The Doctor Is Sick

Plays: 22  | Likes: 4  | Shelves: 1  | Comments: 5

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Stanley Kubrick.

Created: October 05,2018

Submitted: October 02, 2018

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Submitted: October 02, 2018

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,"Good Evening."

"Good Evening, Doctor. We are ready, whenever you are."

 

The Nurse gently brushes the back of her hand across the instruments as if playing wind chimes.

 

  "We have everything, as per your request, although we did in run into one minor setback concerning instrument number Five. For that, we have adjusted and made the appropriate substitute."

 

 She hold up a small suction cup revealing it's transparency under the light of the lamp. 

 

 

"That'll have do; I suppose." The Nurse places instrument One in the Doctor's hand.

"She's awake but heavily sedated, so I'll be talking to her as we go through the procedure. So she knows we're still here with her."

"Keep an eye on the EKG monitor to see the brain activity of her responses, so we know she is with us."  The Doctor begins making the first incision down and through the blue line drawn onto the fleshy canvas of his patient.

  

 

 The Doctor swirls the suction cup around in the dirty sink, and upon noticing a smear of collagen on the plastic, pulls down his mask to spit on the spot, rubbing the device between his two finger to remove the smudge. The water tap drips away one drop at time, like the second hand of a clock.

The Nurses make a ghastly face; gasping with disdain and disgust. He returns back to the operating table, the patients vitals still active.

Pushing the cup onto the incision, pressing down then up, repeating like a plunger, he releases the abscess. Finally, the septic ooze of the infection is drawn out.

"See how it's done?" He tosses the cup over his shoulder, flopping it onto the dusty, dirty floor. "Leave it there, I might need it again."

He starts grabbing the instruments himself,  the Nurse and her orderlies now become innocent bystanders to his deranged procedures.

One Nurse steps in by speaking up and asks, to the patient,

 

 

 

 

The monitor reveals her thoughtful silence.

"Mustn't we take better care of this patient, Doctor?" 

"I ask the questions around here." The doctor pushes the gas mask over his now exposed face; concern for germs clearing nonexistent. Inhaling, he holds his breath for brief moment, then exhaling, he lets out a yawn of relief, as if waking from a fresh slumber.

"And, if you must know, this patient is not so ordinary; she has been accused of," his voice fades off as he thinks to himself, 'accused of the crimes I have commited'. Now fading back, "My job here, is to learn more. But, because we don't have the damn right instruments around here I must improvise." His aggrevation turns back to calm.

"Isn't that right my precious?" the Doctor strokes back the hair from her face, as if trying to convince her.

He makes another incision on the top her scalp, exposing cranial bone. Immediately, he grabs the table saw and cuts through the top layer of skull, the smell of burnt calcium wafting up; revealing the thin membrane that now seperated air and brains. He pulls away it with by pinching with both hands and rips it open. He refrains from using his teeth.

 

 

 "You see Nurse, this is what I call 'the one got away'. Now though, by a strange twist of fate, she has returned to me and, by doing so, I must help her to remember me not. To forget that the Killer was me and remind her of things she has not done." He give an inadmissable confession. 

The Nurse, along with all her cohorts, all seem to give the Spock eyebrow raise.

"As for all you ladies in white," he points the scalpel at them like a flashlight in the dark, "Well, I hope you brought a clean change of clothes, so I can redress you after I am done." He grins, thinking of them laid out on the operating table next, then proceeds to probe and scrape.

Their eyes motion toward the door of the operating room.

The key to the lock, hidden within the patient, had been sewn in and out of sight long before her arrival; thus the true reason she had been admitted here in the first place; the curious pain left behind by his own hand. He had been expecting her arrival ever since that first meeting;  when she had walked in, catching him in the act of performing the very same deed on an another victim; of sewing keys into people.

The Nurse stands fast, knocking over the instruments, scattering them across the floor in a sound that delights the Doctor. An orchestrated ting of sharp metallic tools dancing atop the hard linoleum.

He presses his face to the patients brain and kisses the softness.

 

 

 

 

The Doctor kicks over the cylinder of unknown gas, noxious fumes filling the room. The Nurses begin falling over like wilted flowers that bend unceasingly to the ground. The Doctors tolerance level so elevated, he is hardly affected; until after a time, when it is the only air he can breath in. Now surrounded by ghosts of empty white sheets strewn across the floor, he looks upon Sleeping Beauty and removes a fresh mango from his pocket. He takes a bite and rubs the glistening exposed insides of the fruit across her mouth. The EKG machine beeps loudly for the first time. He snaps back to reality for just a second. 

 

After sewing her up, stitching skin back to skin, bone back into it's respective puzzle piece lock, he finds the key and removes it. He leaves that small wound open, something for her to remember him by. He returns the prize onto his key collection and unlocks the door. 

 

Before leaving the room he blows a kiss. He watches it fly away from his hand like a moth to the light. 

 

The floor now bare, the white sheets float up and away, the nurses turning into puffy white clouds. The walls of the operating room fall away in peripheral.The ceiling becomes sky. The light of the lamp blazes above in the form of the Sun. The dirty floor becomes a pebble covered beach. The dripping of water now becomes the tide dancing onto and away from land. 

The patient, now sits next to him on a rocky shoreline, both staring out across a lake. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



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