to barge in and see her, to hold her hand and plead for her to fight. But his legs buckled beneath him as the weight of the moment crashed down. He sank onto the bench, burying his face in his hands, whispering, “Don’t leave me, Serena… Please.”

Inside the room, Serena lay motionless on the bed, her skin pale against the stark white sheets. The monitor by her bedside emitted an erratic, rapid beeping before flatlining entirely.

“Ventricular fibrillation!” the nurse called out.

“Let’s move, now!” the doctor ordered, pulling down Serena’s hospital gown to expose her chest. “Start compressions!”

A nurse stepped forward, placing her hands over Serena’s bare chest. She pushed down rhythmically, counting aloud. “One, two, three, four…”

The doctor grabbed the ambu bag and positioned it over Serena’s face, squeezing it firmly. Her chest rose and fell with each breath of air forced into her lungs. The room buzzed with urgency, the sound of the flatline a cruel reminder of how fragile her life had become.

“Charging defibrillator,” the doctor announced, his voice steady but tense. He squeezed gel onto the paddles, spreading it quickly before placing one on Serena’s sternum and the other on her apex. “100 joules. Ready—clear!”

Serena’s body jerked slightly off the bed as the shock coursed through her. Everyone stared at the monitor, hoping for a rhythm. The line remained flat.

“Again. Charge to 200.”

“Charged.”

“Clear!”

Her chest lifted higher this time, the force jolting her frail body. But the monitor stayed silent, its flatline mocking their efforts.

“Damn it,” the doctor muttered under his breath. “300 joules.” He glanced at the team, his eyes betraying the fear he fought to suppress. “Come on, Serena. Don’t give up on me.”

The paddles were pressed to her chest again. “Clear!”

Her body convulsed upward, the motion more violent than before. Everyone held their breath, but the line didn’t move.

“360 joules. This is our last chance,” the doctor said, his voice heavy.

“Charging,” the nurse replied.

The doctor leaned close to Serena’s lifeless face. “Fight, Serena. You have to fight. There’s someone waiting for you outside. Don’t leave him. Don’t leave us.”

“Charged.”

“Clear!”

The shock sent Serena’s body arching dramatically before falling back onto the bed, motionless. The monitor let out a low, unbroken tone—a flatline.

“Resume compressions!” the doctor barked.

The nurse immediately began CPR again, her palms pressing hard against Serena’s sternum. Each compression seemed to drain more hope from the room. Sweat beaded on their foreheads as they worked tirelessly, switching between CPR and defibrillation.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. The room grew quieter, the urgency giving way to exhaustion and despair.

The doctor stepped back, his hands trembling as he stared at Serena. “Call it,” he whispered, but his voice faltered. “Wait…” He stepped closer again, placing his stethoscope on her chest, as if willing her heart to beat.

Outside, Cardan sat frozen, his mind racing through every memory he had with Serena. The way she smiled, how her eyes sparkled when she laughed, the warmth of her hand in his. He couldn’t lose her—not like this.

“Please…” he whispered to no one. “Come back to me. You promised me forever.”

His heart sank when the door opened, and a nurse stepped out. Her face was pale, her eyes glistening.

“Mr. Montclair…” she began, her voice cracking.

Cardan didn’t wait for her to finish. He pushed past her and into the room.

“Cardan, you can’t—”

But he was already at Serena’s bedside. Her body lay still, her skin cold to the touch. The machines had been turned off, and the team stood silent, their heads bowed.

“Serena,” Cardan choked, falling to his knees beside her. He grabbed her hand, pressing it to his lips. “No… No, no, no. You can’t leave me. You hear me? You can’t!”

Tears streamed down his face as he cupped her cheeks, his voice breaking. “You promised we’d do this together. You promised me…”

For a moment, the room was silent except for Cardan’s sobs. Then, faintly, the monitor emitted a weak, irregular beep.

“Wait,” the doctor said, rushing to her side. “We’ve got something. Weak pulse—start a line, now!”

Cardan froze, his tear-streaked face lifting in disbelief. “She’s alive?”

“Her heart’s beating, but it’s faint,” the doctor said hurriedly. “We’re not out of the woods yet. Give us space.”

Cardan stepped back, hope flickering in his chest as he watched the team work tirelessly to stabilize her. He whispered a prayer, clutching the wedding ring on his finger.

“Come back to me, Serena,” he murmured. “Please.”

________

I know there's some unrealistic practice here like you can't shock a flatline. but anyway,enjoy.

6 months ago

Coming this Friday .... Jamie's Heart Attack !

Coming This Friday .... Jamie's Heart Attack !
1 month ago

really nice effort for saving young woman with cpr and defib scene with gray jeans at emergency room

it would be very nice if she was barefeet in those jeans and lifepack black paddles

1 month ago

could you post the art from your pfp?

Could You Post The Art From Your Pfp?

I did post this way back when last summer when I first started drawing and posting.

1 year ago

Okay, but buttoned pj tops are such a cardiophile mood. It gives “laying in bed sick, so a doctor has to gently unbutton the top of your shirt to take a listen to your heartbeat, because you’re too weak to do it yourself” kinda vibes 🥺

1 year ago

The power dynamic between doctors & patient is so hot to me. The way a doctor has so much control over you and as a patient you have so little to none. And a doctor who takes advantage of that? The best kind 💕

Place a stethoscope on my chest and tease me about how my heart is really telling you how I feel. Study my heart to see exactly when I hit my climax and then monitor it afterwards as you tell me how good I was during the procedure. Then tell me I need to come back next week for it all over again… 😫

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