Chapter 333: Doctor Hunter Hunter

“I’ll admit it, this is a new one for me.” Kyle Hunter had learned in his years as a general practitioner that he shouldn’t tip his hand and admit any kind of uncertainty in front of a patient, but this was so far out of left field that he had no idea what was happening, and there was no hiding it.

This one was a head-scratcher.

Kyle probed the young man’s deformed arm, feeling the subtle changes in the boy’s bone structure that had led to this sorry state of his arm.

He followed the carpals up to the ulna and humerus, logging each deformity in his mind as he did so.

My best bet is some kind of parasite, Kyle mused as he probed further, finding subtle and not-so-subtle changes all the way down into the kid’s ribs, hips and legs. Pretty much his entire body, save for his left hand had been wracked with mutations.

“Have you gone to any strange places, eaten anything uncooked?” Kyle asked, opening his computer, logging the deformities and requesting the full battery of tests.

Bloodwork, stool sample, CAT scans…the works.

“No more strange than usual, and no, I always cook my food.” The young man said.

“Hmm.” Kyle hummed as he logged the order and turned back to the young man watching him patiently.

“And you’re sure this isn’t congenital? This is the first time I’ve seen anything like this. We’ll run a full battery of tests to try and figure out what’s going on, but there’s a strong chance you’ll have to be referred to a specialist.”

Kyle slipped on his stethoscope and listened to the kid’s heart, looking for any other problems that might slip past if he was too focused on the obvious.

The kid’s heart sounded strong. Almost unnaturally strong.

“like a drum.” Kyle mused aloud, slipping the earpieces down his neck and scooting his chair back to his station, grabbing his reflex hammer and tapping the kid’s knees.

Nothing obviously wrong with the nerves. Whatever it is isn’t messing with his spine.

Pupillary response was also good. Pretty fast, actually… Kyle frowned, flickering the pen light back and forth over the kid’s eye, watching as the pupil snapped open and shut at inhuman speed. He couldn’t even see the transition with his naked eye. One instant they were dilated, and the next they were contracted, and vice versa.

Kyle was halfway to the next test when his mind caught up with his own observations.

Inhuman speed.

Kyle broke out in a cold sweat.

He’d heard a few horror stories about…monsters coming from the wilderness the last few years. Monsters wearing the skin of hikers, who would brutally slaughter their friends and family.

Kyle considered himself a rational man who didn’t give credence to rumors and make-believe, but the rumors of monsters were everywhere, and they had taken up residence in the back of his mind.

As his grandfather used to say: where there’s smoke, there’s fire.

Kyle cleared his throat, trying to hide his nervousness. Gotta pull yourself together, nothing proves this kid isn’t human…other than the weird flipper-hand, messed up bones, unnaturally strong vitals, and eyes that can snap his iris open and shut faster than a machine could.

“I’m just gonna take a blood sample.” Kyle said, pulling out his draw kit.

“What for?” The kid asked, watching Kyle with predatory intensity that made his hair stand on end.

“For the blood tests?” Kyle lied. Well, it was still going to be a test of sorts, but probably not to find the source of the deformations.

Kyle took out the needle and put one of the vials on it, swabbed the crook of the kid’s arm and gently pressed the needle into the young man’s skin.

A moment later, Kyle withdrew the needle. The thin steel had blunted and rolled up against the kid’s skin.

“Is that normal?” The kid asked, watching Kyle staring at the bent needle.

“It happens.” Kyle lied, standing up and backing away on trembling legs. “Sometimes we get a bad batch of needles and they’ll roll up instead of doing their job. I’ll just go…get a needle from a different batch.”

“Any advice for how to fix my arm?” the kid asked as Kyle backed towards the door.

“Surgery and lots of physical therapy,” Kyle said, maintaining a straight face as he gathered up his clipboard and pen, trying to look at normal as possible. “You may need someone to help you getting dressed. Do you have a spouse, girl slash boyfriend or caregiver you can rely on?”

The kid held up his left hand to forestall any further questions.

“No need, I can move things with my mind.” The kid said. A moment later, the nearby pen he’d been using lifted up and spun around on its own.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

Kyle’s skin broke out in a cold sweat as he got the final confirmation that this young man didn’t belong here. The thought echoed in his mind with unnatural intensity, growing in volume as rebounded through him.

Doesn’t belong, doesn’t belong, DOESN’T BELONG!

What is going on!? Kyle thought as his stomach churned painfully, forcing him to his knees, his very bones vibrating and creaking as something washed through him, bringing with it a certainty that this young man had to DIE!

Across the room, William Oh watched as the doctor collapsed to his knees, the ridges of his spine sharpening and protruding out of his back as he groaned in pain.

“That one lasted longer than any of the others.” Will mused to himself, yanking himself out of the room as the doctor leapt after him, his fingers lengthening into claws while his jaw seemed to fall off.

As soon as Will was past the doorway, a web of miasma snapped into place across the door, catching the charging doctor and wrapping him up in restraining magic.

He flopped to the ground and glared at Will as the transformation continued, his hair falling off, the shape of his skull slowly shifting.

“Kyle, are you still in there?” Will asked, keeping his voice calm and smooth.

The monster’s keening cries dwindled to soft hisses as it glared back at him.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Will asked, holding up a single finger.

Dr. Hunter struggled against the webbing, raising a single hand into Will’s line of sight before curling his fingers inward.

And finally, extending his middle finger.

“I guess he’s still in there.” Will said.

“Fascinating.” Loth said, peering down at the doctor, who began hissing and struggling harder as soon as it saw the dragonkin.

“It seems as though their minds are preserved in a delicate balance and as soon as things happen that are beyond their expected ‘normal’, they rapidly spiral out of control.

“That’s horrifying.” Mason said.

“If it makes you feel any better, they’re probably copies of an original. Echoes of memory created by the floor itself rather than individuals.” Loth replied.

Mason frowned. “Not really, if anything that’s worse. are you saying this Floor is magicking up these people from nothing? I thought there had to be a living creature as the base of a monster.”

“Usually.” Will said. “This guy was a perfectly rational human until we tilted him. It felt like talking to a fully-realized adult who has lived their entire lives. I think it was lifted straight out of the past and deposited here with a nasty Miasma addition. I wouldn’t be surprised if even their memories are carried over.”

“Memories?” Loth asked, eyebrows raising. “You know, if we had someone without any physical deformities and low physical stats, we could probably get away with asking some probing questions about the history of the world outside The Tower.

Mason was out, because his skin looked like mother of pearl. Loth was out because she looked like a dragon. Will was out because his mangled limbs put the doctors on edge right from the beginning. Plus his stats were too high. The doctor had freaked out reading his vitals.

Will met Loth’s gaze and the two of them glanced over at Jorn.

“…What?” Jorn asked. The young hunter was skinny, looking every inch like a normal young man with loosely curled brown hair.

“How do you feel about peeling back some of the secrets of The Tower?” Will asked.

“Depends on if it’ll get me killed.” Jorn replied.

“You saw what I did, just run away as soon as the doctor starts turning into a monster.” Will said.

Jorn pursed his lips for a moment before nodding. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

Unfortunately, Jorn was a horrible actor, although that revealed its own hints into the mystery of The Tower.

They ‘reset’ Dr. Hunter and when Will located another of the particularly steady doctors, he had Jorn enter the room in the same gown that had allowed Will to enter without being suspected.

That, however was where the problems began.

Will and the others hid down the hall and Will manifested his map with sound so the others could watch the play-by-play.

“Come in, come in, what seems to be the problem, son?” Dr. Hunter said, gesturing for Jorn to enter.

Jorn hesitated at the entrance before sidling into the room, keeping a light stance and his body deliberately facing the doctor at all times as though the man was an unpredictable wild animal.

“Ugh,” Will groaned, dragging his fingers down his face.

“I’ve got some pain…in my stomach.” Jorn said, sweating profusely.

“Okay, that one’s on us. We should’ve given him a better script.” Loth said.

“At least the sweating sells the stomach ailment, Beth said, peering down at the map in fascination.

“Alright, go ahead and lie down here.” The doctor said, gesturing to a bench in the center of the room.

Hesitantly, Jorn laid down and the doctor began poking various spots in Jorn’s stomach. When he dug around under Jorn’s ribcage, the young necromancer couldn’t handle it anymore and leapt off the table with a yelp.

“Upper right…” The doctor mused with a concerned glance at Jorn as the kid panted, his back pressed against the wall.

“Do you drink, son?”

“Like, water?” Jorn asked.

“Alcohol.”

“Mead sometimes,” Jorn said with a shrug. “Nothing strong, though.”

“You shouldn’t be drinking any alcohol at all,” the doctor said, leaning over and swatting Jorn on the forehead with his clipboard, causing Jorn to flinch. “How often?”

“Twice a week.”

“It’s probably not that. You’re too skinny for it to be fatty liver…any family history of liver disease?”

“My dad’s dead.” Jorn said, shaking his head.

“Did he die from liver failure?” the doctor asked with a raised brow.

Jorn shook his head.

“Good.” We’ll have to order you some blood tests and an ultrasound. In the meantime, try to keep your diet plain and simple. No alcohol, and I’ll get you a prescription for some anti-inflammatories to tide you over until we figure out what’s going on in there.”

“Ask a question, damnit!” Will spoke directly into Jorn’s ear through his earpiece, because it sounded like the doctor was about to kick Jorn out.

“Uuuuh…what’s an ultrasound?” Jorn asked.

“It’s a machine that sends high-frequency soundwaves through the body, and reads the waves that bounce back to create a picture. Don’t worry, it’s totally safe. I actually made a homemade one as an undergrad project when I was in college.” The doctor said, nonchalantly flipping through his clipboard and taking notes.

“…I want him.” Loth said.

“Loth, no.” Will said. “I didn’t stop you when you wanted the spider, but this guy will lose his shit the instant something stands out as strange. You wouldn’t even be able to talk to him directly.”

“Just imagine, if he knew that much about one thing Jorn asked, you KNOW there’s so much more we can get out of him!”

Loth pouted, bending her knees so that she could look up at him with watering eyes.

“Not gonna work.” Will said, his face carved out of stone despite wanting to reach out and pat her head.

“Damn my majestic figure.” Loth cursed, returning to her full height.

“You can make a list of questions and Beth and Jorn can ask them. We are not trying to keep one of these monsters as a resource.”

Loth let out a frustrated growl before she composed herself. “I’ll make the list.”

A few minutes later, Beth entered the next office with a long list of questions.

She made it about halfway through before the doctor destabilized and chased her back out into the hall.