Young Writers Society

The Assistant

The lights flicker in the dirty and dank hallway. A girl no less than 12 is pushing an empty gurney. Her short black hair is brushed and somewhat clean. She has a tattered and bloody nurse’s outfit on. Her skin is pale as if she had never seen sunlight. Her green eyes are timid and wary. She walks cautiously through the abandoned room, as if there were some kind of unspeakable evil lurking in the shadows of the hospital.

Suddenly, the girl stops. Her eyes survey the room in a panicked manner. A laugh. An evil, merciless laugh that she’d heard so many times before. She is certain he’s there now. Nothing moves for a moment. Silence falls over the room, except for the gentle hum of the radiator and the distant thrum of cars. Cars with people leading normal lives in the large city of New York. She was not one of them. She had a different life. A dangerous one, full of carnage and destruction.

The girl sighs and stops, leaving the gurney by the phone on the wall. She walks to her desk and sits on an old torn chair. She looks at the heavy metal name plate. Nurse. She cringed. Her name wasn’t “Nurse”, a cold, vague chore that was thrust upon her. She was Millicent, or, as dearly called by her family and friends, Milly. She was strong, and would escape eventually. Patience. She needed patience to leave, to find a way back to the warm, fulfilling companionship of a friend.

Millicent had been there for some time, how long, she couldn’t say. Long enough, though, for her to get used to the sight of entrails and other organs spewing out from a fellow abductee, and the screams; the long, sharp screams that would fill the air as his patients were tortured beyond description. She knew this was bad. Soon, she wouldn’t have any compassion for those who were brought here, to the cold prison where they would die. Suddenly, static emerges from the loudspeaker. Then a cough.

“Nurse needed in room 823.”

Millicent sighs. Back to work.

The Doctor

He was tall, dark, and horribly disfigured, which is why he wore the ridiculous ‘unicorn’ mask to hide him, and his pain. Within the comforting blanket of darkness, he had nothing to fear. He could walk freely outside to retrieve his victims. During the light hours, he hid in his office, plotting. Who to take, when to take them, and what to do with them. He was a brilliantly twisted mastermind. He had once been a promising medical student. Until he turned his back on the good in the world that seemed so distant and futile, and instead contorted his mind, so much so that he felt not much more than hunger and tiredness.

The nurse, however, was much different than him. He had expected her to kill herself months ago. She never objected to cleaning up messes or watching after the patients. She was strong. He admired her for that. In fact, he had grown particularly fond of her, so much so, that he didn’t kill her like he had to so many others, the weak ones, the ones that would much rather beg for mercy than die with dignity. He had threatened her, but she never flinched. She just stood, confident in whatever would happen next. Perhaps she wants to die, he would think, but it just never made sense.

The doctor stepped aside as the nurse suddenly came to the door, to clean up his most recent mess. It wasn’t as large as some he made, but not small. It’d take 2 hours max to clean up the blood and whatnot. He had only examined her arm muscles. They were, as usual, worthless. Weak. Weakness was a gateway to getting caught. He could never get caught. He refused to. If he did, he would be failing his dear Sybil.

Sybil. His one true love. She was younger, but just as smart and quick witted as any prodigious college student. She had left two years ago to Chicago, but sent him letters almost everyday. Up until six months ago. He had memorised her last note to him. It looked rushed. He was scared for her. Very quickly, a wave of strong pain hit him. He missed her too much. He needed to read the letter again. The doctor ran down the hallway to his office and roughly opened the drawer.

My Darling,

I care for you deeply, and hope you succeed in your future as the brilliant doctor I know you are. I do not say the following because I have acquired another admirer, but for the reason that I fear my life.

There are horrible rumors throughout the city that I have sinned against nature with my research. You surely could defend me, but I do not need nor want you to sacrifice your honor and respect in the medical world. This is why I must leave again. To another state, in the countryside, perhaps. I will send you a letter as soon as I find a proper home. For now, you need to carry on in my absence.

With luck, I may be able to send for you in just weeks, or less. I miss you terribly. Hopefully I shall see you soon.

With love,

Sybil Sartomous

Teardrops fell gently on the paper. She had been gone for too long. He quickly wiped away the tears and gently put the letter back. He straightened up, tall and confident. He had to hide the past.

Time for another patient.