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Eldritch Horror? No, I'm A Doctor
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After an hour of arguing, threats, near-violence, and three more broken pieces of furniture, they finally reached a consensus.
"We all go together," Ralph said, his voice hoarse from yelling. "Tomorrow morning. Nine AM. All of us."
"Agreed," Axel said, nursing a bruised jaw.
"Agreed," Steven echoed, rubbing his ribs where Ralph had landed a particularly good punch.
Daniel just nodded, too exhausted to speak.
Kai, Ash, and Jack looked relieved that the decision meant they'd have backup when facing the doctor again.
"Why not tonight?" Daniel asked. "If the cultists already made contact, shouldn't we move quickly?"
Ralph checked his watch. "It's already eight PM. We show up at the clinic this late, we risk disturbing the doctor. And if we disturb him, if we make him angry..."
He didn't need to finish the sentence. Everyone knew what happened when Dr. Nox got angry.
"Tomorrow morning it is," Axel confirmed. "We go in as a unified front. Military delegation. Official business. Professional and respectful."
"And heavily armed," Steven added.
"That goes without saying."
They spent another thirty minutes coordinating logistics. Who would drive. What route they'd take. What they'd say when they arrived. How to position themselves to appear non-threatening while still maintaining tactical readiness.
Finally, mercifully, the meeting ended.
Steven said his goodbyes to the others, his body aching from the combination of stress and the impromptu fistfight with Ralph. The Major General had a mean right hook for someone who spent most of his time behind a desk.
"See you tomorrow, Colonel," Daniel said, clapping him on the shoulder.
"Try not to have nightmares," Kai added with a grin.
"Fuck off," Steven replied, but there was no heat in it.
He walked out of the building into the cool evening air. The military complex was quiet at this hour, most personnel either off-duty or on night patrol. Steven's motorcycle sat in the parking lot where he'd left it, a sleek black machine that he'd owned for fifteen years.
He swung his leg over the seat, started the engine, and pulled out onto the road.
The ride home gave him time to think.
Tomorrow we confront the doctor about the cultists. Tomorrow we find out if he's allied with them, using them, or just tolerating their existence. Tomorrow we might die.
The thought should have terrified him. A year ago, it would have. But after getting that eye implant, after experiencing what the doctor could do firsthand, Steven had developed a strange sort of fatalism about the whole situation.
If the doctor wants us dead, we die. Simple as that. No amount of planning or preparation will save us. Our only hope is that he finds us more useful alive.
It wasn't a comforting thought, but it was realistic.
The city passed by in a blur of lights and shadows. Steven took the familiar route home, weaving through traffic with practiced ease. The motorcycle's engine roared beneath him, a sound he'd always found soothing.
His house was in a quiet suburb on the outskirts of the city. Nothing fancy, just a modest two-story home with a small yard. He'd bought it twelve years ago, back when he was just a Captain with a pregnant wife and dreams of a peaceful life.
Those dreams had died around the same time the gates started opening.
Steven pulled into his driveway and killed the engine. The porch light was on, and he could see movement through the living room window. His wife was still awake.
He walked up to the front door and opened it.
"I'm home."
"Welcome back!" His wife's voice came from the kitchen, warm and cheerful.
Mary Bright was ten years younger than Steven, a former nurse who'd retired after their second child was born. She had short blonde hair, kind eyes, and a smile that could light up a room. Steven had fallen in love with her the moment they'd met, and twenty years later, that hadn't changed.
She walked out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. "Long day?"
"You have no idea." Steven pulled off his boots and set them by the door.
Mary studied his face, her expression shifting to concern. "You look exhausted. And is that a bruise on your jaw?"
"Ralph and I had a disagreement."
"About?"
"Work stuff. Nothing important." Steven walked over and kissed her forehead. "How were the kids today?"
"Energetic as always. Emma finished her homework without being asked, which is a miracle. And David tried to convince me that video games count as educational."
Steven chuckled. "That sounds like David."
Mary's expression softened. She reached up and touched his face gently, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "You're working too hard. When was the last time you took a day off?"
"Can't remember."
"That's not healthy, Steven."
"I know." He pulled her into a hug, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo. "But things are complicated right now. There's a situation at work that needs attention."
"There's always a situation." Mary's voice was muffled against his chest. "You're going to burn out."
"I'll be fine."
They stood there for a moment, just holding each other. Steven felt some of the tension drain from his body. This was why he fought. Why he dealt with cultists and gates and eldritch horrors. To protect moments like this.
Mary pulled back and smiled up at him. "Oh! I almost forgot. One of your friends came to visit today."
Steven's blood ran cold. "What?"
"One of your friends. He was very polite. Said he knew you from work." Mary walked back toward the kitchen, completely oblivious to Steven's sudden tension. "He dressed a bit weird, but he was such a nice and kind person. A true gentleman."
She giggled, a sound that would normally make Steven smile but now just made his heart race faster.
"He even brought gifts!" Mary pointed to the kitchen counter.
Steven's eyes followed her gesture and landed on two items sitting there.
A box of premium chocolates. The expensive kind, imported from overseas, easily three hundred dollars.
And a brand new video game console. Top of the line. Limited edition. Probably cost over a thousand dollars.
No. No no no no no.
"Where is he?" Steven's voice came out strangled.
"Upstairs with the children. He's been playing with them for the past hour. Emma and David absolutely adore him." Mary's smile was so innocent, so trusting.
Steven's hand went to his hip, where his SMG was holstered under his jacket. "Mary. Go to the kitchen. Now."
Her smile faded. "Steven? What's wrong?"
"Kitchen. Now. Don't argue."
The tone of his voice, the expression on his face, made Mary move immediately. She'd been married to a soldier long enough to know when to ask questions and when to just obey.
She walked to the kitchen and opened the cabinet under the sink. Hidden behind the cleaning supplies was a locked box. She knew the combination. Inside was a pistol, loaded and ready.
She pulled it out and checked the chamber, her hands steady despite the fear in her eyes.
Steven drew his SMG and started moving toward the stairs. His mind raced through possibilities.
Cultist. Has to be a cultist. They found out where I live. They're using my children as hostages. I should call for backup. But if I do, if they hear me, they might hurt Emma and David.
He reached the bottom of the stairs and started climbing. Each step felt like walking toward his own execution. His finger rested on the trigger, ready to fire at the first sign of threat.
From upstairs, he heard voices.
Children's voices.
Screaming.
Steven's heart stopped. He took the stairs three at a time, his training kicking in, his body moving on pure instinct and adrenaline.
He reached the second floor and ran toward his children's bedroom. The door was closed, but he could hear the screaming clearly now.
High-pitched. Excited. Happy.
Wait. Happy?
Steven kicked the door open, his SMG raised and ready.
And froze.
His two children, Emma and David, were hanging in the air. Not by ropes or chains, but by tentacles. Ten blood-red tentacles, each one wrapped gently around their small bodies, lifting them up and spinning them in circles.
They were laughing. Giggling with pure delight as the tentacles moved them through the air like a carnival ride.
"Hahaha! Mr. Nox, this is so fun!" Emma shrieked, her pigtails flying.
"Higher! Higher!" David demanded, his eyes bright with excitement.
Standing in the center of the room, controlling the tentacles with casual ease, was Dr. Nox.
He wore his full outfit. The Umbral Gentleman coat, perfectly tailored and somehow pristine despite the tentacles emerging from his back. The plague doctor mask, white with its distinctive beak, turned toward Steven as he burst through the door.
"Oh, hello there, Colonel." The doctor's voice was muffled by the mask but perfectly friendly. "I hope you don't mind. I took the liberty of visiting. Your wife was kind enough to let me in."
Steven stood in the doorway, his SMG still raised, his finger on the trigger.
The tentacles continued to spin his children through the air. Emma and David were completely oblivious to the danger, too caught up in what they thought was a fun game.
"I brought gifts," Dr. Nox continued, his tone conversational. "Chocolates for your wife. A gaming console for the children. I hope they're to your liking."
One of the tentacles gently set Emma down on her bed. Another placed David beside her. Both children immediately started begging for more.
"Again! Again!" David bounced on the bed.
"That was amazing!" Emma clapped her hands.
The doctor's plague mask tilted slightly, the eyeholes fixed on Steven's face. "You look tense, Colonel. Is something wrong?"
Steven's mouth opened. No sound came out.
The doctor took a step forward, his movements fluid and natural. The tentacles swayed behind him like a living cape.
"I thought it would be nice to meet your family. You've been through so much, after all. The surgery, the recovery, the adjustment period. I wanted to check on you. Make sure there were no complications."
Another step closer.
"Your children are delightful, by the way. Very well-behaved. Emma wants to be a doctor when she grows up, did you know that? I told her about the medical field. The rewards and challenges. She seemed quite interested."
The tentacles moved. Not threateningly, just shifting, coiling, writhing with that alien grace.
"And David is fascinated by biology. He asked me so many questions about anatomy. Such a curious mind. I think he'd make an excellent surgeon someday."
Dr. Nox stood less than five feet away now. The plague mask's beak pointed directly at Steven's face.
"Aren't you going to say something, Colonel? You're being rather rude. I came all this way to visit."
Steven's brain finally caught up with his body. His training, his combat experience, his years of military discipline, all kicked in at once.
And he opened his mouth and screamed.
"AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
It was a high-pitched, terror-filled shriek that shattered every ounce of dignity he'd built over fifteen years of military service. It was the sound of a man's sanity breaking in real-time. It was louder than his wife's screams during childbirth. Louder than any sound he'd ever made in his entire life.
The scream went on and on, echoing through the house, probably waking the neighbors three blocks away.
Emma and David stared at their father in shock.
"Daddy?" Emma asked, confused.
From downstairs, Mary's voice called up. "Steven? STEVEN?!"
Dr. Nox tilted his head, the plague mask somehow conveying amusement despite its fixed expression.