The village doctor

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

a story of an evil doctor who makes something horrible out of a man.... something monstrous...




An isolated village,

Near Holguina,


The man struggled against his chains. He looked around the room for any sign of escape. He was locked away in –what looked like -a lab. There were jars with dead creatures floating in its contents. The shelves hid the walls of the room.

 There were also wooden tables with funnels and dusty beakers which contained strange liquids he can’t identify. There was a daily on the table, weighed down by a jar of oil. The man saw his own face printed on the page, (dark eyed, with a sturdy youthful face) with his name-Rourie Hastine at the bottom, captioned as DEAD.

  Rourie jumped, as he heard footsteps on the other side of the door. He struggled more turbulently against the chains.



“Damn, the stair” said a deep grumbling voice, somewhere behind the door. The footsteps continued, until it came to a halt somewhere right behind the door.

  `Click’ the door opened and a tall, beefy man with a long sleek hair entered the room. His face was not visible in the dark. “Forget it” the stranger said, “there is no use fighting them.”

 “Why did you kidnap me here?” asked Rourie.

 The stranger came close to Rourie’s face this time to reply. His face was visible under the lantern-light. He had a moon-like face, and a pretty deep, line-shaped scar ran across his nose. “You have the right to know!”

“Though you look like some one your voice...” Rourie trailed off. Then a sudden glow of realization came to his face.

 “Mar-”started Rourie but the imposter kicked him square on the chest. Rourie fell along with the chair, he was tied to. “HOW DARE YOU SPEAK MY NAME? You’re just a labour!!” shouted the stranger. He walked around the room for a minute or so, and then he returned again and straightened the chair along with Rourie.


“I forgot to ask you a question.” He went on, “what do you think about enslavement?” he turned his back towards Rourie and was working on something at the table where the daily was.

“Inhuman” retorted Rourie, now, was trying to waste as much as time as he could, to maintain the distance of the forthcoming danger from him “could you please say me why you have brought me here?”

 “The French had banned the supply of slaves.” he said as though he had awaited Rourie to ask him this question. “But the witch doc-” he halted as Rourie interrupted him, “so that’s how you entered that body!”

“Shut up!” said the man.

 “The witch doctors have given us concoctions which … hope you know the rest” he said.

Rourie, now realized what the man was ought to do to him.

“You could do nothing until a man has his brain and strength intact!” said Rourie, bolder than he felt.

“You think so?” questioned the man he turned back to face Rourie.

He had a syringe without a needle. Some liquid with, golden hue was in its bowels.



Rourie resumed his fight against the chains. The man pulled out a knife from his pockets and made a deep cut on Rourie‘s forearm. The he kneeled beside Rourie, and started to apply the liquid on the wound, with the syringe, steadily.


“Someone at the stairs!” the man whispered to himself. The man stood up and replaced the syringe --- now empty.

Rourie’s vision blurred then he fainted as the man walked out…




6months later


“You must be feelin’ lucky, kid!” the driver said.

He was right.


 As soon as, I arrived at Holguina, I had been asking various coach drivers to get me to my destination, no one volunteered.

They gave a variety of reasons like:

  1. “sorry, kid, the path is rough and the wheel may get damaged”
  2. “sorry”
  3. “My horse isn’t interested[*]”


Then this old man called me and asked whether I’d hire him. I did.

After some time, he came back with a wagon drawn by two scrawny horses. Actually, by the way he talked; I thought he had a landau2.

 But later on I started to enjoy the ride.3

“I thought you had a landau” I said thoroughly enjoying the breeze.

“Are you a Spaniard?”  He asked.

“No! I’m British” I relied.

Then the driver started to explain the disadvantages of landaus.


The wagon ran parallel to a range of hills, with a distance of at least twenty miles. The village where my uncle lived was visible, at the horizon, when the old man asked, “Are you a relative of Lord. Bentin? ”

“No.” I said “I’m a relative of Dr .Rave’s”

“Oh the doctor…”said the driver.

“Who’s Bentin?” I asked.

“Owner of the sugar plantation in the village.” said the driver.


The wagon rattled along markets, lanes and a gigantic cathedral, which was located at the center of the village. The market had nearly everything—from food to ornaments. The plantations were at a walk able distance from the village. Uncle Rave’s mansion was at the tip of the village on the east.

The mansion was shadowed by a ring of trees, giving it an eerie look.


The wagon halted just before a path leading through the ring to the mansion. The driver stopped me and asked, “Here you go, kid! Hey thanks!” he said as soon as I placed the money in his hands, and walked away with my luggage.

  “Wait!” he called.

I turned to face him. “Are you sure that you’re a Rave?” he asked.

“I’m Jack Bell, the son of Helena Bell, the sister of Dr. Rave” I said--- rather fiercely.

“Hey! No offence meant!” said the old man.

“None, taken.” I said smiling.

“There are strange stories about this place, kid” he said. “You’d better be careful while you’re here…”


When I entered the front yard, the atmosphere went unusually cold. I did not care about it. There was a daily lying on the door mat. I stood on the threshold and rang the bell.

“Coming!” said a voice somewhere in the house.

 I picked the newspaper up from the floor and the door opened. A fat man with long, white -- hair peeped out.

“Uncle Rave?” I started.

“Jack?” he guessed.

We hugged each other. “You were only two the last time I saw you!” he said, “now---”

“I’m sixteen now” I said.

“Come in!” he welcomed “I have something that might interest you! First break fast”


The basement could be described as an unorganized museum. Though he is a doctor, Uncle Rave loves to collect artifacts and antiques.  As soon as, we entered the room, a strong stench filled our noses. Uncle Rave had already worn his surgical mask. I managed with my handkerchief.

But I never imagined that he would get a mummy for sake of collecting!

“Just came six months before!” Uncle Rave said shaking with joy. “Isn’t it wonderful?”


When I examined the body closely, I gasped

“I don’t see any sign of ---”

“Skin?” said uncle Rave, “you’re right! An assassin from ancient Egypt according to the papyrus diary he wrote  ...” He said, brandishing a bunch of papyrus at me, “He got caught! And was skinned like a goat and was exposed to bugs!”

“There was also the scroll… the Death Scroll” Uncle Rave said frowning at a moth eaten papyrus scroll’ “it’s supposed to be in the king’s chamber--- what do you think it was doing in an assassin’s tomb?”

 I could only shrug in reply.



“What makes your face like that?” Uncle Rave asked me during our lunch at the balcony. You could view the front yard from there and the village beyond.

“Uncle don’t you feel ... Uneasy to have dead body at home?” I asked.

“Don’t you know that I love antiques?” he said with a hurt voice.

He patted my shoulder while going into the house.




“Good night, Jack!” Uncle Rave said as I climbed up the stairs. I replied him. And continued towards the third floor, where Uncle Rave had allotted a room for me.

 The room smelt of lavender and poppy. Uncle Rave had said that Aunt Clara had lived there once, before she moved to a room on the ground floor. I clambered on the bed only after I’d carefully dusted it.[†]



It was about one am when I woke. I heard footsteps above me.

Might be Uncle Rave, said a part of me. Worth a look, said another.

It was humid and it was raining cats and dogs outside.

 I stood up and crept out of the room and climbed the stairs.

I’d never been allowed to the fourth, and final, floor of the house. Uncle Rave lived there.


 The stair creaked, that meant that I had arrived to the last few steps of the stair case.

BOOM! – went the thunder.

There was an open door. I was about to peep in when I felt someone behind me…

I slowly turned to face the ‘someone’ which was not uncle Rave.

There, in the corner stood a hunched yet tall man, whose features were not visible in the night.

 Sweat slithered down my cheek as the man took a step towards me.

A flash of lighting illuminated the corridor.


The hair on my neck erected, as I caught a glimpse of him. He was terrible[‡].

 He did not have an eye; his back bone was visible as there was nothing to cover it.

 The creature lowered on his hands and leapt.





The zombie howled in pain and scampered.  I fell on the floor --- steadily loosing my consciousness. I turned to see who shot the creature. There was a fat figure with a long hair which was white enough to glow in the dark…….Uncle Rave!

I fainted.


 “What was that?” I asked, “That … skele …. That dead body wa--?”

Uncle Rave cut in, “dancing?  Skipping?”

The morning was wonderful, that is, except for uncle Rave’s scolding[§].

 I had been insisting that, there was a living dead in his private floor. But, he spectacularly argued, that I had been seeing hallucinations.

“But you shot it!” I protested.

“What?” barked uncle Rave “there was nothing in my corridor except YOU!”


“Are you coming with me?” uncle Rave asked, by evening.

“To where?” I asked from a chair, near a window, in the living room.

 “To the plantations! I hope y--” he started.

“I got enough of that!” I snapped. “Why are you going there?” I asked.

“Lord Bentin wants his laborers checked medically.”

“I don’t want to come” I said.

“Does everyone call him lord?” I questioned

“Yes!” he said, “Are you sure, that---?”

“Very sure” I replied.


The true reason for my disapproval was my curiosity to know what uncle Rave was hiding from me.

 I needed to get prepared.

 So I headed to the village after I‘d ensured, that I had enough money.

There was weaponry somewhere at the market. I saw it while I came to the village. It was not hard to find it as it was the oldest and abandoned shop among the new crowded ones.

  The bell clinked warily, as I entered the shop. An old man behind a table, shivered with joy.

He laid weapons, side by side on the table. I chose one pistol then the old man went thoughtful “take the rifle” he advised “it resists them for sometime.”

I stepped back, in surprise.  How did he know about the mansion?

“Meet the witches of the forest” he went on “they always have answers.”






Uncle Rave came only by supper time with two men. Both were powerfully built natives. They were Kharib and Tan. They knew English[**]. Uncle Rave also said that they are gong to stay in the mansion for a night which means the chances of me getting caught increased dramatically--- even without any back-fires.


I had the rifle fully loaded by midnight[††]. They were up stairs, in uncle Rave’s room. I filled an oil lamp that, I had bought in the market and started to climb the stairs. I skipped the creaking one. But then I wished that, I hadn’t skipped, because the lamp wobbled and ---



I scampered down stairs, towards my room. Their footsteps echoed allover the mansion.  They came directly to my room to check me first. Kharib alone suspected me.

 I was pretending as though I was asleep.

“The kid?” he asked to uncle Rave.

“No. The lamp isn’t from this house” said uncle Rave, “The marauders wouldn’t have gone far come on”

 But Kharib, did not budge, he stood inches from my bed.

“Has he slept?”  Uncle Rave asked sternly.

“Looks like” said Kharib.

“Then come on”

I am won’t give up easily.


As soon as I heard the front door slam, I jumped from my bed and pulled out the rifle and flew down stairs and ran until I halted by a window at the entrance hall.

They were talking.

 “We have to say about this to lord Bentin .That’s the second time you’d acted awkwardly, in the past two days” said Tan to uncle Rave.

“And supporting a kid, who is he Martinac?” asked Kharib.

“He’s a relative of Rave. Let’s get in the forest, before it’s too late” said uncle Rave!



‘Then who’s this man? What has he done to my uncle?’ questions like this sprouted in my head like warts[‡‡].


  I have to hunt them down, I decided; hunt them till I get the truth of my uncle out of them.

 I followed them into the forest. They were not far from each other. They made an awful lot of noise which is not recommended, for searching a culprit.


--- I’d stamped on a dry twig, and the sound of it breaking, had traveled to their ears...

Every one of them, turned towards me. The darkness of night would save me for sometime, but the sound was crystal clear.

 I hid behind a huge tree, as they stalked towards the very tree I was hiding and praying.

 I felt like a rat, cornered by kittens[§§].

I could hear shrubs and plants being crushed as they waded towards me.


Kharib looked at me and blinked, “there’s no one here!” He said in a frustrated voice.

I blinked. I waved at them. No they couldn’t see me! Or hear me shouting insults and teasing them.

Then I saw someone staring at me behind them.



It was a witch. And she was staring at me, I couldn’t see her eyes under her hood, but I felt that she was staring at me.

 She gestured me to follow her, with her withered hand.

I obeyed. The others were still bickering like angry ducks, among themselves.

 “I know about your uncle” she said, as she led me through the forest.

“Do you?” I asked.

“I’ll talk further, at my residence” she rasped.



I later understood that, she wasn’t the only one who resided in the forest. There was small village of huts, in a forest clearing.  I gaped in amazement as the village was bustling with commoners and witches alike!

But the noise was so loud. I feared some one might hear them. But then I realized that even I couldn’t hear it, until I disappeared.

The witch entered one of the huts, closely followed by me.

 She started talking, before I could open my mouth.

What she said was the story of what happened to uncle Rave before the man took his guise,:

When the French, banned the supply of slaves to Caribbean, lord Bentin, had forced the wood witches to brew, a special poison, which coverts a common man into a horrific monster.

  Then he asked the village doctor to inject it to the laborers of the Bentin Plantations.

Dr. Rave opposed it strongly.


On Halloween eve, Bentin dragged a witch to a dead labor’s body and tormented her, until she made the body, as per the land lord’s wish --- a full functioning soul trapper, which resembled an Egyptian mummy.

 This mummy was sent anonymously to DR. Rave.

 The love, Dr. Rave had, for old things made him read, a curious book of papyrus which came along with the mummy. This was the spell to trap his soul.

Then, a trustworthy soul of the supervisor of Bentin plantations was sent into the empty body of the doctor.

The supervisor’s name was ….. Martinac Elive.


 When she finished this, she asked ,“any questions?”.

“Many” I said before I asked my first one, “What is this place?”

“The witch village” she said.

“Tell me more about the poison” I asked.

“It is a concoction, which has the ability to slow down a person’s heart rate, and make him lose some body parts. Then, people will bury him thinking he is dead. But the person lives, and a master would do some rites to make him a permanent slave.” She said but continued “Time is short and I need your permission to do a ----”

“What?” I asked.

“Your uncle’s soul is here with me. I want you to take him within you to defeat those heartless men.” She said taking a glass bottle which had something swirling in it. “I took him as soon as I’d locked him in the body. Yes. It was me.” She snapped, as I opened my mouth in surprise.

 “He was good man. He communicates with us, from the bottle. He has some paranormal powers which have developed in him in the last six months. Would you allow him in your


“I’m waiting”






“Wait, Jack!” requested the true, uncle Rave.

“There is a friend of mine who said, he had a work to do” he said[***].

When the witch opened the bottle, I inhaled the gas in it. It was suffocating. I felt as though I had extra limbs. But I got used to it after sometime. I also felt a strange feeling surging through my veins.


Then we got out of the hut when he asked me to wait for his friend.

But the friend he said turned out to be the zombie I‘d met in the mansion.

 “YOU!” we exclaimed at each other, simultaneously.

“Hello! Rourie!” uncle Rave said, through me.

“Dr. Rave?” gasped Rourie, the zombie.


We started to talk about each other. Rourie was a nice man, save for his …err[†††]

  We were on the same boat too!

Rourie was once a worker in the plantations of Bentin, until Martinac and his friends kidnapped him and made him their first successful zombie.

 When I asked him how he escaped, he said that a zombie will gain his senses for one day. On that day, the zombie must be noticed carefully or else something deadly might happen, to the caretaker.

Martinac was lucky enough to escape him twice --- once on the day Rourie got back his mind and on the other day when Rourie came to the mansion.


Rourie also said that the work, he’d gone to do, was a success.

It was killing Bentin. 


“We are all set to go”, said Rourie. We were in the ring of trees which surround the mansion.

“Rourie, how do you feel as a zombie?”  I asked

I feel powerful .since I have my mind I can think independently. But I’m only afraid of fire, as fire attracts us, but kills us at the same time--” suddenly he started to sniff the air

“Uh oh”, he said, “There are zombies stationed allover the mansion!”




“I can take down twenty of them!” he said with a horrible smile.

“You’re crazy” I said.

“Nothing can be done, until a man has his brain and strength intact!” he said, leaping into the front yard “I’ll be all right Jack! My senses make me umpteen times faster!”

I could only move my mouth silently, like a gold fish.

“Relax Jack”, said uncle Rave, “you have never seen him practice!”

Within seconds of his sudden entry, a horde of zombies dragged themselves towards the gatecrasher. Rourie lowered on all fours and in a blink of an eye, he leapt on a nearby zombie and twisted its head off! Then he jumped of its shoulders and shattered the next one’s skull with a well-aimed kick. Then he ran like a chimp on his hands and feet, towards the next zombie.

Rourie jumped high and lowered his legs, knee-deep, into another zombie’s ribcage, shattering the bones everywhere, like grains of rice.

“GET IN!”He bellowed, as he detached more limbs, “They’ll be alerted by now!”


“He is right, Jack”, uncle Rave said, “We’d better get going”



For the first time in many days, the mansion looked livelier, than ever. Even though it was several hours before dawn, the inner house was glowing with light.

But there was a problem --- I doubted uncle Rave’s paranormal powers.

We were talking over this, when ---


  “Here is the rat of the lab!” exclaimed uncle Rave, as a zombie moved towards us, “just gesture with your hands and concentrate! You can do any thing! My powers have drained into your body!”

“Your po---” I started.

“I have none! It’s you, who have all of them”, he said, “Try the table quick!”

Feeling extremely foolish, I clutched the air and made a violent move from left to right.


 The table, which was by the window flew from its place and crashed into the zombie’s head.

Wow!!” I exclaimed.

“You can do anything you want! The sky is your limi --- hey!” uncle Rave said, as I jumped towards the tall ceiling, and flew like an arrow, above the stairs, towards the fourth floor.

There were two things rattling in and on me----Uncle Rave’s soul and the rifle respectively.

 Just as we expected, there was a horde of zombies, waiting for us on the fourth floor. If not for the powers, I’d have become a zombie snack.

But then another problem started, ----- uncle Rave’s soul stretched in me like the tentacles of an octopus.

My hand started to act on its own.

“What’s happening?” I asked panicking. “It’s me!” Said uncle Rave said. I felt as though, I was standing shoulder deep into mud.

 Uncle Rave sent waves of air, which cracked the planks of wood on the floor. Then these planks, started to peel off, as the force gained momentum.

 They splintered, and crashed on the zombies. Some died some remained, but more came.

“Uncle Rave” I screamed you’re taking over my body.

“Then give me a half to reside for sometime!” uncle Rave said as the planks shot towards them.

“I’ll take the upper half!” I demanded. And so, it happened.




We tried, door after door. I could only feel my body, till my hip, but not the rest, as uncle Rave had gone in it.

We then opened one of the last two doors at random.



  As though they were waiting for us, Tan and Kharib, started firing at us. We dived behind a table. I started pelting bullets at them. But soon, the last cartridge of mine, was about to open. When I said this to my uncle, I got a jovial reply, “don’t stop shooting.”

 I felt a sudden pull from my lower part. Then I saw, that I was running along the walls!

 My finger ached, as I turned the rifle towards them and shot randomly.

The last thing I heard of them was---



We landed beside their bodies. Each had a visible hole on the head and blood was streaming down from it.




Everything was silent. Even the sound of Rourie’s fight, had ceased. We walked towards the last door.

 The corridor was strewn with human parts. We opened the last door and gasp.

There was a dying man on the floor.

Martinac had poisoned himself, instead of facing our wrath.

We circled him cautiously for sometime. Then we neared him assured that he doesn’t have any more mercenaries around.

“Any last whishes?” enquired uncle Rave.

 “One” suddenly Martinac stood up and pulled out something from his pockets. It was a pendant with obsidian[‡‡‡], dangling, from its chain.


Suddenly, I feel a pull. Something stirred my bowels. Then, I heard uncle Rave scream inside me.

I heaved and my mouth sagged, letting out a gust of air. The obsidian glowed with heat, as I felt a burden leave me.


Martinac Elive had captured uncle Rave, again!






Poor Martinac had gone insane. But he thought that taking away uncle Rave’s soul from me would make me vulnerable. He was wrong, as uncle Rave had said before; his powers had drained into something more solid than blob of gas, which was my body.

Still, I didn’t kill Martinac.

  It was Rourie.

 Rourie blasted in and froze when, he saw me on the floor, Martinac with a crystal pendant. He understood what had happened and decapitated, Martinac.




I conclude this story by saying, that:

  • Martinac had been buried deep in the forest along with his friends Tan and Kharib.
  • I wear the pendant, as an heirloom. So, uncle Rave is in touch with me by talking from it.
  •  Rourie joined the witches, and lived forever, as a powerful guardian of the witches.
  • Me? I’m a normal, eighteen year old, save for the paranormal powers of uncle Rave, which still surges, in my veins.


The end


[*] At this reply I asked him who owns who?

2 one of the first cars to be invented.

3 the landau would have excited me so much that I’d have not enjoyed the breeze and the nature.

[†]  I expected the sons and daughters of the bed bugs which had once been hosted by my aunt

[‡]  To say in short, he was a skeleton, with decayed skin, exposed parts and lacked inner parts.

[§] I doubt that, the sympathy he showed would have mixed with air, if I had not fainted on the other night.

[**]  I came to now this fact in an embarrassing way: uncle Rave was speaking with them in native tongue when I remarked about them to uncle Rave as two well fed camels. Believe me, the expressions they gave, were 100% camel- ish!

[††]  I had practiced with fire arms before – during my military training at the British high school.

[‡‡]  That doesn’t mean I have warts on my brain.

[§§]  I always try to be positive. In this case, a group of cats wouldn’t allow a rat to escape. But the same rat would stand a chance against… just get back to the story.

[***] Whenever he talked, he used my mouth to do it. So it was a sort of mono acting, when we had conversations with one another.

[†††] Do I need to explain about his lost body parts again?

[‡‡‡]  Author’s note:

Crystals have the power, to suck out unstable souls from a body.It is often used, by ghost hunters and spirit slavers. Black crystals, lock, a soul away, without a chance of escape. But still the souls could communicate 

Submitted: September 08, 2013

© Copyright 2022 Arun Sachin. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



didn't sleep all night!
hope you continue..

Sun, September 8th, 2013 1:35pm


Creepy, nice job!

Mon, September 9th, 2013 4:57am

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