Post by Lord Greevon on Mar 10, 2014 2:15:29 GMT -5
The Good Doctor
“Dr. West, I’m having my doubts about this operation. How long will the paralysis last?” James fought back the fear in his voice, forcing it down to a level that could be mistaken as weariness from his fever.
“I’ve witnessed it many times before, James. The plague doctors in India culled your very sickness with this procedure while I was studying abroad in 1912. You’ll be up and about in just a few days. Relax and let the opiates take effect. If you tense up or dwell on your fears, the hallucinogenic properties of these drugs might just do more harm than the fever.” Dr. West smiled a fake doctor’s smile and began grinding the reagents together.
“It’s just… isn’t this a bit drastic? I’ve been getting better. I don’t want to do this if I’ll get better with time.”
“No, James. I told you, that’s how this fever works. You’re bedridden for a few days, you get better and then, thinking you’re over it, you drop dead to the ground. That’s why it was allowed to spread so easily throughout the East. ‘The Sleeping Demon’ is what they called it. Now, sit your head up and drink this,” he said sternly, dissolving the mixture of powders into a glass of light brown liquid. “After you are incapacitated, I can begin the real procedure.”
“And what exactly is the real procedure!? You’ve mentioned it involves blood and drugs and cutting me open! And you’ve said I won’t be able to walk afterwards! All this for a fever, I don’t see the point, Dr. West!”
“For a time! I said you would not be able to walk for a time afterwards, it’s temporary. I assure you, this will have no permanent detrimental effects. The problem, James, is how this sickness pervades your entire body. Somewhat surprisingly, it was proved treatable by infusing the blood of a goat that has carried the disease and by injecting the goat’s marrow directly into your bones. I’ve chosen your legs because the bones are large and I can…” The doctor’s voice droned away as the drugs took hold over James.
“Doctor, that sounds… manic. No, don’t. Don’t!” James began to scream as the good Dr. West leered over him with a bone saw.
“So, you see James, your legs need to come off. To make you better, of course! It’s all to make you better, yes. First, I must sacrifice the goat to Yog-Sothoth, so that my transformation can proceed without error. Then, I’ll cut into you and replace all of your fluids with that of the goat. This way, when I cut off your legs and stitch on the back half of the wretched animal, your body will accept your new form. It’s all for you, James, bear in mind. You have to get better.” The doctor laughed feverishly, his entire form dominating the room, twisting and wracking with each choke of laughter.
“No! No, god, no! STOP! Leave me alone, you mad man! Let me die! Don’t touch me; let me die you psychotic fraud! “
Mr. Connell, James’ father entered the room, questioning the uproar. “What’s happened to him, Dr. West? Why is he screaming like that? Have the drugs not prevented the pain of the procedure?”
Dr. West set down his syringe of marrow and looked up to Mr. Connell apologetically. “It seems your son has had a negative reaction to the opiates. He’ll be okay, it won’t cause any physical damage to him, but he appears to be having terrible hallucinations,” his words came out soothingly in contrast to the petrified screams still erupting from the young patient. “Please, if you would, help me hold him down so I can make the injections.”
“Dr. West, I’m having my doubts about this operation. How long will the paralysis last?” James fought back the fear in his voice, forcing it down to a level that could be mistaken as weariness from his fever.
“I’ve witnessed it many times before, James. The plague doctors in India culled your very sickness with this procedure while I was studying abroad in 1912. You’ll be up and about in just a few days. Relax and let the opiates take effect. If you tense up or dwell on your fears, the hallucinogenic properties of these drugs might just do more harm than the fever.” Dr. West smiled a fake doctor’s smile and began grinding the reagents together.
“It’s just… isn’t this a bit drastic? I’ve been getting better. I don’t want to do this if I’ll get better with time.”
“No, James. I told you, that’s how this fever works. You’re bedridden for a few days, you get better and then, thinking you’re over it, you drop dead to the ground. That’s why it was allowed to spread so easily throughout the East. ‘The Sleeping Demon’ is what they called it. Now, sit your head up and drink this,” he said sternly, dissolving the mixture of powders into a glass of light brown liquid. “After you are incapacitated, I can begin the real procedure.”
“And what exactly is the real procedure!? You’ve mentioned it involves blood and drugs and cutting me open! And you’ve said I won’t be able to walk afterwards! All this for a fever, I don’t see the point, Dr. West!”
“For a time! I said you would not be able to walk for a time afterwards, it’s temporary. I assure you, this will have no permanent detrimental effects. The problem, James, is how this sickness pervades your entire body. Somewhat surprisingly, it was proved treatable by infusing the blood of a goat that has carried the disease and by injecting the goat’s marrow directly into your bones. I’ve chosen your legs because the bones are large and I can…” The doctor’s voice droned away as the drugs took hold over James.
“Doctor, that sounds… manic. No, don’t. Don’t!” James began to scream as the good Dr. West leered over him with a bone saw.
“So, you see James, your legs need to come off. To make you better, of course! It’s all to make you better, yes. First, I must sacrifice the goat to Yog-Sothoth, so that my transformation can proceed without error. Then, I’ll cut into you and replace all of your fluids with that of the goat. This way, when I cut off your legs and stitch on the back half of the wretched animal, your body will accept your new form. It’s all for you, James, bear in mind. You have to get better.” The doctor laughed feverishly, his entire form dominating the room, twisting and wracking with each choke of laughter.
“No! No, god, no! STOP! Leave me alone, you mad man! Let me die! Don’t touch me; let me die you psychotic fraud! “
Mr. Connell, James’ father entered the room, questioning the uproar. “What’s happened to him, Dr. West? Why is he screaming like that? Have the drugs not prevented the pain of the procedure?”
Dr. West set down his syringe of marrow and looked up to Mr. Connell apologetically. “It seems your son has had a negative reaction to the opiates. He’ll be okay, it won’t cause any physical damage to him, but he appears to be having terrible hallucinations,” his words came out soothingly in contrast to the petrified screams still erupting from the young patient. “Please, if you would, help me hold him down so I can make the injections.”