The Good Doctor
"I am a God and I forbid you to die."
There's nothing so entrancing as the reality of one's own mortality. I knew this for a simple reason. I knew this because I couldn't avert my eyes from him.
His clothes dripping with the blood that had gone cold during the night. The look in his once beautiful blue eyes. That look where the light of life had vanished. All vibrancy was gone in them; it was as if somebody simply turned off the lights. But there were no lights. No, they were gone because of me. And I knew it.
His ribs were a cage that had been forced open and inside I saw it. I saw every mark I had made. Every incision, every laceration, every stupid mistake. And I saw it. The bullet that had forced my hand so. Why couldn't he have just listened. Why? Why Derrick? WHY DIDN'T YOU [censored] LISTEN?!
I was getting angry. So very angry as I looked at him. The paleness of his face and the purple blotches forming on the posterior side of his body. It frustrated me. I should've been able to save him--I'm a doctor. I'm a healer of men. I am the one who abjures the Reaper and banishes him to whence he came.
But not this time. No, not this time. I was the one who conjured him forth from the darkness as I squeezed that trigger. It was me who did this. Me! I killed Derrick!
My eyes returned to his right lung. It was still wet with blood, but it had grown cold. So very cold, just like the rest of Derrick. What I saw taunted me. That bullet hole in the middle lobe. "You failed, Doctor. You failed. Thought you could play God, but couldn't!"
Oh I failed, most definitely. But this wasn't acceptable. I was Doctor Gregory Priest--and I would not do this. No, no, I wouldn't be beaten by that little hole. I'd do it again, but this time--I wouldn't fail to save the victim. Yeah, yeah, that's what I'd do. Because Doctor Priest isn't a failure--no--I am the master of life and death and I refuse to let this stop me. I refuse to let this--this mockery--hold me back. I will prove to all the naysayers that nothing can stop the will of Doctor Priest and they will watch as I do what they claim is impossible.
Oh yes, they'll all see. Doctor Priest, you're a mad man. Priest, what are you doing? Priest you're killing the patient. No I'm not! I'm saving his life! You just don't understand it, because you're too stupid! SO STUPID!
That lung kept taunting me, "You killed me, you killed me, you're a failure." Singing it. Like it was some kind of funny nursery rhyme.
"YOU THINK THIS IS A JOKE?!" I screamed. "YOU THINK I'M A JOKE, DON'T YOU?!" I couldn't help it as I darted towards him. My hands intertwining around that lung as I ripped until a visceral spray coated me--but it was worth it. I had that little sarcastic bastard in my fingers.
"Is it funny now? Is it funny?"
"It's hilarious that you let the kid die."
Swoosh. The sound that it whizzed through the air across the room. And then a dull thud as it slammed against the wall. Ha. Ha ha. Little bastard thought he'd beat me. He thought wrong. You don't beat me. Nobody beats me.
Nope. Nobody and I knew it. Nobody beats the Good Doctor, because I'm the best there is. I'm the king of this hellhole. And one day, people will understand that. One day...