Table of Contents

I lay awake in my bed. Staring straight up at the ceiling. My lip trembled as tears glistened in my eyes. I was still. As still as I could be. Just staring. The room was silent aside from the whir of the fan overhead and my occasional whimper.

I could feel sweat dripping off my body as I lay there. Motionless. I was hot beneath my blankets, but I didn’t want to take them off. I didn’t want to see what lay beneath them.

I could feel it. I could feel it and it terrified me. I was more scared than I had ever been in my life. My hands throbbed with pain. More than they had the day prior. Both of them pulsating with that deep ache. I could feel cold flesh upon my normal hands. All over them.

I didn’t want to look. I didn’t want to see what had become of my hands now. But I knew I had to eventually. If not to get help for them, then at least to eat.

I slowly drew my hands out from under the blanket. A sob crawling up my throat as I saw what had become of them over night.

They hardly looked like hands now. They more closely resembled misshapen lumps of meat. Grayed and rotten meat. Crammed between each and every finger on my hand was at least two more of the grayed, limp fingers. Exactly like the one that had appeared the day prior. It was like a twisted knot of flesh. The dead fingers flopping and slapping as my hand moved. It made moving my real fingers nearly impossible as they crowded and choked them out. I couldn’t even make a fist anymore. The growth of fingers had rendered my hands essentially useless.

I lay there for a few moments. Just staring at my hands and crying. I didn’t know what was happening. Just a few days ago I had been fine. More than fine even. Things were looking up for me and now there I was. Some strange, disgusting disease that was slowly malforming my hands…. And judging by the aching pain in my feet, I could only assume it was afflicting them as well.

The sunlight had begun to pierce through my window. I dont know how long I was lay there for, but eventually I knew I had to move. I couldn’t just stay there. As much as I wished I could just go back to sleep. As was becoming the usual, I was absolutely exhausted despite just waking up.

I sat up in bed, careful to avoid any unnecessary pressure on my hands as I slid my feet out from the covers. Despaired to find my earlier assumptions proven correct. My feet were in the same state as my hands. Honestly probably even worse. As it looked like I had far more toes than I did fingers.

Moving around was hell. Just taking steps made my feet blister in pain. I knew immediately that driving was out of the question. With my feet and hands both nearly useless, I was left with no other choice.

I grabbed my cellphone from the countertop. Using a touchscreen device proved just as difficult as everything else had. As all my extra digits kept getting in the way. But eventually I was able to work it enough to dial in three numbers….

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” The operator spoke. I had failed to put the phone on speaker, so I was bent at the waist, face close to the phone as it sat on the counter. I shifted from foot to foot, trying to alleviate the pain as much as possible.

“Hello, my name is Amanda Cuttler. I live in Apartment 410, Lake End Apartments, on Bullard Avenue. Its…. My hands and feet. They’re covered in…. Growths. And it hurts to put any kind of pressure on them. I need an ambulance to the hospital please.”

Hurray. Another massive bill to deal with.

“Yes ma’am. Someone is on the way. Are you feeling dizzy or lightheaded? Are you experiencing any chest pains?”

“No ma’am. Everything else feels fine. Its just my hands. But they hurt, and I’m worried they’re going to get worse. Please hurry.”

“Someone will be there soon ma’am. About ten minutes.”

I eased myself into a sitting position on the floor. The pain in my feet subsiding slightly . It was all I could do lessen it. I debated getting dressed, but I doubted I could do a very good job with how my hands and feet were. Was I going to need to get a caretaker…? The very thought of which was enough to cause my tears to return. I was in my mid 20s. I should have my whole life ahead of me, not worrying about hiring someone to get me dressed in the mornings.

Dr. Afterthought will help me. I thought out of nowhere. It was at least a little reassurance in all this chaos and uncertainty. Everyone seemed to agree that he was an amazing doctor, despite how outlandish or eccentric he is. Dr. Afterthought is the best doctor around.

That was where the paramedics found me ten minutes later. Sitting on the floor of my kitchen, leaned up against the counter, with tears streaking my eyes. One of them took a look at my hands and feet on the spot. I saw the look of disgust that briefly flashed through his eyes. He was well trained to hide it, but I noticed it anyways.

“Have your hands and feet always been like this?” He asked me as the two of them helped me to my feet. I was supported between them, an arm over each one’s shoulders. Like a wounded soldier in a movie.

“No. This just started happening out of nowhere.”

I was offered no explanation by the two of them. Not that I could blame them. They gave me words of encouragement as they loaded me up onto a gurney, but they rang hollow in my ears.

“Wait.” I reached out to grab the paramedic’s arm, wincing as my hand flashed with fresh pain as I did so. “My…. Hands and feet….. Please. Can you cover them? I don’t want the other residents to see it.” I begged him. With a polite smile, the paramedic obliged and covered me up with a thin sheet. It wasn’t much. But it was enough to shield me from the residents as they poked out of their doors and watched from behind their peepholes.

One ounce of luck I did have was the fact that there was only one hospital in my town. Lake Herald General. Something within told me that as soon as Dr. Afterthought heard of my worsened condition, he would be right there to see me as soon as possible. I wouldn’t have to worry for a transfer or bother with a doctor that had no idea what they were doing. I was going to go straight to the best.

My hunch proved correct. Not even seconds after I had been wheeled inside of LHGH was a familiar shrewd voice calling out to the paramedics.

“I’ll take her from here.” Nurse Typha stepped up and laid her hand upon the gurney’s rail. “She doesn’t need the emergency room. Her doctor is already waiting upstairs.”

Whether it was the commanding tone of her voice or knowledge of the rumors surrounding Dr. Afterthought, the paramedics seemed to immediately take a step back. Removing their hands from the gurney and offering no resistance.

“Thank you.” Nurse Typha regarded the two with her cold eyes, before stepping behind the gurney and pushing me down the hall. “Dr. Afterthought is eager to see you, Miss Cuttler. He heard about the progression of your…. Illness.”

I said nothing in return.

Before I knew it I wheeled back into the same room I was in yesterday on the fourth floor. Nurse Typha helped me onto the bed. Where I lay in wait for the doctor to arrive.

It took him longer than it had the day prior. I was been laying in wait for about 30 minutes by the time the door swung open and Dr. Afterthought stepped back through.

“We have to stop meeting like this, Miss Cuttler.” The doctor gave a laugh that dripped with charisma. It was hard not to feel comforted in his presence. “I read the report from the paramedics and Nurse Typha…. I hear the condition has worsened?” He kicked a chair over with his foot and slumped down into it. Leaning forward on his knees as he appraised me.

“Yes, doctor. Much, much worse.” I held out my hand for him to see. I was expecting a recoil, or at least a flash of disgust like the paramedics had. But through the reflective lens of his glasses, I could see nothing but my own scared visage.

The doctor took my hand in his and began to look it over.

“Oh my…. Its progressed incredibly fast. To think yesterday there were only six fingers on this hand. This all happened over night?”

“Yes.” I nodded, holding back a yelp of pain as he began to individually pull on and inspect my various fingers. “When I went to bed it was the same as yesterday. And then I woke up this morning to…. This. On my hands and feet.”

“Interesting.” Dr. Afterthought gently lay my hand back down on the bed. “And you still can’t feel anything on them? Can’t move them at all?”

“No. They’re almost completely numb. Aside from the ache that happens when someone puts pressure on them.”

“Its possible that the pain is simply a reaction of your body against the foreign placement of the digits. I doubt its a case of immune system attacking them, because by far and away these fingers are made up of your cells.” Dr. Afterthought reached over to the counter and pulled a clipboard into his lap. “We got your lab results back this morning. I had them marked urgent so we could have them back as soon as possible.”

“What did they say? Do you know what the problem is now?” I couldn’t help but get antsy at the idea. I sat up in bed, eagerly leaning forward as I waited for whatever the doctor may say next. Whether it be good news…. Or bad.

“Simply put, it seems to me that your body cells have been undergoing massive amounts of growth when you go to sleep. I’m sure you’ve heard the factoid about your body growing more when you sleep, right?”

“I thought that was just a myth?” I asked him with a cock of my head.

“Mostly. But not quite. Sleep does play a major part in the body’s rest and repair cycle. So when you go to sleep, your body starts…. Well, in your case? Basically replicating itself. This explains the immense hunger you’ve been feeling, as well as your fatigue.”

“Is that even possible? It sounds like something out of a sci-fi story…. Are you sure that’s the case?”

“Nothing is 100% certain, Miss Cuttler.” Dr. Afterthought sets the clipboard back down and stands up. “If you want a more common name to assign to it, then you might consider it a type of cancer. Just instead of forming tumors, your body is developing additional parts.”

“Just my luck. Of course I had to be the one to spontaneously develop a new type of cancer.” I sighed and flopped back down onto the pillow behind me. I stared up at the buzzing lights above. Thoughts whirred through my head, but one in particular was most prominent.

“Is it…. Going to get worse?” I asked in a voice that sounded much weaker than I had intended.

Dr. Afterthought stopped what he was doing. His back still turned to me.

“Yes. I would say so. I would assume every time you go to sleep, your body will begin the process all over again. And continue to add body parts.”

“Is there nothing we can do to…. I don’t know. Slow it down? At least?”

“At the moment, no. There isn’t. This isn’t exactly a pre-existing condition, Miss Cuttler. We could try any number of treatments. Chemotherapy, amputation, hormone blockers, but the fact of the matter is that we just don’t have enough information.”

Finally the doctor turned back around, and I got a glimpse of what he had been doing the entire time. In his hand was the large metal syringe I had seen on my first day here. When I received my vaccinations.

“Then what is that for?” I tried to point at it. But. Well…. It wasn’t exactly effective given my situation.

“An attempt.” Dr. Afterthought flicked the syringe, making the slightly yellow fluid within wave around. The fluid looked remarkably similar to the flu vaccine I had received before. I wondered if they were similar. But what did I know? I wasn’t a doctor. “With your permission Miss Cuttler, I’d like to try some experimental medicines on you. In an attempt to cure your condition. Or at least inhibit it.”

“Yes. Fine. Whatever. Just do it.” I answered quickly. I was desperate at this point and ready to try anything. He could offer to attempt bloodletting me and at this point? I’d allow it.

“Splendid.” The doctor set the syringe down momentarily and removed from his pocket an old school tape recorder. “Sorry, I know you can’t really sign anything right now. So if I could just get you to repeat the following onto this recording it would be great.”

“Just say “My name is Amanda Cuttler, and I hereby grant full permission to Dr. Afterthought to test upon, and perform, any medical procedure that he sees fit.” He pressed the record buttons and held it out to me.

I opened my mouth to repeat the phrase. But…. Paused. Just for a moment. As I considered what I was being told to repeat. Full permission? Any medical procedure? This felt like the kind of thing I should have a lawyer look at first….

No. No I was just being ridiculous.

I gazed upon Dr. Afterthought’s shrouded face as he held the recorder out towards me. The edges of a smile barely visible past his black face mask. I knew I could trust him. Dr. Afterthought was the best doctor around. Strange cases like this were his specialty, after all. Wasn’t that the whole reason for the seclusion of the fourth floor after all?

Yes. Yes, I could trust him. He was the best. He was the only one that could help me.

I repeated the phrase directly into the recorder. Dr. Afterthought hit the stop button and pocketed his device. I swear just for a moment, I thought the lights in the room grew just a bit brighter….

“Very good, Miss Cuttler.” Dr. Afterthought picked up the syringe and leaned in close. With a quick jab he pierced my skin.

“Now then Miss Cuttler. We’ll need to discuss your continued employment here.” Dr. Afterthought spoke as he pushed down on the plunger, injecting my body with the fluid.

“I don’t know how well I can work like this, doctor….”

“Yes, I imagine it would be hard to perform your former duties like this…. But these treatments won’t be cheap. But worry not. You’re part of our family now. I won’t fire you. We’ll figure something out.” He plucked the needle from my skin and dabbed at the bloody wound with a small wad of cotton.

“Thank you very much, Doctor.” I gave a grateful nod.

“Don’t mention it at all.” Dr. Afterthought chuckled and patted me on the shoulder. “Now then, why don’t I go fetch The Manager for you. And we can get this all sorted out. You may not be able to write, but I think I have something in mind for you after all….”

When I had first started working at Lake Herald General Hospital, I was just…. So proud. I had never amounted to really anything in life. No college education, no accomplishments or achievements. There was very little to be proud of in my life outside of just having survived 24 years of existence.

But that changed when I got my job at the hospital.

In reality the job wasn’t anything special. I wasn’t a nurse or a doctor. Or even a receptionist or records handler. I was just the doctor’s assistant. His unlicensed, uneducated assistant. If he was Frankenstein, then I was Fritz.

But it was still something. It wasn’t retail or fast food. Not that there was anything wrong with those jobs. Its just that getting to say “I work at the hospital” felt so…. Special at the time.

And now here I was. Not even a full week later and I had already lost it. Through no fault of my own.

The doctor made it clear to me that the new arrangement wasn’t permanent. As soon as my affliction could be dealt with and I could properly wield a pen and type on a computer again, I would be allowed back to my old position. This was just temporary. Something to keep me on the payroll until I was back to full health.

I know I should’ve been grateful. And I was. But a human can only look at the bright side for so long, before the shadows start to snuff it out.

I shoved the mop into the bucket and leaned against the wall. My breathing was labored and deep. My newly appointed position as the janitor of the fourth floor was hell. My feet hurt, my hands hurt, and I was exhausted. But it was all I could do. It was the only job The Manager would let me take, seeing as it was really all I could do to barely hold the mop in my mangled hands.

I wondered if I would be able to get off any earlier. Now that I wasn’t working on medical documents. Maybe I didn’t need to stay so late. That was only if I could actually finish my work in time though. And judging by the agonizingly slow progress I had made so far, I doubted it.

I gripped the mop in my right hand, and the mop bucket handle with my left. It was a struggle to even accomplish these simple tasks. And a painful one at that. I had to basically crush those dead, limp fingers between the handles of the objects I carried in order to not drop them. Which in turn, made the aching all the more worse.

I pushed the bucket slowly down the hallway. I limped along on my feet. Which were wrapped in thick white gauze since using my shoes was obviously off limits.

“Miss Cuttler.” Nurse Typha called from behind me. I did not want to turn to look at her. I could hear the smirk on her face. I didn’t know why she held such an extreme grudge against me. But regardless the reason it was clear she was enjoying my suffering.

“Yes…?” I turned on my slow clumsy feet to face her. Hunched over and leaning on the mop like it was a cane. Maybe the Fritz comparison was still pretty accurate after all.

“There’s a bit of a mess in Room #2.” She pointed to the room she just came out of. “Can you please see to it that it's cleaned up?”

I held back a sigh. I was never going to be done at this rate. I wondered if there was a second janitor somewhere that I’d never met. Someone had to clean this place, right?

“Yes ma’am…. Right away.”

“Good. And when you’re done with that, Dr. Afterthought wants to speak with you.” Nurse Typha gave no further explanation before she vanished down the other end of the hall. Leaving me worried about whether or not the doctor had even more bad news to give me.

I slowly pushed my bucket down the hall. Back the way I had just come. And then stood outside of Room #2. The label upon the door was in the same black metal, red text style as our nametags. It read simply “Ms. Barbara Crowley”.

I remembered helping with her medicine just the other day. She was the one that needed the… Teriperi whatever medicine. The one Dr. Afterthought had to prepare because my nails were getting in the way.

“Let’s get this over with…. I hope you don’t mind visitors, Barb.” I mumbled before slapping my useless hand against the handle and pushing the door open.

I don’t think anything could’ve prepared me for what lay on the other side of that door. I can still see it. Seared into the back of my eyelids. Never in my life had I ever seen a condition as gruesome as the one that afflicted Ms. Barbara Crowley. Maybe it was divine intervention. Because it certainly made my condition seem like a common cold by comparison.

Barbara was laid out on the hospital bed. Flat on her back and staring up at the ceiling. She was completely naked, not even a medical gown on her wrinkled, frail body. Her arms and legs splayed at an awkward angle. Erupting from random points in her body was what I, at first, thought to be sticks. Or some sort of strange medical device. They were long and off white. They were all different sizes and widths. One of them, a large central one, was about as thick as my forearm. And jutted straight up in the air. So tall it brushed the ceiling above it. More jagged white protrusions branching out from it like the limbs of a tree. And from each of those, they branched out further and further. Until they formed a complex web in mid air. They were attached to her arms, her hands, her chest, her legs. Everywhere you could think of one of those root-like tangles came from.

It wasn’t until I noticed the blood streaks at the base of these meshes…. That I saw the “sticks” weren’t connected to her. They were coming from her.

They were bones.

I had to stop for a second as I made the realization. Bones were growing out of her in uncontrollable patterns. Jutting straight out of her body, they pierced through her skin as if they were growing out of her. Blood oozed from the wounds the bones made upon exiting, the sickly fluid dripped down her body and pooled on the sheets beneath her. Their black surfaces hid the stains, but still glistened in the stark lights overhead.

Eventually, she must have sensed my presence. She lifted her head weakly, the bones creaked in the air like old wood as her body shifted.

“Who’re you….?” The older woman croaked out at me. I could see that the affliction didn’t just affect her bones. But her teeth as well. As many of them had grown into large, sharp points with jagged offshoots. Her mouth brimmed with blood and I cringed as I watched her swallow it.

“I-I….” I shifted, the broom was still clutched in my hands, so I couldn’t hide their mangled mass. Not that I thought this woman would be one to judge. “I’m the temporary janitor.” I finally answered.

“Oh…. Good. I think the last one got sick or something.” Her voice was raspy and had a slight whistle to it. Like air blowing through a flute. I didn’t want to try and imagine why.

I took careful steps into the room as if the bone towers above would crush me at any moment. I dunked my mop into the bucket of brackish water and then slapped it onto the floor with a wet splash. I could feel Barbara’s eyes upon me as I cleaned the mess of blood from the floor.

“I’m terribly sorry.” She croaked. “About the blood. I’d clean it myself if I could. I feel so bad making you people clean it up…. You’re all probably so busy.”

“No, its okay ma’am.” I dunked the mop back into the bucket and watched as the water started to turn a repulsive red color. “Its our jobs to take care of patients. You just focus on healing up and getting better.”

Barbara gave a dry laugh. One that sounded like someone rattling rocks in a can. Her eyes traced the boney tree from her chest all the way up to the ceiling. Now that I was this close, I could hear her labored breathing. I could only imagine how hard it was to breath with that…. Thing pressing down on your rib cage.

“I’ll try, dear. But I’ve been suffering this for…. I don’t know. 5 years now? Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever get better.”

I glanced up at Barbara. Her eyes still fixed on the ceiling above. I wondered if she was trying to hold back tears.

“I’m sure you will. Dr. Afterthought will take care of you.” I tried to give her some reassurance. “You’re not alone. These kinds of cases are exactly what the doctor specializes in.”

“That’s what everyone tells me. But here I am, still suffering.” Barbara’s voice warbled. I felt bad for it, but I was really hoping she wasn’t going to start crying. I was not in the right mental state to help someone through their own problems right now. So, I just kept mopping away. Trying to get the floor cleaned up as quickly as I could. I’d have to leave the sheets for someone else. I doubted I could move Barbara if I even tried.

The silence was pressing in on me like always. The awkwardness compelling me to speak. It was a compulsion, one I couldn’t control. But I could think of nothing to discuss. So how have you been? Nice weather we’re having? How’s the family? Yeah all stellar choices to ask a widow that hasn’t left the hospital in more than four years.

Luckily, Barbara broke the silence before I could ask something stupid and make things worse.

“I used to work here too, you know.” She turned her head to look in my direction again, bones above creaking loudly. Her eyes red from the tears. “As the doctor’s receptionist.”

“Really?” I asked with genuine interest, not just to keep a conversation going. I hadn’t realized that Ms. Crowley used to work as a nurse at all. Let alone one here.

“Mhm. It was shortly after my husband died. I had been a housewife up until then. I probably would’ve been able to keep on going without a job, but I felt like I needed to keep myself busy. That was when I saw the help wanted ad in the newspaper.”

“Wow. I never knew. I don’t think we even have a receptionist here anymore.”

“You don’t? That’s a shame…. Dr. Afterthought always told me I could come back to work once my condition cleared up. But its looking less and less likely as the years go on….” Her face suddenly screwed up as she started to hack and cough. Wet, thick heaves. The sound of something being coughed up through her throat. She sat up in bed, as much as she could anyways. Her face turned red as she choked.

I acted fast and grabbed several tissues from nearby. I held them out to Ms. Crowley who took them with shaking hands. I stood by awkwardly and watched as she coughed and hacked. Before heaving out a mixture of yellow mucus and red blood into the tissues. She lay back down in her bed. Her face slowly turned back to its normal shade as her breathing returned to normal. I took the tissue from her. Pursing my lips to try and hide my disgust. I quickly dropped the tissue into the nearest trash can, where it fell with a wet plop.

“I’m sorry for that, dear….” Her eyes fluttered as she lay there. It looked like the exertion took a lot out of her. “Doctor says one of the bones is scratching up my windpipe…. Swallowing a lot of blood he says….”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. Is there anything I can do for you? Should I fetch Dr. Afterthought? Or Nurse Typha?”

“No, no…. I’m alright. I just….” Her eyes drooped closed, before she wrenched them back open with what looked to be great difficulty. “I just…. Need some sleep…. If you could though, can you tell the nurse I need my sheets changed soon…? The blood is….. Is very irritating….”

“Of course, Ms. Crowley.” I nodded and shoved my mop back into the bucket and started pushing it out the door. I stopped in the doorway and took another look over my shoulder. It had dawned on me just how much in common we truly had.

Both of us were down on our luck, when suddenly a miracle job appeared out of nowhere and took us in. Only to be overcome with a sudden, strange illness. And forced out of the job….

A bad feeling started to creep into my stomach. But I shook it away. It was all just coincidence is all. But nonetheless, I called out to her.

“I’m sorry this all happened to you, Miss Crowley. I really do hope you get better…. I’d love to be co-workers one day.” I smiled softly.

“Call me Barbara, dear….” She gave me a tired, faint smile. “I would enjoy that too. You seem like a nice girl…. I’m sure I’ll be fine. After all, Dr. Afterthought is…. The best doctor…. Around…..” After that, her head lolled to the side and her labored breathing slowed ever so slightly. Asleep at last. Where I could only hope she could find some peace.

I quietly exited the room, shutting the door behind me as I headed off down the hall. On my way to speak to that very same, miracle doctor.

“You wanted to see me, doctor?” I asked, poking my head into his office. I must have startled him, because he nearly jumped out of his skin. He slapped closed the file he was reading and turned in my direction.

“Ah. Miss Cuttler. You scared me!” He chuckled and dropped the file into a drawer on his desk. As it slammed closed, I heard the loud click of a heavy lock. “And yes, I did.” Dr. Afterthought walks around to the front of his desk and leans against it.

I enter the room and push it closed behind me with my hip. Anything to avoid having to use my hands or feet. I limped closer and stood before the doctor, but he gestured instead to the nearest chair.

“Please Miss Cuttler. Sit. I can tell standing isn’t very comfortable for you right now.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I practically collapsed into the chair. A faint sigh escaping my lips as I gave my aching feet some much needed respite. The doctor gave me a few minutes to collect myself, before clearing his throat.

“How have you been handling the new job?” He reached up and slipped his glasses from his face and pulled down his mask. Granting me a rare, full view of his face.

“Its been…. Tough. I can’t lie.”

“I imagine. But I’m sorry, its all we can really spare you. If you’d prefer to quit-”

“No!” I sat up so suddenly in my chair that I nearly fell out of it. “No, sir. No thank you. I can’t afford that. If this is my only option, then that’s what I’ll take.”

Dr. Afterthought gave me a warm smile and a nod. “Very good, very good…. Now then, that wasn’t entirely all that I wanted to speak to you about.” Dr. Afterthought turned his eyes to the ceiling. As if wondering how to phrase his next words. “You needed an ambulance to get here this morning, right Miss Cuttler?”

“Yes. I don’t think I can drive with how my hands and feet are. Oh.” I felt like I knew where this conversation was headed.

“That’s what I thought…. Did you have plans for how to get back home tonight? Or even how to get here in the morning?” The doctor inquired. And truthfully, I had none. I didn’t really have any friends that could take me. And Lake Herald was too small to have a bus service.

“Not…. Really.” I admitted. I went to tug awkwardly at my collar, only to ram my useless chunk of fingers into my neck helplessly.

“I thought not. But don’t worry. I had a proposition for you. Just a temporary one. Until either your condition clears up or you can at least find a way to get here to work.” Dr. Afterthought leaned closer, his eyes staring into mine. “I thought we could set you up in the breakroom. Wheel a cot into there and you could stay there for the night. That way there’s no worry about you driving.”

That was not what I was expecting him to say. If anything I thought he was going to suggest he drive me. Or suggest I start calling Ubers. But…. Staying the night at the hospital?

My thoughts couldn’t help but turn to Miss Crowley. Admitted to this hospital half a decade ago and hadn’t left since. I was determined not to let that happen to me.

“I-I think I’ll have to pass, sir.” I shook my head quickly. “I can just take an Uber from here to home, and back again. Until I’m well enough to drive. I wouldn’t want to impose on the hospital staff like that….”

“Hmmm.” Dr. Afterthought hummed and walked around me. Behind the back of my chair before crouching down by my right side. Where he reached out and took my hand in his. I grew uncomfortable as he started to examine and toy with my cold fingers.

“I don’t really think that’s a good idea. Miss Cuttler.” He finally spoke with a slow shake of his head. “I mean, really think about it. For one, we don’t know how your condition might have progressed in the morning. It could be infinitely worse by then. And two…. Do you really have the money right now for that sort of thing? I’ll be honest, Miss Cuttler. The treatments you’ll be needing are quite expensive…. And I’m not sure an Uber from your house, all the way to here, would be…. Economics.”

“I-I know. But….” I racked my brain as I looked for a new excuse. Anything to keep me from having to stay the night in this dreadful, stuffy hospital. But I was coming up empty handed.

“Please, Miss Cuttler. I really do think it’d be for the best. There’s too much uncertainty with how your condition might progress right now. I really think keeping you here is a good idea. What would you do if you woke up tomorrow and couldn’t speak? Or couldn’t move?”

I was at a loss. I really didn’t have any counter arguments. He was making solid points and it was true, all of it. But I just did not want to stay in this dark, dreary place any longer than I had to.

Dr. Afterthought must’ve seen my reluctance. His face softened and he placed a hand on my shoulder. “Just one night. I know its probably not ideal. And I know the hospital can be an…. Unsettling place at times. But let’s just see how your condition progresses tomorrow. And then go from there. Okay?”

I stared back into the doctor’s eyes. He had such a genuine look of care in those big, dark eyes that I couldn’t possibly imagine him meaning me harm. He just wanted to take care of me. That’s what he did. He was a doctor after all. The best around.

“.... Okay. I’ll do it.” I gave a nod. The smile and excitement that lit up the doctor’s face was enough to temporarily chase away my anxieties. He truly did look relieved and happy that I had agreed.

“Splendid!” He stood up with a clap of his hands. “I’ll let The Manager know. I’ll ask Nurse Typha to wheel a cot for you into the breakroom before she leaves. Do you have any pets or anything that we should take care of? I can stop by and feed them if you do.”

“Thank you sir, but I live alone. So it shouldn’t be any problem to be away for a night.”

“Very good! You made the right choice, Miss Cuttler. I promise you this will lead to only positive improvement.” Dr. Afterthought pulled on his mask and glasses, disappearing behind them once more. I was left feeling reassured and safe. But deep down…. I couldn’t get the image of Barbara Crowley out of my head.

And I couldn’t shake the fear that I might one day end up just like her.

******

Several hours later and I now lay upon the cot I was promised. It was an odd feeling to be sleeping somewhere like this. Even sleeping at a friend’s house usually made me uncomfortable. Let alone sleeping somewhere like…. This. In a cold and empty hospital break room. The building was silent aside from the dull hum of the nearby vending machines. Which also provided the only light in the room. It almost felt like I was sleeping in a cave. Cold, cavernous, and unfamiliar.

Despite how uncomfortable I felt in such a place, my immense fatigue would soon win out. My body felt like led and it wanted nothing more than to collapse into the sweet embrace of sleep. Though I was immensely tired, sleeping was the last thing I wanted to do. Obviously. How could I enjoy a good night’s rest when I knew I would wake up worse in the morning?

You don’t know that. I tried to tell myself. This disease is unheard of before. It could stop tomorrow. Maybe this was the worst of it. Maybe it’ll even go away when you wake up. They say the body does its healing while you sleep. But the reasoning rang hollow. I didn’t believe a word of it. If I was trying to placebo myself into getting better, then I’d have to try a lot harder than that.

It didn’t really matter what I thought however. Because regardless of whether I wanted to or not, my body was going to sleep. My eyelids were heavy and my whole body felt like it was humming with relief as I lay upon that bed. Although it was hard, and the sheets felt like paper on my skin, it was like heaven.

But right as sleep began to creep upon me, a noise caused me to stir.

At first I couldn’t be sure I had actually heard anything. Or if my fatigued mind had started playing tricks on me. Right when I had almost convinced myself it was a hallucination, it came again.

A low, pained groan from somewhere in the building. It felt like it echoed through the floors and rebounded off the walls. Rattling my body as I lay in bed. I sat up after the second time. I gazed around the room in quiet panic, half expecting a zombie or some other ghoul to come crawling from the shadows to attack me. Because of course, there was no one in this room aside from myself.

It came again, however. The same reverberating groan that pulsed through the very foundation around me. Then again, and again. Each time separated by only a few minutes of silence. The answer finally came to me. Who the groaning must be coming from.

A patient.

I shuddered as I thought of Barbara. Could it be her? Groaning from the weight of those bones piercing her skin? But the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was unlikely. The groan sounded like it belonged to a man. It was deep and carried with it a youthfulness that Barbara had not.

Someone was in pain. Or trouble. Should I just go back to sleep and try to ignore it? I was sure I could with how tired I felt. But my heart told me otherwise. As unnerved as I was, I couldn’t just sit by while someone groaned in agony. What if someone was dying? Would I be able to live with myself if I let someone die just because I was afraid?

I stood up from the bed. Wavering on my tired legs and wincing as fresh pain shot through my feet. It almost made me want to groan. I decided I would go have a look. Just a quick check in on whoever is making that wretched sound. If they were more or less okay, I’d go back to bed. But if they needed help, I could call Dr. Afterthought. Or maybe fetch one of the doctors or nurses from downstairs.

Though considering how superstitious everyone was of Dr. Afterthought and his workforce, I doubted I would get much help.

I crept forward and eased open the break room door. Looking out into the quiet and dark hallways of the fourth floor. The main lights were turned off, but there were still a few here or there that provided slight illumination to the area. Giving it an almost otherworldly appearance.

It felt strange to be walking around the hospital in what was essentially pajamas. I’d been given a pair of sweats to wear tonight while my scrubs were being washed. I was just thankful it wasn’t a medical gown….

Something odd came to my attention as I crept through the halls. At the far end of the staff hallway there was light beaming out from under a door. It was coming from The Manager’s office.

He’s still here? I thought to myself as I slipped my phone from my pocket. I clicked it on and checked the time. 2:30 AM. And I thought I worked bad hours before.

I waited a moment to see if he’d come out to check on the patient, but the door never budged. Maybe he couldn’t hear it, or maybe he was busy. Regardless, it didn’t change my plan. If anything it did make things easier though. If I found the patient in trouble, The Manager would surely have Dr. Afterthought’s number on record.

I continued on to the patient hallway. Stopping in the middle and letting my eyes wander between the thirteen doors. I waited as quiet as I could to see if the groan would return. I shifted painfully from foot to foot until finally I heard it again. Low and guttural.

I traced the sound back to its origin until I stood outside of Door #3. The plaque on the door read “Albert Daphne”. I remembered him. His name anyways. His file was the one I had done some work for. What was his condition again…? Poly something. But in the moment its name escaped me.

I lay my hand upon the door and gently pushed it open. Biting my tongue to subdue the pain it caused me. The room beyond was pitch black. I took a tentative step forward. The groan came again, this time much louder now that there was no sound to block it out.

“Sir? Are you okay?” I whispered into the darkness. “Mr. Daphne? My name is Amanda. I work here as a…. Janitor.” I waited for a response. But all the came was a gurgling groan. Like someone trying to speak underwater.

I reached my hand up and felt along the edge of the nearest wall. My hand finally grazed the light switch. With a quick flick the room burst with light. Illuminating the scene inside.

Curled in a fetal position on the bed was the figure of Albert Daphne. I assumed it was him anyway. I’d never actually seen the guy before now. He was…. Naked. Just like Barbara had been. His skin looked blotchy and irritated. Deep red patches covered him from head to toe. He looked bloated. Swollen. His entire body bulged like an overfilled water balloon. It didn’t look like weight. It wasn’t fat that made his skin bulge like that. It was something else entirely. The skin was drawn tight all over his body. So much so that it shown in the overhead lighting. Shining like it was polished.

I averted my eyes as I noticed the blood seeping from his…. “Delicates”. Oozing from the openings on his body.

I edged closer. He was still turned away from me. Facing the wall and hugging his engorged body. My eyes flicked to the clipboard at the foot of the bed. My eyes scanning the information as quickly as it could.

Mr. Albert Daphne

Age 34

Afflicted with Elite Polycythemia A.T.

Polycythemia. That’s right. I knew vaguely of the disease. My aunt had it before she passed away a few years ago. But I don’t remember her ever looking like this. As I recalled, polycythemia was an affliction that caused the body to produce far more blood than was needed.

Specifically, it was a type of cancer.

Just like what I was afflicted with.

I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what Barbara was afflicted with too.

My mind was beginning to connect a set of concerning dots, when Mr. Daphne groaned and snapped me from my thoughts. His voice was that strange gurgling sound like I’d heard from the door. As though he were speaking into a glass of water. I rounded the bed.

“Mr. Daphne…?” I whispered as he came into view. I gasped and my body locked up. I threw my hand to my mouth to quiet myself. Blood oozed from Mr. Daphne’s eyes. Dripping onto the bed. It dripped from his nose and ears too. Leaking from every hole on his face. Just like it had been elsewhere.

His eyes, blurry as they were, slowly focused on me. I was still frozen, not wanting to move but not wanting to leave him there either. He opened his mouth and blood gushed forth splattering onto the ground and onto my feet.

“Is something the matter?” He gurgled out in a voice that was almost incomprehensible. “Why are you staring at me!? I can't help it! I can’t help this!” He spat, his face growing red with anger. Blood and saliva flew from his mouth like a shower of rain. I couldn’t say anything. I was stunned. My silence seemingly made him only angrier.

“This isn’t my fault! They made me take that fake medicine! They still make me! Are you… Are you with them!? You are, aren’t you! You!!!!! You helped them, didn’t you!” His fury rose with every word that sprayed from his blood soaked mouth. His bloated hand suddenly snapped out, moving far quicker than I would assume someone in his condition could. His hand snapped down on my wrist. Feeling like a hot, squishy blob enveloping me.

I shrieked, finally broken from my stupor. “Let go!” I cried and flung my arm to try and disconnect him from me. It proved to be a fatal error. Like a water balloon jabbed by a needle, his engorged hand suddenly burst. The skin that was pulled so tight finally popped. A geyser of warm, sticking blood and swollen flesh rupturing from his hand and splattering across my chest and pants.

Albert howled in pain and retracted his hand clutching it as he yelped like a wounded dog. I started to back away from him, my stomach lurching as I struggled not to puke all over myself. I lost my footing. My own diseased foot slipping in the puddle of blood that had covered the floor. My world inverted as I fell backwards. And then all at once, everything went dark.

I swam through the darkness, pulled from my terrible nightmares by voices that buzzed around me. Nightmares of blood, and flesh, and bone. I cracked my eyes open, the harsh glow of the hospital lights were over head. It took me a second to remember why I was here. But soon enough the terror of the day prior came rushing back to me. The sickening diagnosis, the fact I had to stay the night at the hospital, and the encounters with both Barbara Crowley and Albert Daphne.

I was laying in my bed. No longer soaked in blood. Though my bed wasn’t in the break room anymore. I recognized the area as Patient Room #12. The same one I had been in the past two days prior.

“Look who’s finally awake.” Came the chipper voice of Dr. Afterthought. He leaned over me, smiling behind his face mask. “Good morning Miss Cuttler. How are you feeling today?”

I pushed myself up on the bed. Wincing as I felt the renewed pain in my hands. I glanced down and saw my condition had in fact worsened. My hands now looking like tangled balls of worms. My real fingers barely peaked up through the twisting mass of useless flesh. Despite having just woken up, I still felt absurdly tired. How annoying.

How do I feel? Jee doctor. I feel just great. Ignoring the pain in my hands, feet, my body in general really. And the immense fatigue. That is. I opened my mouth to speak, but my words came out a garbled mess. This seemed to surprise not only myself, but the doctor too.

“What was that Miss Cuttler?” He leaned in closer. I had my hands pressed to my mouth. Covering my face. Now that I was fully awake, I’d noticed new…. Sensations. Ones just like the cold flesh on my hands. I could feel it elsewhere. Resting against my leg beneath the sheets…. And filling my mouth.

“Can you open up please, Miss Cuttler?” The doctor took out a tongue dispenser from a nearby jar. I was hesitant…. But obliged. I opened my mouth and now…. Could feel them. Filling my mouth like wads of cotton. Duplicate tongues that suppressed and drowned out my real one. I counted maybe five or six. But it was hard to tell in reality.

“.... Oh dear. That’s worse than I thought.” Dr. Afterthought stood back, he didn’t even need to use the tongue depressor. The problem was obvious. “And here I thought it was only your legs….”

My legs? I tried to ask. But thanks to my tongues, it just came out as an unintelligible slurry of sounds.

The doctor seemed to get the idea though. As he gently reached over and peeled back the blankets of my cot. Revealing…. A third leg. It was fully formed. From hip all the way down to its cold gray toes. It seemed to grow out of my left leg. Right where the hip bone was. And as if to make it even more of a cruel joke than it already was, the dead leg only had five toes. I couldn’t even count how many I had anymore.

“You seemed to have quite the adventure last night.” Dr. Afterthought stepped away from my bed and stood at the foot of it. His hands on the metal frame as he looked over my body. I shuddered as I realized I was now in a medical hospital gown….

“Sorry about your clothes. They were covered in Mr. Daphne’s blood. As were you. We had to have Nurse Typha give you a sponge bath.” Dr. Afterthought waited for my response, but eventually realized I couldn’t give one. “Ah. Um. Sorry though. I should’ve warned you that some of our patients might be…. Vocal at times. We try to keep them under control during the day. If they’re violent like Mr. Daphne, we usually try to keep them sedated. But of course, we can’t do that all the time.” He chuckles as if it were a joke. But I didn’t find it funny.

“You must’ve hit your head pretty bad. Had a nice knot back there. You’re lucky The Manager heard your scream and came to find you.”

I wished I could speak. Or at least write. There were so many things I wanted to ask Dr. Afterthought about. Like why The Manager was here at two AM. Or about the illnesses of the patients we treat here. The…. Similarities were bugging me. But my disease had now robbed me of yet another basic function.

“You’ve been out all day.” The doctor continued catching me up to speed. “I was honestly starting to get concerned. Its-” The doctor pulled out a pocket watch of all things and clicked it open. “5PM now. So you’ve probably slept a good fifteen hours…. So that probably explains the increased growth.”

I could practically feel my heart drop to my stomach. It was 5PM? I had slept a whole day away. Unconscious and dreaming. Stuck while my body destroyed itself. Not to mention a whole day’s pay was gone. I couldn’t help it. It was the last straw. The tears that had been building within me for days now finally broke free. I sniffled quietly as the tears started to run down my cheeks. I just wanted to tear each and every one of these wretched body parts off. I wanted to rip off this medical gown and jump out the nearest window. I wanted to run. I wanted fresh air. I wanted to see colors other than that putrid red and suffocating black. I wanted out.

“For what it's worth. I really am sorry this is happening to you, Miss Cuttler.” He whispered gently. “It's always difficult being the first to catch a disease like this. The loneliness and shame you feel. The sense of…. Emptiness. Like you’re wandering with no destination in mind.”

Dr. Afterthought had hit the nail on the head. It was exactly how I was feeling. Expressed in a way that I don’t even think I could have. Had the doctor experienced something similar before? Or was it just from past experiences with patients?

“But look at it this way, Miss Cuttler.” The doctor stepped back now that my tears were dry. “You’re going to help so many people.”

I assumed he was talking about the research they were going to get from my lab results. Maybe if some other poor sucker out there happened to develop this same disease, then maybe they’d have a cure thought up for them by then….

“Mr. Daphne didn’t…. Ah. Say anything, did he? When you were in his room last night?” Dr. Afterthought suddenly asked, before shaking his head. “Who am I kidding? Of course he did…. Look.” Dr. Afterthought leaned over the rail of the bed. His attitude suddenly turned serious and stern. It almost gave me whiplash compared to the warm, caring voice he had mere moments prior.

“Mr. Daphne is…. A very violent and sensitive patient. Aside from his treatment, he also suffers from paranoid schizophrenia. And oftentimes has completely nonsensical delusions about the people around him.” Dr. Afterthought laughed at the idea. He pushed off my bed and walked around me. His polished shoes clack, clack, clacking on the floor. He now stood behind the metal headboard of the bed.

“The number of times he’s claimed I’ve kidnapped him is downright absurd.” He laughed again and leaned over the bed. Placing his head right next to my ear. “So if he said anything to you, it's probably for the best that you just forget it. Alright? Wouldn’t want to worry your head over someone else’s sickness when you have your own to handle.”

I didn’t know what to say. Even if I did, it wasn't like I could speak it. So I simply nodded my head in agreement. The doctor’s smile returned and he patted me on the shoulder.

“Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page, Miss Cuttler.” He stepped away from the bed and wrote something on the clipboard at my feet. “As your doctor, I suggest you just go ahead and take the rest of the day to relax. Day is almost over after all. No reason to exhaust yourself further…. Especially not when you already look so tired.”

I wanted to argue. I wanted to be doing anything other than spending more time laying in this damn hospital bed. But the doctor was right. My fatigue was already worsening. Despite having slept a full fifteen hours. I gave a weak nod to the doctor. Not that I was really in any state to be arguing with him anyways.

After another smile and nod, the doctor exited the room. I was left alone in the empty, boring hospital room. Left alone with my thoughts…. And time to finally think over everything I had heard the past few days.

I stared at the ceiling above. I wished it was the sunlight beaming down on me instead of this buzzing, artificial brightness. What I wouldn’t give to step outside. What I wouldn’t give to make this all go away.

I let my eyes close. They felt so heavy.

Why did this have to happen now? Right when my life was turning around?

…. Was it really just a coincidence?

The more I thought about it…. The less likely that answer seemed.

I started thinking over the facts. I laid them out before myself….

I was perfectly fine before I started working here. Not a thing was wrong with me. But the day directly after I was hired was when I first noticed my fingernails growing weird. Which was obviously the harbinger for this whole mess.

Is it possible I simply contracted some kind of disease after being at the hospital? Some kind of airborne contagion?

No. That didn’t seem likely. If it was something you could catch just by being in the hospital, then way more people would be exhibiting symptoms of this.

So why did I develop this?

Its similarities to the diseases of Albert Daphne and Barbara Crowley came to mind. Although they seemed to affect different parts of the body. The symptoms were relatively similar. The body overproduces a specific thing.

For Barbara Crowley, it was bone.

For Albert Daphne, it was blood.

And for me, it was my flesh.

What did the three of us have in common? Besides the sickness. There had to be something to connect us…. A sentence from Barbara stood out to me. Something she’d mentioned yesterday…. She used to work here. As a receptionist.

That was a connection. As soon as I started working here, I also contracted this. But what about Albert? He claimed it was “the medicine” we were giving him. But he never mentioned anything about working here…. But his chart did mention something…. I remembered a line from his chart that stated he used to be a nurse. Though it didn’t tell me where…. If Albert Daphne had worked as a nurse for Dr. Afterthought. Then….

A sudden chill fell over my body. Things had begun to make sense. I felt like a fool for not realizing it sooner. Was it really the case? Did Dr. Afterthought somehow…. Infect me with this disease?

I felt a sudden urge in that moment to jump up and run. But I suppressed it. I couldn’t just up and leave. I was in no condition. And it wasn’t like I could just go around accusing Dr. Afterthought of something like that. What proof did I have?

No. I needed to be strategic about this. I should get proof. Evidence…. Needed to figure out if Albert really worked here…. Needed to….. Figure out how….. The doctor could’ve done this….

My thoughts began to melt into a slurry. My body sinking into the bed as I felt the weight of sleep press down upon me like a blanket. I tried to fight, I tried to get up. But before I knew it…. I was passed out once more.

******

When next I came to, it was dark in my room. The lights were off and the only light that came through was filtered through the dark curtains covering my only window. My head felt like it was full of fog. I was dizzy and uncoordinated. My head hurt with a throbbing pain. I couldn’t see out of my left eye. Was my eyelid not opening?

I pulled myself into a sitting position. Nearly vomiting in the process. My stomach felt queasy. I wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep.

But I couldn’t.

I slowly pivoted my body so that my legs…. All three of them. Were hanging off the side of the bed. I had to manually drag my new, third leg until it was lined up with the other ones.

I took several deep breaths. I had to steady myself before standing up or else I feared I’d fall flat on my face. It was a herculean effort to just stand up. I dragged myself away from the bed and nearly collapsed against the wall. Chest heaving as I took ragged breaths.

Step one down.

Now just to keep going.

I tried to pick my phone up off the nightstand, but I couldn’t even manage that with my ruined hands. It looked like I was walking in the dark tonight.

Before I left, I noticed a mirror nearby, right over the sink. I shambled over to it and looked upon my grotesque reflection. It was the first time I’d looked at myself since the day prior. I looked like death. My skin pale, my eyes sagging with deep, dark bags beneath them. I found out why I couldn’t see out of my left eye either. It wasn’t my eyelid. It was my eye. A new one, dull and milky, had grown in the socket. Squeezing my poor, good eye off to the wall of my optic cavity. Practically crushing it. I guess that explained the pain in my head too.

It was pretty sad that I was becoming almost numb to the disgusting changes and mutations of my body. But I couldn’t let it break me now. Not now that I had a goal. Not if I had a chance to prevent this from happening to anyone else.

I pushed myself onward. My posture was hunched over. My third leg dragged numbly along the floor behind me.

One step.

Two steps.

Drag.

One step.

Two steps.

Drag.

I made it to the door to my room and pushed it open. I was thankful it didn’t have a knob you needed to turn. Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to get out. I slapped my hand against the handle. Pressing down until it opened with a click. I shuffled into the dark. The hallways were quiet, aside from the occasional moaning of Mr. Daphne just down the hall.

I’m sorry this happened to you too.I thought to myself before I continued on.

One step.

Two steps.

Drag.

One step.

Two steps.

Drag.

I passed by Barbara Crowley’s room. I could hear her labored breathing inside.

We’ll get through this. I promise.

One step.

Two steps.

Drag.

One step.

Two steps.

Drag.

I kept pushing myself down the hall. Passing each and every door that I now could only assume housed more people just like me. People that were afflicted with some horrible disease. Diseases that very well could have originated from the very man who claimed he could heal us.

It almost broke my heart to think about. Dr. Afterthought, for as eccentric as he was, still seemed like a good guy. He seemed like he genuinely cared about me. The way he talked and laughed, or the way he wiped my tears just a few hours ago.

Was it all part of the act? Or was I overreacting?

One step.

Two steps.

Drag.

One step.

Two steps.

Drag.

I made it to the end of the patient hall. It wasn’t all that long of a hallway, but the exertion it was taking me just to make it this far made it feel like I had just run a mile. I dripped with sweat. It stained through my hospital gown and dripped down my brow.

Just a little more. I could make it.

One step.

Two steps.

Drag.

One step.

Two steps.

Drag.

My destination was Dr. Afterthought’s office. If I was going to find the answers anywhere, it would be there.

What would I do once I found the answers I was looking for?

I didn’t know.

At this point I wasn’t even sure I’d make it to his door before collapsing and dying. My body felt like it was firing on all cylinders. My heart pumped from both the strain of carrying myself and the adrenaline of what I was doing.

Just a bit more.

I could do it.

One step.

Two steps.

Drag.

One step.

Two steps.

Drag.

I can see his door.

One step.

Two steps.

Drag.

One step.

Two steps.

Drag.

Almost.

Almost there.

One step.

Two steps.

Drag.

One step.

Two steps.

Drag.

I placed my hand against the wooden door of Dr. Afterthought’s office. I leaned my weight against it as I gasped for air. My vision swam in the darkness. My body threatened to pass out right there on the spot. If I did then it would all be over. Who knows how my body may have mutated by morning? I might not be able to walk at all come tomorrow.

It had to be tonight.

It had to be now.

I was relieved to find that the door was left unlocked. It opened with a light squeak of its hinges. I slowly entered as quietly as I possibly could. My eyes darted from one end of the room to the other. Relief washed over my body as I realized I was alone in the room.

I let the door shut behind me. I wondered if I should turn the lights on or not…. But ultimately decided not to. The Manager was here the night before. And although I didn’t check, there was a possibility he was here tonight. If he saw the lights on in here he might get suspicious.

So I was off on a scavenger hunt in the dark. I wasn’t entirely sure what I was looking for. Evidence. Reports. Maybe a big old convenient diary with “Evil Plans” written on the cover?

I decided I would start by looking at the medical charts. Maybe if I dug deep enough I could find out if Albert Daphne did work for Dr. Afterthought in the past. And maybe I could learn the same about his other patients.

I crept towards the filing cabinet in the back. It took a few tries, but I was finally able to maneuver my hands well enough to pull it open. I knew from experience that this was where the medical charts were kept.

There were 10 total. I knew two of them belonged to Albert Daphne and Barbara Crowley. And likely, one of them was mine as well. A quick scan of the labels proved me correct.

I awkwardly pulled out Albert’s file and dropped it onto the doctor’s crowded desk. Using my whole hand to awkwardly flip from page to page. It was as huge as I remembered. So it took me time to go back, back back, all the way to the initial forms of the chart.

I found the first initial appointment he had here. A cortisone shot in his knee to relieve joint pain. Though it mentioned nothing of his background. The last page seemed like it was a report from a physical or something. The details there were mostly meaningless. Height, weight, blood type…. Etc, etc. I was about to disregard it entirely when something caught my eye. A note made near the bottom of the page. It was written in a thin, cramped cursive handwriting.

Even in the best of circumstances I have trouble reading cursive. But in the dark? With only one good eye? It was practically impossible. But I was able to make it out after about five minutes of trying.

Patient has already received all necessary vaccines prior to working here. Can’t administer him any. Find another way. -M.T.

There it was. Plain as day. “prior to working here”. I could only assume “M.T.” Meant Nurse Typha. But that was it. The confirmation I needed that Albert Daphne was at one point, a nurse in this dreary place. And if his chart was to be believed…. Later employed as a janitor as well.

Just like me.

I shut Albert’s chart and returned it to the filing cabinet. There was another part of that note that stood out to me. Find another way? Another way for what? They mentioned vaccines. They gave me a vaccine when I first started working here.

Another puzzle piece seemed to click together in my head. I shuffled through the filing cabinet and pulled out Barbara Crowley’s chart. I flipped to the back page and read the report. And, sure enough. There was an office note detailing Barbara Crowley receiving an injection on her first day here. Just like me, she received the “influenza vaccine A.T.”

A.T.

I’d seen those initials before.

On my vaccine.

On Barbara’s.

On Albert’s medication. Teriparatide A.T.

On Albert’s diagnosis of polycythemia.

A.T.

Afterthought.

I quickly pulled out the other charts and began to look through them all. Scanning every page of every patient. Each and everyone of them received some kind of injection. Be it a vaccine, or some kind of medication, or what have you. They all received something. And every single thing they received ended in those same two letters. A.T.

And in each and every case, symptoms were reported not too long after. And in each one it was something different. Aside from the bones, flesh, and blood of Barbara, Albert, and myself. There was also an Elaine Trombly, with a disorder that made her skin grow 10 times as fast. A Marcus Wheelhouse whose muscles would swell and multiply each time he slept. Jennifer Baxter who produced too much mucus and fluids. The list went on and on……..

Each one had the exact same timeline.

Injection. Infection. Hospitalization. Although the affected body parts were different, the order of events and general symptoms were the same.

We were all the same.

It was no coincidence. Dr. Afterthought had done this to us. It was the only rational explanation. Whatever he was injecting us with it wasn’t vaccines or cortisone or medication. That pale yellow fluid I’d seen on my first day. It was behind it all.

I had no idea why. But this was his plan from the start. I was never some fortunate girl, lucky to get a job out of her league. I was just another spider caught in his web. It was my own fault. The truth had been staring me in the eyes from the start. The strange nature of it all, the rumors, the whole mystery of the fourth floor itself. I’d let myself be wound up. I walked right into it.

Out of nowhere I was blinded by a flash of bright light. I blinked rapidly trying to clear my vision. Footsteps entered the room.

The spider had returned to its web.

“Oh, Miss Cuttler….” Dr. Afterthought’s warm voice floated through the air. He approached me, hands behind his back. Behind him I could see The Manager waiting in the doorway. “You should really know better than to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong. Those are confidential patient records…. Its not something a janitor should be looking at.” With every step he approached, I took one back. As he rounded the desk, I moved to the side. Attempting to keep it between us.

“What do you have to say for yourself, Miss Cuttler?” He asked, but let out a sharp laugh immediately after. “Sorry, I forgot you can’t say anything. Cat got your tongue? Or tongues in this case? Hm?” He continued to follow me. And I continued to back away. But I stepped on my useless, numb leg and tripped over myself. I collapsed with a loud thud to the floor. Dragging myself away from the doctor as he now stood over me.

“I don’t know where you’re trying to go. No where else can treat you….” He planted his foot down firm on my third leg. It made a terrible squishing, crushing sound as he did so. But obviously I couldn’t really feel it.

He knelt down in front of me and grabbed my chin with his cold hands. He kept my face firmly pointed to his. I could see my face reflected in those red glasses. He looked and felt as inhuman as the rumors always said.

“It's not like I could let you go anyways. Not now that you know…. Its a shame you couldn’t tell anyone even if you tried.” He flicked my hands and then my mouth. “How fortunate that the A.T. targeted your hands and mouth so soon. Both for me and for you. Now we won’t have to keep you gagged during the day like Mr. Daphne.”

I trembled beneath him. I tried to mumble out a response, but it was nonsense. I was trapped and cornered and I couldn’t even say anything. I couldn’t even ask a question. If I was going to die here, I wanted to at least know why. Why do any of this? Why go through all the trouble, cause so much heartache, for this?

“I can see the questions in your eyes, Miss Cuttler.” He smirked. As cold and ruthless as Miss Typha always seemed. “But I’m afraid there will be no answers for you today.” The doctor reached into his pocket and withdrew his large, metal syringe.

“You need your rest, Miss Cuttler….” He pushed the needle into my forearm. Tears ran down my face as I sobbed. My cries muffled by the dead flesh in my mouth. I couldn’t even scream.

But soon a sense of…. Calm fell over me. My eyelids drooped closed. My blinking turning heavy and labored. My mouth hung open as I turned limp on the floor.

“Goodnight, Miss Cuttler.” Dr. Afterthought stood up. His glasses almost glowing red in the dim office lighting. The syringe in his hand still dripped fresh with my red blood.

“Tomorrow your true stay at my hopsital…. Begins.”

I awoke on the morning of May 3rd. My head felt like it was led. I could barely breathe.

I had grown more tongues in my sleep. I needed an oxygen tube fed down my throat now in order to stay alive. I couldn’t leave now even if I had the chance. I was locked to this room. It was my lifeline. Without it I would die. My prison, but also my savior.

I had grown another leg. I was halfway to being an octopus.

Or a spider.

My eye hurt. And it made my head ache even worse.

My curtains were closed. I wish they were open. I wish I could see the sky.

The blue sky.

Not all this red and black.

It's hard to breathe. I think I have more lungs in my chest. That’s what it feels like. I can feel the pressure. It's cold and clammy. It makes me sick.

I grew three extra arms, another nose, and two more hands. I’m glad Dr. Afterthought had the mirror removed from my room. I didn’t want to look at myself anymore.

I wish I hadn’t learned Dr. Afterthought’s secret. Life would be so much easier if I could delude myself into thinking I would get better someday. Into thinking I would be cured, or at least allowed to die.

I’m always so tired now.

The door to my room creaked open as Dr. Afterthought stepped inside. He held a briefcase in his hand. I could barely make him out though. Another eye had begun to form in my right socket this time. It was threatening to make me go blind for good. I still couldn’t talk. I still couldn’t move. I could move even less than before. By now my body was nothing more than a twisted heap of limps and flesh. If someone saw me now, I doubt they’d even realize I was alive in here. They’d be more likely to assume I was a pile of discarded, cadaverous limbs.

“Well, Miss Cuttler. Bad news.” Dr. Afterthought hummed as he set the case down on the nearby counter top. “Your bank account has long since run dry. And since you can’t work anymore…. I’m afraid you don’t have anyway to pay off these debts.”

Just pull the plug you creep. I begged internally. But I knew he wouldn’t. He needed me still. For something. For some reason or another. The only mystery I hadn’t been able to solve. Maybe the next poor soul that was lured into this web would be able to puzzle that one out.

“Luckily for you, I have an alternative.” The doctor pulled on a pair of black rubber gloves and began to remove various sharp instruments from his briefcase. “Limbs can be quite useful, you know. Organs even moreso…. There seems to be plenty here. I’m sure whatever I don’t keep, will fetch more than enough to cover your medical bills. Miss Cuttler~”

“I’d ask for your permission, but if you recall…. You already gave it~” He laughed as he started to pull out saws and scalpels and all manner of wicked looking medical devices.

So that was his game.

Whatever. At least he’ll be removing some of this mess from my body. Maybe then I’ll feel better. Maybe I’ll be able to move or speak.

At least I know the surgery will be safe.

After all....

Dr. Afterthought is the greatest doctor around.