The Minotaur’s Trade

“Scalpel, stat!” shouted Dreardra. She had never operated on a minotaur—no one had—but now the fate of the world was literally in her hands.

Dreardra clutched her scalpel and glared at the figure across the operating theater. She'd never practiced medicine with a veterinarian before but then again she'd never operated on a specimen like this. The vet indicated placement of the first incision and Dreardra went to work.

She placed her hand on the creatures chest. Her fingers left deep indents in the soft flesh, its skin was warm and sticky, like a fruit roll up that had been left out in sun. As she cut down the creatures side, she caught a strange reflection in the scalpel's blade.

She quickly averted her eyes. Someone had come to observe her strange surgery. A person from the past. Someone who knew she couldn't legally practice medicine in the state of Kentucky. She paused her dissection of this strange creature and faced her own demon.

“Dad?” She asked cautiously. As if jolted by her own fear, the creature on the table stirred. “Honey, you know you are not licensed in Kentucky”. She dropped the scalpel and ran out of the room. Leaving her father behind to explain her issues with delusional behavior.

"She thinks she's a vet one day, and a scientist the next, and a surgeon the next day. I don't know how she found you or talked you into this, but I imagine you were pretty desperate to even listen to her at all. And your situation is nothing if not desperate right now."

It makes me wonder, honestly. What's the point? What do you think you'll gain from all this? Desperate or not. Is it worth it?

“Is it worth it?! Are you asking me if doing this one tiny thing is worth a lifetime supply of those tiny freeze dried marshmallows you get in SwissMiss?! I don’t even know you anymore.” And then I realized he was right. ...Those things were delicious.