Doctors perspective

Chapter 1:

      "Can I at least drive you home?"

      "Alright"

       Suddenly everything disintegrated into ash and smoke. A figure clad in shadows and red eyes tore through like a starved wolf out for a hunt.

        Then, nothing at all. Nothing but cold walls looking back at the huddled figure. They looked at the clock: 2 am. Sighing, they chuckled. Anything to fill that enclosing silence. Getting up, the person took a shower, happy to be adding another hour in on sleep.

        They've been to a doctor or two, not like it helped the demons that have seemed to make themselves comfortable. It's bad enough stating the reality of their night terrors, let alone endure even the doctors laughs.

        People are weird that way. Even if they work a job to help, they will still laugh. Still mock. Still sneer. And, if your lucky, pity you and see you as a wounded animal they would keep in their house and nurse to health.

         The figure walked out of the bathroom, towel on their head, into the kitchen. Almost tripping over something, they turn on the lights.

          In the warm light of the lamp, there stood a beautiful woman. She had a slight muscular build with short, silver-white hair, curves like hills, a high bridge nose, thick lips, and dull, navy blue eyes set in upturned shaped sockets. Water rolled down her body as if not wishing to part, creating an alluring picture for anyone's mind.

         "Bloody hell!" She spat. Clicking her tongue, she proceeded to cover her balcony with curtains before going to put some clothes on as well as gloves, a mask, a hair net, and a zip up coat reaching her ankles.

       Clearing her dining table to make room for a clear tarp, she then proceeded to bring the lady on death's door to the table.

       "The doctor?" Croaked the lady.

        "Depends on who you refer to as a doctor." Came the reply before they shot the lady with anesthetic.

       After a few hours, the woman dressed in what once was pearl white, took off the clothing; Before proceeding to throw it into a beat up metal trash can and lighting a match, closing the lid so the smell of death doesn't add itself into the asthetic of the living room.

       She decided to clean the whole house, especially the puddle of dried blood that decided to integrate into and marry the carpet. Being the evil mom-in-law, the woman eliminated any sign of the patient barging in. Who knows how to clean blood better than a woman? The answer would be a woman "doctor".

       Not caring about the potential danger, how the lady even managed to get through the balcony on the 25th floor, nor even the reason behind so many bullet holes and torture marks- she went to cook some rice porridge.

        Waking up to the smell, the patient grumbled- eyes barely open. Amused, the owner of the house raised an eyebrow.

       "Don't get up" she warned. Her voice just as cold as the depths of her eyes. Sighing, the woman put a portion of the porridge into a small bowl then picked the patient up and put her on a bed in her room. Seeming not to care of this fact, she propped up the lady with pillows.

       For someone so cold, they were actually gentle- like a perfect dream of a mom. She went into the living room, took the bowl and a napkin before turning back into the room.

        Resigned to the fate of a babysitter, the doctor asked,, waving the bowl a little, "You hungry?"

        The reply was a nod. "Didn't I tell you not to move?" She clenched her lips a little before proceeding to feed her.