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Chapter One - The Doctor
0 reviewsThe first chapter of my book. It's just an idea that I'm playing with.
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Chapter One - The Doctor
As Dr. Enstein rushed around the lab frantically, searching for clues to what had been stolen, she felt as if her heart stopped. Her eyes had fallen on one area of the lab, an area that no one was ever allowed to touch anything. The Doctor couldn't breath. "Oh, dear lord," she choked out, leaning against a table for support. "Doctor?" Her assistant, Quasimodo hurried over to her. "What is wrong?" He quickly grabbed a chair and gently helped the poor woman into it. "O-one of the failed experiments... unknown serum 27." She whispered quietly, still not taking her eye off the stop where it once was. "What?" Asked the young boy, unable to understand what his master had said. Quasimodo had become practically deaf at age three, from the time that he first was allowed to see his father ring the bells up close and personal, in The Notre Dame of France.
"We must find it!" Announced Enstein, standing suddenly. "Find what?" asked the confused boy. The doctor turned and faced him. "Do you know of the orange potion that you were never allowed to touch, due to the fact that you are a clumsy boy and I did not wish for you to drop it?" inquired Enstein, grasping her assistant's shoulder firmly. Quasimodo nodded quickly, a worried expression creeping over his face. "It was taken." The boy gasped in alarm. "B-but, but it cannot...but, how...but, do you know w-" The doctor waved her hand, singling for the boy to stop. "Let us go out and find it immediately. Which means no distractions, and no telling anyone about this, do you understand?" The boy nodded again. "Not even that Esmeralda girl that you are taken with, yes?" Quasimodo blushed. "I am not-" "Do you understand, boy?" The doctor was now gripping his shoulder so hard that it hurt, but the boy nodded once again. "Good. Let us go out and-" "Mother!" screamed a voice.
"Mother!" there was crunching of glass as Frank, the doctor's son ran inside. "Mother! I do not understand what is happening! I am in pain, Mother! So much pain!" The women quickly stepped over to her son. "Is it the plague?" She asked just loud enough for Frank to hear. He shook his head. "No mother, it is something of a sharp pain. it stabs me whenever I move and sometimes if I do not move at all. If feels like my bones are growing inside of me at a quick pace, but my skin is trying to hole it- ack!" Frank doubled over in pain, and fell to the ground, writhing on the floor of the lab. "Frank!" cried his mother, kneeling next to him, unsure of how to help her son. "Doctor, what about the formula?" asked Quasimodo, wringing his hands nervously. With a deep breath, the doctor stood. "Quasimodo, you stay here and watch Frank, I will go out and find the serum. And, Quasimodo?" The boy who had taken her place of kneeling next to Frank looked up at her. "I fear the worst for my son. He is acting in likeness to the Rats that the formula was tested on. This cannot be a good sign. I shall go out and find it soon, but do not stand to close the the boy,do you understand?" Quasimodo opened his mouth, but seemed to think better of it, for the boy simply nodded again.
With that, the doctor grabbed her coat and flew out of the lab an into the night. But, she had only walked a few feet before she heard crunching of glass being treaded on. Looking down, the doctor almost scream. The glass that she had walked on was part of a test tube. She slowly lowered herself near the ground and gingerly picked up the cork stopper that was lying there. The women carefully sniffed at it and quickly tossed the cork far away from her being. It had smelled sickly sweet, like warmed sugar, with a strong hint of pepper and mint. There was still the slightest amount of the gray liquid sticking to the sides of the glass, which the doctor carefully placed in a cloth that she had in one of her coat pockets. As she was picking up the last of the pieces, the night's silence was shattered by a loud ripping sound, mixed with screams. Only two of the screams formed words. "MOTHER!" "DR. ENSTEIN!" The doctor raced back to her lab, but stopped dead with the building just in view. Some of the screams that the women had heard before had turned into loud bellows of rage or pain. A sob escaped her throat, but she would not let herself break down. She felt as if a light switch had been turned on in her mind, sending it into hyperactive mode. The broken glass, the empty container, her son writhing on the floor, it all made sense. Who ever had stolen the potion hadn't injected her son with the formula, they had dropped the bottle, maybe on accident, yet maybe not, and it had seeped into the ground. The amount in the bottle was enough for 180 rats, which meant that twenty one humans could be effected, which was more likely to be closer to eleven humans, due to the fact that other animals could be infected as well. And her son was one of them. She watched in horror as the roof of her lab seemed to almost explode and she saw a head sticking out. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the was a low groan from the head and it grew smaller and disappeared. The doctor ran into her lab and placed the glass on a counter, surveying the inside. A table and a wooden beam from the ceiling were ablaze, and she gasped as she saw her dear and loyal assistant laying under the beam. The doctor quickly went over to him and pulled the beam off, dragging him over to were her son laid on the floor, his eyes closed, and a multitude of wounds bleeding. From a quick once over of Quasimodo, it looked like he had been badly burnt, but only on his skin tissue. She knew that she should call for help, but she didn't. What would people think? Dr. Enstien, the scientist who couldn't take care of her own son, so why should we trust her to make us a cure? No, the doctor would take care of this herself.
She pulled both of the boys outside and into the wagon that was in font of the laboratory. Enstein covered them with hay and pulled them through the dark night, to her house, a minutes walk away, two minutes with the wagon. She quietly unloaded the two boys into her house and examined them in the upstairs bed room. Quasimodo was burned down his face and arms. His back was slouched from where the beam hit him. The doctor gently placed a cooled cloth over his burns, but didn't touch his back. She didn't want to push the boy's spin out of line, but she knew that he may be cursed with a hunched back forever. Then, her son. The women poured some potion that would stop the bleeding down his throat. The doctor wiped the dried blood away from his wounds and found a sewing kit. She blinked the tears out of her eyes as she started to sew close her son's skin. She replaced the pieces of metal in his neck from when he had been struck with lighting at age seven. They were one of the only things that would keep him safe from it happening again. With a deep breath she looked at the two boys. The doctor knew that she wouldn't have to tell anyone about this, as long as no one tried to make it into her lab for the next two days. She had no husband, and Quasimodo's parents had died years earlier. She normally didn't talk to neighbors or the townsfolk, so no problems there. So no one could peg her for anything that happened to other people. Everything was perfectly under control. Nothing about this would ever effect her or these two boys ever again. But poor Dr. Enstein. She was so deep in thought that she didn't even notice that her son's skins was starting to look slightly green.
As Dr. Enstein rushed around the lab frantically, searching for clues to what had been stolen, she felt as if her heart stopped. Her eyes had fallen on one area of the lab, an area that no one was ever allowed to touch anything. The Doctor couldn't breath. "Oh, dear lord," she choked out, leaning against a table for support. "Doctor?" Her assistant, Quasimodo hurried over to her. "What is wrong?" He quickly grabbed a chair and gently helped the poor woman into it. "O-one of the failed experiments... unknown serum 27." She whispered quietly, still not taking her eye off the stop where it once was. "What?" Asked the young boy, unable to understand what his master had said. Quasimodo had become practically deaf at age three, from the time that he first was allowed to see his father ring the bells up close and personal, in The Notre Dame of France.
"We must find it!" Announced Enstein, standing suddenly. "Find what?" asked the confused boy. The doctor turned and faced him. "Do you know of the orange potion that you were never allowed to touch, due to the fact that you are a clumsy boy and I did not wish for you to drop it?" inquired Enstein, grasping her assistant's shoulder firmly. Quasimodo nodded quickly, a worried expression creeping over his face. "It was taken." The boy gasped in alarm. "B-but, but it cannot...but, how...but, do you know w-" The doctor waved her hand, singling for the boy to stop. "Let us go out and find it immediately. Which means no distractions, and no telling anyone about this, do you understand?" The boy nodded again. "Not even that Esmeralda girl that you are taken with, yes?" Quasimodo blushed. "I am not-" "Do you understand, boy?" The doctor was now gripping his shoulder so hard that it hurt, but the boy nodded once again. "Good. Let us go out and-" "Mother!" screamed a voice.
"Mother!" there was crunching of glass as Frank, the doctor's son ran inside. "Mother! I do not understand what is happening! I am in pain, Mother! So much pain!" The women quickly stepped over to her son. "Is it the plague?" She asked just loud enough for Frank to hear. He shook his head. "No mother, it is something of a sharp pain. it stabs me whenever I move and sometimes if I do not move at all. If feels like my bones are growing inside of me at a quick pace, but my skin is trying to hole it- ack!" Frank doubled over in pain, and fell to the ground, writhing on the floor of the lab. "Frank!" cried his mother, kneeling next to him, unsure of how to help her son. "Doctor, what about the formula?" asked Quasimodo, wringing his hands nervously. With a deep breath, the doctor stood. "Quasimodo, you stay here and watch Frank, I will go out and find the serum. And, Quasimodo?" The boy who had taken her place of kneeling next to Frank looked up at her. "I fear the worst for my son. He is acting in likeness to the Rats that the formula was tested on. This cannot be a good sign. I shall go out and find it soon, but do not stand to close the the boy,do you understand?" Quasimodo opened his mouth, but seemed to think better of it, for the boy simply nodded again.
With that, the doctor grabbed her coat and flew out of the lab an into the night. But, she had only walked a few feet before she heard crunching of glass being treaded on. Looking down, the doctor almost scream. The glass that she had walked on was part of a test tube. She slowly lowered herself near the ground and gingerly picked up the cork stopper that was lying there. The women carefully sniffed at it and quickly tossed the cork far away from her being. It had smelled sickly sweet, like warmed sugar, with a strong hint of pepper and mint. There was still the slightest amount of the gray liquid sticking to the sides of the glass, which the doctor carefully placed in a cloth that she had in one of her coat pockets. As she was picking up the last of the pieces, the night's silence was shattered by a loud ripping sound, mixed with screams. Only two of the screams formed words. "MOTHER!" "DR. ENSTEIN!" The doctor raced back to her lab, but stopped dead with the building just in view. Some of the screams that the women had heard before had turned into loud bellows of rage or pain. A sob escaped her throat, but she would not let herself break down. She felt as if a light switch had been turned on in her mind, sending it into hyperactive mode. The broken glass, the empty container, her son writhing on the floor, it all made sense. Who ever had stolen the potion hadn't injected her son with the formula, they had dropped the bottle, maybe on accident, yet maybe not, and it had seeped into the ground. The amount in the bottle was enough for 180 rats, which meant that twenty one humans could be effected, which was more likely to be closer to eleven humans, due to the fact that other animals could be infected as well. And her son was one of them. She watched in horror as the roof of her lab seemed to almost explode and she saw a head sticking out. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the was a low groan from the head and it grew smaller and disappeared. The doctor ran into her lab and placed the glass on a counter, surveying the inside. A table and a wooden beam from the ceiling were ablaze, and she gasped as she saw her dear and loyal assistant laying under the beam. The doctor quickly went over to him and pulled the beam off, dragging him over to were her son laid on the floor, his eyes closed, and a multitude of wounds bleeding. From a quick once over of Quasimodo, it looked like he had been badly burnt, but only on his skin tissue. She knew that she should call for help, but she didn't. What would people think? Dr. Enstien, the scientist who couldn't take care of her own son, so why should we trust her to make us a cure? No, the doctor would take care of this herself.
She pulled both of the boys outside and into the wagon that was in font of the laboratory. Enstein covered them with hay and pulled them through the dark night, to her house, a minutes walk away, two minutes with the wagon. She quietly unloaded the two boys into her house and examined them in the upstairs bed room. Quasimodo was burned down his face and arms. His back was slouched from where the beam hit him. The doctor gently placed a cooled cloth over his burns, but didn't touch his back. She didn't want to push the boy's spin out of line, but she knew that he may be cursed with a hunched back forever. Then, her son. The women poured some potion that would stop the bleeding down his throat. The doctor wiped the dried blood away from his wounds and found a sewing kit. She blinked the tears out of her eyes as she started to sew close her son's skin. She replaced the pieces of metal in his neck from when he had been struck with lighting at age seven. They were one of the only things that would keep him safe from it happening again. With a deep breath she looked at the two boys. The doctor knew that she wouldn't have to tell anyone about this, as long as no one tried to make it into her lab for the next two days. She had no husband, and Quasimodo's parents had died years earlier. She normally didn't talk to neighbors or the townsfolk, so no problems there. So no one could peg her for anything that happened to other people. Everything was perfectly under control. Nothing about this would ever effect her or these two boys ever again. But poor Dr. Enstein. She was so deep in thought that she didn't even notice that her son's skins was starting to look slightly green.
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