Random Things

53-59

________ -Click- ! 

            -The Doctor has answered your call- 

 '- - -' 

           "Hello? Yes, it's me, 53." 

 '- - -' 

         "Doctor," 53 exhales, ". . . I believe that the patient won't last another night." 

'- - -' 

           "I see you're not answering the calls again." 

 '- - -' 

           "I guess it's time to check in too." 

 '- - -' 

           "Will you be there to supervise the operations?" 

 '- - -' 

           "You know how they are not seeing another- MONSTER." 

 '- - -' 

           "Will you be alright, Doctor?" 

 '- - -' 

           " I- " 

 '- - -' 

            ". . . see." 

 '- - -' 

            "I understand what you want, Doctor, but- !" 

 '- - -' 

            "Y-yes." 

 '- - -' 

            "I'll get the room ready- " 

-Click- ! 

            "Dr. Wilson." 

    -The Doctor has left your call- 

___-Click- ! 

The lights go BUZZ- ! It shines down on a patient strapped to the operation table. It does not reveal the patient's face for it does not need to; nor does the Doctor want it too. He already knows their faces well. He just wants the operation to go smoothly and quickly. 

The Doctor then enters the room. 

-Click- ! 

The patient squirms in fear seeing the Doctor walk over, picking up a scalpel, as he draws near. The patient squirms even harder as the Doctor begins to cut his sides. The patient passes out after the Doctor closes his eyes. When he wakes up again he notices that he isn't dead. He is also in his holding room. Almost furious he punches a wall and seeing his knuckles bleed; he cries. In his cries he's relieved to be alive still. 

For he now, plans revenge. 

-Thunk- ! 

The patient awakens to the sound of his door opening. His eyes, blinded by the sudden light, slowly adjust. Once they were accustomed he sees assistant 53 loaming above him; holding a thin metal stick. 

       "You'll need to hold still patient - - - " 

The patient squirms away from 53's grasp but is too weak to fight or run. Eventually caught by him; 53 places the seemingly thin metal stick on the patient's neck. It burns deep. The smell of melting skin is like bacon, it could make someone or something hungry. But the sound it made was far too frightening for anyone, with experience, to dare approach the chosen patients. The cries that were made were also far too much for anyone in their right mind. When the branding was done 53 placed a thin cool paper on his neck. 

        "Sorry for that, but that's what happens to all of the patients that survives that operation." 

53 steps back after checking the patient's vitals and wipes off the extra blood and flesh. 

        "Well all I can say from here on out is, good luck." 

53 wraps up the patient's new wound and leaves. As he leaves the only thing that sticks to the patient's mind at that moment was the first kindness he received in 53's voice. The patient watches 53 leave and hears him say for the possible last time- as this would be the last time he's treated as a living being, 

         "Stay alive, okay?" 

-Click- ! 

He's now alone. Truly alone. No one could hear his agonizing cries or frustrated shouts. When his mind clears he remembers the thin cool paper that was placed on his neck. He gets up from his bed and moves to his mirror. At his mirror he observes his neck. He slowly takes off the paper and notices that it was black in color. When the paper leaves his neck he feels a sting as the surrounding air touches his burn. Before he discarded the thin paper he saw black on his neck. He moves his head and sees a number labeled on his neck, 59. 

'What is this number?' He thought. The patient touches the numbers and it feels like a tattoo; a warm one. He then decides to sleep. 

Before he sleeps though, the patients are called to dinner, and so he goes. At dinner he receives a letter; a welcome letter by the Doctor. 

"       ' Welcome patient - - -. 

You have survived the operation and therefore are now an assistant. Your new name has been engraved into you by assistant 53.    I look forward to working with you, 59.

     Don't fail me or you will face grave consequences.'     

 - Dr. W.T.H     " 

'Oh, so that's what 53 meant by. . . ' The patient places the letter down, chews on his piece of bread, and traces his tattoo. 

"Hmm. . . I guess I'm 59 now."