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Eccentric Treatment
Eccentric Treatment
★★★★★

© Aadar Atreya

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4 Minutes   22.3K    329


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The cabin was the only hospital in the whole ‘McLaren Road‘. The intense bellyache dragged him to the isolated place. There was no significant aspect in the cabin that caught his eyes. It looked archaic with fungus covering up most of the part and the smell of the Earth post the frantic rainfall the night before was there.He  went inside the building. He saw a bench with its legs dug in the cement floor. There were some leaves of the ‘Sandalwood’ tree in there and the floors were filthy with some dead tadpoles, broken branches and rain water smeared all over the floor. He was in no way happy with the obscure place. There were no attendants to be seen for a long time and He guessed that there were no aids in the isolated cabin. He made his way to the main room where the doctor probably sat. The main door of that room was three steps away from the point hewas standing at. The idea of formality evaded from his mind and he made his way to the doctor’s room. The first impression of the room was its larger size as compared to the waiting room. It was comparably large with a wooden table covered by a saffron table cloth. There laid a stethoscope coiled in the chair and a few drops of blood were shining on the white cloth. That sight was not a surprise in a clinic. An old portrait hung beneath the chair. It was the portrait of some intellectual doc with a stethoscope. While he stared at it, a clumsy hand touched his shoulders from behind. He immediately turned back and saw a tall man with dark complexion. The man had the same stethoscope as the man in the portrait. It made him realize that it was the doctor’s portrait hung there. He was offered a seat. The man cleaned the blood on the table cloth immediately and spoke in the weirdest voice ever “There are no attendants in my hospital. All villagers are happy being cowherds. They do not even believe in scientific treatment aka my treatment”. The man was quiet hysterical while saying those words but at the same time gave him a cracking laughter to keep him comfortable. The man’s voice had the lowest possible pitch and it seemed like the man too needed some treatment. However, he intended on leaving the hospital soon and directly addressed his problem which the man listened attentively by staring at him continuously. When he finished, the man bit his lips harshly and even invited blood. He felt strange and afraid. He wanted him to complete soon. “This bellyache is the result of nothing but the contaminated water that you are forced to take because of your stay. Prescribed medicine means a two week rest.” This was unacceptable as he was compelled to stay two more weeks to complete the documentary. “Is there any other way? I mean I am the director of the documentary. The leader is the inspiration. Please find any other way out”. The doctor grinned which again felt strange. The man rotated his chair looking at the ceiling for a while. He awaited and at last the man stood up from the chair and gestured him tofollow. “Are you sure?” he asked. “If you want the other way out!” the man exclaimed. That was another ‘Hobson’s choice’ for him. He reluctantly followed and was taken beneath the portrait which actually was a door. Things were intrigue,he thought. “Just stand there. I know the room is dark and you cannot see. You wanted the other way out so I am supposed to help. Follow my instructions. Are you ready?”. “Yes Doc! Just be quick. I don’t want to stare at nothing”. The man’s creepy laughter echoed all over the room. “OK! Inhale!”  He did as told. The process went in a soothing pace and I gradually relaxed. I saw lights and different geometrical figures starting from Hexagons to rectangles. Bellyache was nowhere to be felt and so were the worries of my past. He was going through a unique but dexterous treatment. “Open your eyes”, the voice commanded. He followed. The world seemed new and fresh and he looked at the man. The man gave a happy smile and asked him the fees. “How much?”he queried. “Just be my hundredth victim and give me immortality, There lies the SACHET”. He happily crossed the white boundary sprinkled with chalk powder and cut his neck with a smile on his face.

The Treatment that went wrong; horror.

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