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The Doctor Of Death: From An Executioner To A Savior

"Tick, Tick, Tick... Dead." The sound of death by just waiting for it to come... Sad, it seems. Neal Kirkstoic, a Doctor who cures the sick using death. His motives aren't intentional but that what it ended up as his job with a history known for being an executioner and the right-arm of the Secret Service. "Is it really worth dying for my success? Am I a bad person? My medicine is nothing to be proud of from a man who only knows how to create death-inducing medicine for execution. But working behind the lines, I can do that." May death be my punishment... For Vol. 3 onwards. Same world new death... Let's see how the new kid will do in this continuation of the family. A new threat comes to the new kid and it seems to be a familiar face... "I may not be the 'Neal Kirkstoic', but let's see what if I can do to be his successor."

Sandwich_Author · War
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47 Chs

Isolate Death

I feel all alone but I feel built up and leveled. All I test went dry. I want answers, I want to reflect on that lethal sickness. I breathe quietly. Big sis, Big bro. My prayers are cut off. They want me to leave out the door. Out of the perfect world, I certainly will create in the future. I feel held uptight, hands tied with motion sickness. I can tell that my hands can cut deep like an open knife ready to slice. I started to frame the time as it passes by. I feel differently, I want to isolate death. How? I began

to search the answer, I locked myself in the lab again. Opened the archives, I can tell that I feel like what my great-great-grandfather had to face throughout his life. People are waiting, people are talking about it. The world is talking about me. Not their private wars. I never woked up this morning without a stain in my soul. Brutal yet clean mercy kill. I can feel the medicine that my great-great-grandfather had made for those long research days. It's weirdly effective, it blew my mind that he'd made a very potent energy medicine without the side effects. Remember this was in the late Victorian period, he needs an award for this medicine. Surprisingly at most there's a lot of medicine in his archives with each has its descriptions and effects. So I put my faith in the absence of something that might become better. I'm a tight mess that pierces myself in my distress in this situation. They talk about their freedom from this plague, while I have these strings of mine that holds me down here to work till the wind just blow me away. Tom hasn't stopped working since he took the medicine, 5 hours straight of work no sweat. As he says "This means nothing to me. I have to keep on working." Tom works with his fastest yet precise in his work and number crunching. As I watch the rise and fall of a thousand people every day. Cause I promise them redemption, and that is the only thing that keeps me here working till we reach our goal of saving everyone.

I started as a scarecrow, just standing here. With only the wind swinging me in directions that something I can't control till I became in control. Since the only way we're gonna go to ourselves too far is if there is something much better waiting for us. One more time, then I'll know it. I ease myself into the comforts of waiting for the results of the second test subject. I will accept it at any cost it may lead to another death but we don't know if it even leads it to that point. Tom tried to understand me since he's my assistant. "Ma'am we are built alike in many ways yet it's very different. I understand that I accept any results and you can't take on people dying I understand. We're in the same boat as you we can't simply accept and understand the death of a test subject. How did I accept it then? Does anyone knows what they're good for, I simply know that I am good at accepting

results. Simple I guess, weird at most but that's how I do." I respected his answer and continued. Everyone's secret is safe inside these walls. And all of us are lost from that moment we saw the first death in our laboratory. Each conversation became stale and awkward. It's better off without everyone's request to deserve them and enlighten them. Each word I say is becoming way off-putting now. We may be tired, sleepless, hungry, and isolated but we always come smiling back at times we needed it the most. It takes the design of our lab with nothing to offer and nothing to give during this time since the experiments haven't seen results yet. We whispered to ourselves "Just wait and see." I need to find a reason, a reason. I need to find the answer, an answer. I picked it apart. I need it to makes sense to restore our confidence. And nothing seems to satisfy our appetite for more, so I spare them the details from a bruise of affection towards destruction. Humanity has everything laid out for us. They give up way too easy, they fall face first in a jonesing for salvation towards peace. What am I saying? I'm just sleep-deprived and we haven't sleep and we only keep ourselves awake with the medicine.

I guess we'll work till we start to bleed. We deny our pain, and denial seems to come and we relied on it for sure. It is all I have to say. Things are gonna get better if we stay and pursue that success even if our bodies fall first before that happens I won't let it be the reason why we failed in the first place. No one can hear us, and no one is near us. We can't pretend everything is okay now. If this disaster crashes down and it takes us with it then... So long and goodnight then with it our previous lives. Is this what you always want me for? It feels so hard for me. I can't, I can't... No more nice Hailey. I fully take on this. Now I'd became death, I hold the world's future. Staring down a loaded gun isn't much fun I guess so. You know, weirdly, I kept on talking to myself all of this simply because I can and I won't stop. Or is it that I didn't sleep properly. I think that I have this chance to see myself doing things people wouldn't understand. Even I couldn't understand myself anymore. What am I saying? Damn it. I am Hailey Kirkstoic, the second youngest child of the Kirkstoic family. My happiness is now my poison since it hurts now to see it. Love it or hate it, you can't understand this pretty face and yet you do and you carry on and on. They're just in my way, as a doctor myself. So what's life like? You know red means love right? But you do also know that red means blood too right? Life is red it's both love and blood it's the color of life. Loving and bleeding. So give me a reason to believe that you'll make us leave while I wear this under my sleeves. You want us to follow? You better know how to lead. So just give me what we need for us to live. So it ends here, with me. Accepting and isolating death it seems I'll embrace it if I have to. So go on and survive till we arrive.