I always knew there was something strange about Dr. Marlowe. The way he looked at the bodies on the autopsy table, with those cold, calculating eyes. The way he spoke, his voice devoid of any emotion. It sent chills down my spine. But I never could have imagined the horrors that lay beneath his seemingly ordinary existence.
It all started when I joined the pathologist department at St. Jude’s Hospital. It was a small town, tucked away in the remote corners of New England. The hospital itself had a dark, eerie ambiance, as if it were haunted by the souls of its patients. And as I would soon discover, it was not just the building that was haunted.
Dr. Marlowe had been the head pathologist for years, his reputation preceding him. Rumors whispered through the hospital corridors, tales of strange experiments and occult rituals that took place in the depths of the morgue. But those were just rumors, I told myself. Just the twisted tales of a paranoid staff.
On my first day, I was assigned to assist Dr. Marlowe in a routine autopsy. The body lay on the stainless steel table, lifeless and pale. Dr. Marlowe seemed almost excited as he picked up the scalpel, his hands trembling with anticipation. His eyes, however, remained cold and distant.
As he made the first incision, a strange energy seemed to fill the room. The air grew heavy, suffocating. It was as if the very walls were alive, whispering secrets that only Dr. Marlowe could hear. I watched in horror as he delved deeper into the body, his movements precise and calculated.
But then, something unexpected happened. The body twitched. Just a slight movement, barely noticeable. Dr. Marlowe didn’t flinch. He continued his work, as if this was a common occurrence. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the twitching corpse, the fear gripping my heart like a vice. What was happening?
Days turned into weeks, and my unease around Dr. Marlowe only grew. I noticed the way he interacted with the bodies, as if they were his companions. He would whisper to them, as if they were listening. And sometimes, I swear I saw their lips move in response.
One evening, as I was leaving the hospital, I caught a glimpse of Dr. Marlowe in his office. His back was turned to me, but I could see him hunched over a book. The pages were yellowed and worn, filled with strange symbols and incantations. It was a book of dark magic, I was certain.
Unable to resist my curiosity, I decided to investigate further. That night, I snuck into Dr. Marlowe’s office, my heart pounding in my chest. The room was dimly lit, the air heavy with the scent of decay. I found the book he had been reading earlier, its sinister presence sending shivers down my spine.
As I flipped through the pages, I stumbled upon a diagram. It depicted a ritual, one that required the sacrifice of human lives to achieve immortality. My blood ran cold as I realized the truth. Dr. Marlowe was using the bodies in the morgue as vessels for his experiments, trapping their souls and stealing their life force.
I couldn’t let this continue. I had to put an end to Dr. Marlowe’s reign of terror. Armed with the knowledge I had gained, I confronted him in the depths of the morgue. The room was filled with an otherworldly glow, the bodies lined up like macabre statues.
Dr. Marlowe turned to face me, his eyes glinting with a mix of madness and power. He knew I had discovered his secret, and he was prepared to do anything to protect it. But I wasn’t afraid anymore. I had seen the true darkness that lay within him, and I was ready to face it head-on.
As we fought, the room shook with a violent force. The bodies came to life, their eyes glowing with an unholy fire. They reached out to me, their bony fingers clawing at my flesh. But I fought back, fueled by a determination to save the souls trapped within.
In the end, it was Dr. Marlowe who fell. His body crumpled to the ground, lifeless and defeated. And as the bodies around me returned to their lifeless state, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. The darkness that had plagued St. Jude’s Hospital was finally vanquished.
But the horrors I had witnessed would never leave me. The image of those twitching bodies, the feeling of their icy touch, would haunt me for the rest of my days. And I would forever be wary of those with cold, calculating eyes, for I had seen firsthand the true face of evil.
Author: Opney. Illustrator: Stab. Publisher: Cyber.
