Help Me, Doctor

Chapter 3

"Oh, yes, sir, very sorry, please go right in." The lady pushed her glasses up her nose. "Room 32."

"Thank you."

The Doctor folded his leather wallet and placed it back into his inside pocket. 'Psychic paper,' he though, a small smile on his face. Barely a smile.

He turned the corner and began to walk down the narrow corridor. The walls were lined with doors, each numbered with a swirled gold script.

It took his a few minutes to find door 32, as it was further down the hall than he expected it to be. But, not hesitating a moment, he pushed the door. It swung open and he saw exactly what he'd expected;

Elliot was curled up on the floor, unconscious. Her face was covered in boxy purple lines, glowing as if it was cracked and there were a light inside of her head.

A man sat at a desk. His eyes were bright purple, the whites now a dark black. His face was covered in similar lines. A black forked tongue flicked out between his blackened lips. He held two fingers to his forehead and saluted. A pair of black wings sprouted from his back, tearing through his suit jacket. The Doctor lunged over the desk to try and grab him, but was much too late, as he had already exited through the window, sending shards off glass everywhere.

Quickly giving up on that, the Doctor knelt down in front of Elliot. Her chest was moving up and down, quickly, in sudden jolts. He knew he had to work quickly.

He slid his hand under her head, lifted her up into a mostly upright position. "Wake up," he whispered, tapping her cheeks with the back of his hand. "Come on now, I can't do this unless you're awake."

And, though not expected, her eyes opened. They were purple, like the other guy's, except they were different. Her irises her completely gone, her full eyeball a solid purple. Purple liquid spilled out over her cheeks like tears. Her head hung back, supported only by his hand, like she still wasn't completely conscious.

"You remember me right?" He asked, smiling slightly. "I'm the Doctor! Alright, so I'm going to help you, but you're going to have to not freak out. Okay?" He didn't get an answer, though he expected that. But, regardless, a Doctor's gotta do what a Doctor's gotta do.

He closed his eyes, took a breath and pressed his lips against hers. Almost immediately he could feel whatever venom she'd been infected with rush out of her and into him. He could feel her tensing up in his arms. He pulled back from her.

She looked at him, her eyes wide, still purple. They flashed something, just for a moment, something gold before returning purple. Quickly, they faded back to normal and blinked shut.

==========

Elliot sat up, rubbing her eyes with her palms. Flakes of dried purple flicked off her cheeks and into her hands. She raised an eyebrow, but quickly shrugged it off.

Her green eyes looked around the room. Her room. Well, mostly her room. Her bed, her blankets, her desk, her closet, everything hers except for the giant blue "police public call box" in the corner.

Confused, she slid herself off the bed, not even surprised when her feet hit water. There was always about a centimeter of water on her floor. It was the whole reason she didn't have carpet. And why everything was up on high shelves.

She walked across the cold floor, her bare feet sloshing water around, as they usually did. She took no notice, she was way too focused on the blue box.

Elliot reached forward, brushing her fingers along the painted wood. She pressed her ear against the door, listening for something. She wasn't sure what.

Pulling away, she hesitantly reached one hand forward and wrapped it gently around the smooth metal handle. She took a step back and pulled. Nothing. She pulled again, only harder. Then she pushed. Nothing. It was locked.

Sighing in defeat, she turned and sat back on the bed. She pulled her leggings, skirt, and cardigan off. Her feet waded through the water to her dresser where she dug out a pair of green booty shorts. She only ever wore them around the house, they were way too short for her comfort zone.

"This sucks," she muttered, kicking the water on the floor. She pushed her fingers back through her thick hair before pulling it up into a messy bun. She adjusted her fallen tank top strap before exiting the room.

"How did I even get here?" she wondered aloud, now frowning. She walked passed her "living room", which was really just a couch pushed up against the wall, and into her kitchen. It wasn't closed off from the "living room" and it had the ugliest appliances. Her fridge was white and dirty, the counters a weird floral pattern. The sink was small and the faucet was starting to rust. There was an old microwave sitting on one of the counters.

She pulled the fridge door open. "What even happened?" She pulled out a carton of eggs, then closed the door and turned around. A man stood. He was tall, wearing a brown pinstripe suit. There was a trench coat discarded onto the couch behind him.

Elliot screamed and dropped the eggs. She pressed herself back against the fridge, grabbing the nearest thing to her, which, comically, was a frying pan.

The man held up his hands in defense. Elliot held the frying pan up in a similar manner. "Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my apartment?" She demanded. Her voice was shaking, as were her hands.

"You remember me," the man replied. "The Doctor! The good ole' Doctor." He offered a smile. "We met a few days ago. You were heading to a job interview...?"

Elliot knit her eyebrows together in thought. The frying pan hung at her side. "Mr Kiel...?" She asked, mostly to herself. "Doctor?" Her head snapped up. "I remember now!"

The frying pan fell to the floor, splashing water up onto her legs. Her hands came to grip the sides of her head as a sharp pain split right down the middle. "Argh!" She grabbed her hair, crouching down and leaning back against the fridge.

The Doctor walked over. He was still wearing white converse, though they were now soaked through with water. She felt his hands on her shoulders. He was looking right at her. "It'll be over in a moment," he said calmly.

And it was. It suddenly stopped. But then she coughed. Fortunately, she brought her hand up just quick enough to cover her mouth. She coughed once, and when she pulled her hand away, her palm was covered in some sort of sticky, gooey, purple substance. "Gross," she whined, wiping it instinctively onto the Doctor's arm.

He didn't seem to mind, which definitely confused Elliot.

"Just as I thought," he said, standing up. He poked at the goo, which his coat was now covered in. A glob came off on his finger. He sniffed it. He put it in his mouth. He made a face, as if it were sour. Elliot watched him, a look of utter confusion and disgust on her face.

"Incubus."

"What?" Elliot asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Mr Kiel. He was in incubus." He walked around the kitchen, pulling open cupboard and rummaging through them.

"Isn't that something that has sex with women while they sleep?" She asked. "And stop messing up my tupperware."

The Doctor pulled out a small round container. "Perfect." He scraped the goo off of his arm and into the container. "And no, that's not.

"An incubus is a creature that feeds off one's troubles. He poisons them, and then feeds once they're dead."

"Because that's so much better," she replied sarcastically. "So what you're saying is that had you not come in, I would've-" she stopped, her eyes going wide. "Wait a second. You kissed me!" She grabbed the frying pan and held it up to his face. "You kissed me!"

His hands went up again, one still hold the purple goo container. "Yes, well, I had to. It was the only way." He pushed the frying pan away with one finger.

She glared at him, dropping the pan to her side. "Sure."