Isis, the head doctor. Bakura, the assistant in training. Malik...the patient?
THE SPECIALIST
Malik sat in the waiting room, browsing through a pile of old magazines, picking one, flipping the pages, then putting it back on the pile. Medical examinations never been his forte. Especially not the part when he had to remove his shirt to let the doctor apply his stethoscope on his back and listen to his breathing. He'd get questions about the carvings that adorned his flesh...
But today was different. It was just for a shot. Five minutes and it would be done. Tick, a needle under his skin, a disinfectant swab, 'Thank you have a nice day sir', then it would be done.
"Malik Ishtar," called a tall, dark-haired woman.
Malik stood and walked in her direction, not failing to read "Dr. Isis Ishtar" on a gold plate attached to her white uniform.
"I didn't know you were working here, Sis--"
"Sssshhhhh! Nobody needs to know we are siblings," the woman replied quickly.
"We have the same family name," the boy responded flatly, digging his hands in his pockets.
"There are tons of Ishtars in Egypt, Malik." They stopped walking. She turned around, glared at him, then smiled. "Please sir, come in," she said sweetly, indicating the door to the examination room.
Malik walked past his sister and enter her office, Isis slowly closing the door behind them.
Isis hummed idly as she glanced down the medical charts she had clipped to her clipboard. "Hmmm. let's see... Malik Ishtar, age 16, five feet eight inches tall, 125 pounds, no known drug allergies or preexisting conditions, date of last DCT immunization..." Here she paused and glanced up at him with her eyebrows raised, a tiny smile quirking the edge of her mouth. "Over ten years ago. Oh, dear, Mr. Ishtar. That's not good. We've got to get your immunizations up to date."
"Immunizaaa..."
"Shots. Your diphtheria-tetanus boosters."
Malik's skin went cold suddenly, but he covered his reaction with a scowl at the doctor. "You're enjoying this, aren't you, Sister dear?" he sneered. He glanced around the office, and shivered involuntarily when he caught sight of the chilly silver disk of the dreaded stethoscope lying face-up on the doctor's desk. She'd probably just taken it out of the refrigerator, the vindictive witch...
Isis kept humming and took up a fresh pair of white rubber gloves from the box on her desk. "Yes," she said plainly, snapping the glove onto her right hand with a flourish and a vicious cracking noise. "Yes, I am."
"Fuck you."
"Now, now, Mr. Ishtar. There's no reason to be nervous... we're all medical professionals here. This is just a general examination. We'll get your shots prepared first, breeze through the examination, and then you'll be all finished." This time there was no missing the broad and malicious grin on Isis's face. "And there will be a niiiice red lollipop for you afterwards if you hold still and behave like a good boy."
Malik ground his teeth. "Why, you--"
A brisk clap silenced him. Somehow, Isis HAD always managed to bring him into line without saying a word. Like a dog with a bell. He couldn't help it. It never ceased to irritate the hell out of him.
"Now.... You can undress behind that screen there, and put this gown on..." Isis handed him a folded slip of green fabric that didn't look like it would tie together around a starved cat. "I'll be back in a few minutes. My assistant will be in first to administer the shot, and then we'll get started on your physical exam. All right?"
Malik shook out the thin green gown and glared up at his sister. Well...this wouldn't be so bad, actually, if Isis was the only one he had to remove his shirt for. She had seen him without his clothes countless times over theyears, she'd bathed him as a child-- no worrying about strange questions about his scarification! Maybe having a doctor for a sister was a blessing in disguise.
"All right," Malik muttered.
"Good boy." Isis's expression softened briefly, and she reached out to ruffle his thick blond hair. "Don't worry, little brother, I know what I'm doing. This is me you're talking to, here."
The door breezed shut behind her. Malik glanced at it warily a few times as he stepped behind the folding screen and pulled his shirt over his head. Kicked off his sneakers and cursed under his breath. Why were the floors ALWAYS so cold in these places... He stepped out of his jeans and shivered, running his hands briefly up and down his bare arms, nipples perked into hectic pebbles from the chill. The examination-gown barely covered his ass, as slender as he was, and he couldn't figure out where he was supposed to tie the strings together if he wanted the gown to stay on his body at all. Well, this was just great. Sixteen years of studying ancient scripture, able to speak three languages fluently, and he couldn't figure out a set of fucking laces.
Malik stepped out from behind the screen and caught sight of himself in the mirror over the sink. The sickly green cotton contrasted unflatteringly with his caramel skin, making him look like a horribly failed concentration-camp experiment involving bleach and shoe-polish.
Great. Juuust great.
The door sighed open and an un-subtle set of footsteps clattered in, along with a shock of unkempt silver hair, a white lab-coat, and some aggressively off-key humming. Malik desperately clutched at the edges of the gown and stood with his back to the wall.Winced at the icy cinder-blocks against his bare buttocks.
"Hi there! You're Malik? It's your lucky day, Malik! I'm gonna give you a shot!"
The young assistant was about Malik's height but lanky as a scarecrow, with sharp fox-like features and enormous dark eyes and a VERY large hypodermic needle balanced jauntily in his skinny fingers. His skin was nearly as pale as the lab-coat he wore, a skim-milk white that looked faintly bluish under the fluorescent lights. Just about the same shade as his long, wild hair. Uncanny. Very uncanny. Malik had never seen a creature quite like him.
But as he nodded a speechless Hello, he decided that he definitely didn't like the unsettling glitter in those dark eyes, which had nothing to do with the fluorescent lights overhead. Or the way he twirled that giant needle like a baton in his fingers.
Isis's assistant smiled. Wide wide grin, a touch of madness in each corner, tiny blue-white teeth, looking about as reassuring as a Cheshire cat on bad LSD.
"I'm Bakura. Don't worry about this here shot... I've only been here 4 months, but I'm really good at giving them already." An unnerving giggle. "Because they're my faaaavorite thing to do."
Malik shrugged again. "Great," he thought again; "JUST great. I hate shots, and Isis has to send me a psychopath in a lab-coat."
The assistant, Bakura, caught the blond's silence, blinked, then started to laugh. Under Malik's questioning glare, he explained: "No, you shouldn't worry. I won't use THAT needle. That was used on a previous patient who needed buccal suuuuurgeeeeryyyyyyyy...."
Bakura glanced and walked around, then let out an exclamation as he found the needle-recycling bin. He dropped the huge needle inside, then turned to the trayful of vials and hypodermics he had wheeled in on a small cart.
"Can you sit on the table, sir, please? I'll get your shot aaaall ready. Brrr! It's cold in here, no?"
Malik did as he was told, answering, "No, not really. I'm fine actually."
"Tell me why your nipples are erect, then," Bakura said under his breath, snapping his fingers along his newly readied needle, after checking numerous flasks of clear liquids.
Despite the assistant's murmur, Malik heard the comment-- and involuntarily wrapped his arms over his torso, clinging to his own arms in a desperate attempt to give himself some heat and let his nipples go flat.
"I'm done!" Bakura chanted, smiling genially. He walked over to the examination table, almomst swinging his hips from left to right, and stopped just before the boy, looking down at him.
"I'll need your left arm, if you don't mind."
Malik released himself, and let Bakura disinfect his skin, noticing how the medical man felt his upper-arm muscles between his fingers.
"Nice muscle tone. Doing some training?" Bakura asked.
"A-a littl--EEk!"
"Gotcha." Bakura smiled, pressing on the needle and slowly injecting the clear substance. Malik growled and turned his head away, trying to avoid the mocking grin of the future doctor.
But soon the boy started to shiver as he felt cold sweat running down his body. He brought his hand to his forehead, trying to prevent his blurry vision to get hold of him.
"Ooooh--"
"Are you dizzy, Mr. Ishtar? Fear not, this is a normal reaction. Please lie down, I'll get you some fresh water."
Bakura helped Malik lie down on the table, the youth complying totally and even accepting the proposition with a low growl. He closed his eyes and heard the other man ruffling through his items. The blond soon felt something fresh brushing delicately around his face and neck. Opening his eyes slowly, he lazily glanced at Bakura, who was just behind him, looking down at him, cupping his chin with one hand and pressing a wet pad of fabric over his cheeks with the other. Malik couldn't resist closing his eyes again as Bakura freshened his mouth... then his nose... with that gauze-pad that was soaked with... with something that was definitely NOT water.
"You can lay down here a while, Mr. Ishtar. There's no way we're gonna send you back until you're on your feet again," the doctor-in-training absently said to his patient, while hiding a bottle of Chloroform behind his back.
Thin, stinging fumes shot up Malik's nose, bringing burning tears to his eyes and making him cough....
"What the h--"
... and brought clouds of blackish oblivion swarming before his eyes before Malik could even finish the sentence. His head wobbled on the stem of his neck, the room started to swim in circles, and he slumped bonelessly back against the paper-covered table. The last thing he remembered hearing was another stream of silvery giggles from Bakura, echoing as though underwater....
End of Part 1! Liked it? Let us know!