The Doctor's Revenge

 The Doctor's Revenge

It was a dark and stormy night in the streets of downtown Chicago. A young doctor walked on the sidewalk as cars drove past, the wind whistling between the buildings and the rain falling at a 45 degree angle. The Doctor was not normally out walking home this late, but he had just finished his shift at the hospital after having to stay late to treat the victims of an unusual car wreck. An accident where the driver seemed to have been poisoned only moments before the car had crashed, killing the driver. The Doctor specialized in examining cases involving poisonings, and he loved to keep and study samples of the poisons that he collected at the hospital. 

His normal route home was blocked by a steadfast group of protesters who were attempting to stop the demolition of an old hotel building. "They will never be able to save that rat-infested building," thought the Doctor disdainfully. And he chose a different route to avoid being hassled by the downtrodden group. The route he chose led him to a back alley, filled with litter and unease. He walked quickly, wishing more than anything to be home in his armchair by the fire. He had not walked a hundred feet down the alley, when four black-clad men jumped from the shadows and grabbed him. 

The next thing the doctor knew, he was in a dark room illuminated only by a single, bare fluorescent bulb hanging from the ceiling. He could make out a faint humming sound, but all else was silent. The next thing the doctor knew, the silence was broken by a door opening with a loud bang. Voices erupted as the door at the end of the room was flung open. Two men in black clothes rushed in and unlocked his restraints, then dragged him unceremoniously out the door. "Where- wait- what are you doing with me?!" cried the doctor in distress. The men said nothing. 

After a few minutes of the doctor being dragged down the hall screaming, the men still silent, they emerged into a brightly lit room full of more silent men, clad in black clothes. In the center of the room was a golden throne that cast shimmering reflections all around the room. On that throne sat a man dressed all in white. His long hair was as dark as the night and eyes the color of charcoal. 

Even in his distress, the doctor still wondered how a man could have the audacity to sit in a golden throne in Chicago. The next moment he was dragged to the foot of the throne and forced to kneel. 

The man on the throne said in a most menacing voice, "Hello, Doctor. I require your assistance. Whether it be voluntary is up to you." The doctor looked bewildered at the man on the throne wondering what he could possibly do to help. The man continued, "My men have been watching you for weeks. They claim that you been saving those whom we have attempted to remove, at your hospital, and for this reason we must kill you. But first you will give me information about my enemies."

 "Please wait!" cried the Doctor trembling and breaking out into a sweat. "I can be of use to you! I know where your enemies live that I have saved! Please spare me so I can give you this information for I know who you must be. Many of my patients have told me of a man who sits on a golden throne who calls himself 'King.'"

"That is I," said the King smiling broadly. "Give me this information and I will consider sparing you."

"First I need a pen and paper to give you all the information you need."

The King gestured to one of the black-clad men who brought forth a pen and paper. The Doctor took the pen and paper, and ever so carefully pulled a small bottle from his coat pocket. Fumbling it slightly in his gloved hands, the doctor transferred some of its contents to the pen and paper. All of this transpired miraculously without being noticed by the King or his men. 

The Doctor returned the paper to the King who took it eagerly. After perusing the list for several minutes, the King collapsed and fell to the floor. In all the confusion following the King's death, the doctor ran for the door and made his escape, a triumphant expression on his face. Less than ten minutes later, the doctor was in his armchair by the fire, inwardly blessing the cold weather and his decision to wear gloves that day.

Author's Note:

The story opens with a fisherman telling a story of a physician's revenge on a king. I chose this story because of the characters and the plot of the story. In the original story, the Physician was brought before a Greek king because he believed the Physician was a spy and must be executed. The Physician managed to persuade the king to spare his life long enough to be able to apply a poison to a book. He had claimed that his head would come back to life and tell him a secret to spark the King's interest. The banter continued between the King and the Physician. The Physician tried to persuade the King to spare him long enough to put his revenge plan in play. After some time, the King had the Physician beheaded. The King believed him, however, and after killing the Physician, he grabbed the book and tried to read it. The physician's head, reanimated by the book, celebrated as the king died from the poison that the Physician had put on the book. This part of the story is what really inspired me to write my story. I chose to change some details a little but kept with the same theme of besting a dictator bent on killing the main character.

The story ended as being a cautionary tale being told by a fisherman to a genius who wanted to be released from his vase. The fisherman did not want to be killed by the genius, so he told him that revenge story. The fisherman opened the lid and released the genius, comforted by his assurances that he will help the fisherman. The genius kicked the vase into the sea to scare the fisherman, and then kept his word to help the fisherman.

Story source:  The Arabian Nights' Entertainments by Andrew Lang and illustrated by H. J. Ford (1898). The Physician's Revenge

Image Source: Tears of Lys by Awoiaf Westeros. 2017. Poison.