The Last Patient

         “It’s strange.”

         “What is?” Nick stirred the coddled eggs, wincing as he noticed yet another crack on a creamy shell. Was he really that terrible of a cook?

         “Betsy,” came the slightly exasperated reply. Melanie lifted the heavy and listless cat with a soft grunt. She stared into the cat's dark eyes, once bright and green, now empty; her pupils hardly dilating as they stared into space. “She’s not been herself since last night.”

         Nick sniffed in derision, wondering why his girlfriend was so obsessed with the god-forsaken animal. Left to him, he would have killed the damn thing months ago. Sometimes he had to wonder if Melanie loved him or Betsy more. He never thought that he'd be competing for affection against a cat.

         “Just take him to the freaki…the vet. I’m sure someone in there will figure out how to take care of him.” He dumped the eggs in a bowl and placed it on the table, eyeing the other plates of salad, pasta and spaghetti sauce. Dinner was served!

         “Her,” Melanie explained in a chilly tone. “She’s a her…and you’re right.” She placed tender kisses on the white fur, shuddering at the low growl Betsy responded with. No, this was definitely unlike her lovable cat. “I’m going out now.”

         Nick blinked in disbelief. “But it’s eight in the evening! They’d be closed by now…and what about dinner?!” No way was he finishing all this by himself.

         However, Melanie had ceased to listen. She carefully slipped Betsy into her carrier and locked it, whispering ‘I’ll take care of you, baby,’ before heading to the closet to grab her jacket. Fall had hit Middleton with a vengeance this year and the weather forecasters had predicted an early snow storm in the coming weeks.

         “I’ll be back in an hour tops,” she finally replied, leaning over to place a soft kiss on her petulant boyfriend’s nose. “If I drive really fast, I can get there before Doctor Dorian leaves for the night. Love you, babe.”

         In a flurry of brown faux fur and a lingering fragrance of sweet peach, Nick was soon left alone to stare at the empty seat across him.

         Silently, he cursed the day Betsy came into their lives.


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         Although it was only eight in the evening, Middleton was doing a great job at playing Ghost Town. It wasn’t as if anyone could blame its residents. It was much colder than Melanie had predicted and by the time she pulled up to the nearly empty parking lot at ‘Dorian’s Veterinary Clinic’, she could feel her fingers getting numb beneath the evening chill.

         At least someone was around, so that was a good sign. The warm glow of light from the bungalow was a welcome sight. She also recognized the doctor’s car and her smile of gratitude widened. There was no way the old man would turn her away. He’d always been there for Melanie from the day she (at the tender age of five) brought her pet goldfish to have him checked.

         Dr. Dorian was like a father to her, a man who was always there to make her feel better whenever she was down. Only he could understand her attachment to pets, and why the creatures meant so much more to her than her human friends. They were not judgmental or cruel and they could listen unlike her family while growing up. Sometimes she wondered if she was terrible for being glad that her parents died in a fatal plane crash five years ago.

         “Hello? Dr. Dorian?” She placed a hand on the cool steel handle of the door, fully expecting it to be locked, but when it gave way a little, she grinned. He was open!

         Betsy gave a low meow and shifted within the carrier, almost sending Melanie toppling to the ground with the sudden movement.

         “Easy there, sweetie,” Melanie whispered in reassurance, walking into the familiar waiting room with its plain white plastic chairs and rather ugly red carpeting. The mingled stench of animal, antiseptics and human sweat caused her to wriggle her nose in distaste. The small TV attached to the wall was still on, showing the last bits of a comedic talk show – faint laughter from the audience filled the otherwise eerie silence as Melanie walked up to the receptionist window.

         “Hello?” she called out again, only this time it came out as a shaky whisper. Of course she didn’t expect the nurses to be there. It was past closing time anyway, but she had seen Dr. Dorian’s car in the parking lot which meant that he was still here. I mean, why else would the light be on? she wondered.

         “Meow!” Betsy shook again, so hard that Melanie released her grip on the carrier. It fell to the floor with a crash, the door flying open to release the cat that had looked like a lump of fur on her kitchen floor throughout the day. The white feline hissed angrily, fangs bared with venom spewing from its green eyes. They seemed to flash with hatred and before Melanie could get her bearings, it darted down the hall and toward what seemed like an office.

         “Betsy!” came the angry but frantic whisper. Melanie was still a bit afraid to raise her voice for some reason. Surely someone (Dr. Dorian perhaps) would have heard the commotion and come out running to find out what was wrong. Yet, there was nothing. The sinister silence – besides the TV and the low whirring sound of warm air within the building’s insulation system – was becoming quite disconcerting.

         “Betsy, get back here!” Tentative steps led her towards the office, fearful blue eyes darting between doors in the narrow corridor. Most of them were closed, labels of ‘X-ray Room’, ‘Medical Supplies’ and ‘Pet Grooming’ eyeing her movements as she passed by. She noticed a flash of white and her heart leaped in relief. Betsy was close by. However, in Melanie’s haste, she bumped her shin against a machine laden with wires and tubes. She cried out softly in a desperate attempt to steady herself. Flailing like a falling windmill, she collapsed to the ground, the cacophony of her destructive chaos resounding like thunder in the quiet hall.

         “Ow.” Now prone on the floor, she tried to catch her breath, wincing as her lower back protested a slight movement. Great. I’ve broken something. Nick will have a field day with this.

         With a slight pang in her chest, she realized she was beginning to miss him already. She entertained the idea of being with him right now, eating his pathetic attempts at dinner. Maybe she ought to call him --

         “Meow.”

         Soft padding steps had her craning her neck to see her precious cat walking towards her.

         “Betsy, you are such a pain sometimes,” she began, only to blink in confusion at the hue of her white cat’s feet. To her chagrin, Betsy lifted a paw to lick at it gently, and as the smell became more evident, Melanie forced herself to sit up; ignoring the agony it wracked on her spine.

         Blood. That’s blood. What in the world…?!

         “Doc…Doctor Dorian?” Her heart was in her throat, beating faster with the first tingles of fear finding a home within her slowly freezing insides.

         Betsy meowed again and sat on her haunches, no longer looking like a possessed beast. She yawned and suddenly looked bored of the whole affair, watching her mistress stumble towards the office.

         What Melanie saw drove her to the brink of insanity.

         On the gray carpeted floor lay the once plump and cheerful veterinarian, his lips forever frozen in a grotesque grin, no thanks to someone or something that had peeled back his lips – top and bottom – to display the muscles and bones beneath the thin layer of flesh. His eyeballs had been gorged out, tendrils of ligaments barely connecting them to their sockets as they lay in pitiful threads against his cheeks. He had been scalped, revealing the pink and gray matter of his brain – now an attraction for a stray moth that rested and feasted hungrily on the thick creamy fluid mingled with blood.

         He was completely naked as well, but sliced neatly from throat to stomach, revealing intestines and muscles that leaked the sharp-smelling red fluid. In her state of shock – her hands were now clamped over her mouth – she noticed that his heart was missing; as if it had been ripped out by force. His kidneys were also gone and as if his suffering hadn’t been enough, his manhood had been sheared cleanly, his killer lovingly placing it where his heart would have been.

         “Meow.” Betsy called out again, her attention now distracted by the new visitor walking soundlessly down the hallway. A finger was placed against pursed lips in a motion of silence.

         “Nice kitty. Come here, baby,” the dark-clothed figure said with a warm smile, reaching for it as she lumbered up willingly. Betsy barely made a sound as strong fingers tightened around her neck and squeezed.

         The feline could only watch helplessly as her mistress staggered out of the room with terror in her eyes. She was unable to give Melanie a final warning as the world slowly faded away; a distant scream ripping its blissful silence.



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