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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Voodoo_Clerk on 2024-10-24 06:00:31+00:00.
I was apprehensive about meeting Dr. Harrison for this coffee date. The only thing that made me want to take it, was finally learning what the hell was happening. And a part of me was excited to be on a date with Dr. Harrison. Even after everything that I had seen at the clinic, including him ripping his own face off, a part of me was squealing like a teenager finally landing a date with her crush. And, even if I did quit afterward like I wanted to, I would at least finally know what was going on at the clinic. With Wilson, the patients, Dr. Harrison, everything. Maybe even the lost and found thief.
Normally, I don’t take very long to get ready, but a part of me wanted to put more effort into this meeting. In my head, it was going to be the last time I ever saw Dr. Harrison. So I put on my nice pair of jeans and button-up, surprised that it still fit me since the last time I wore it was during my cousin’s wedding. A quick spritz of perfume and I was ready. And in my head, I felt stupid, it wasn’t like this was an actual date. But I figured I might as well take advantage of it.
I was happy that I was allowed to choose the coffee shop and picked one close to the city and further away from the office. I wanted to be around as many people as possible and was happy to see that the shop was pretty busy. I took a seat at a table near the window to look out to see Dr. Harrison when he finally showed up, and so others could see us in case something happened during our ‘date’. I sat there and began to shake my legs anxiously as I waited for him to show up.
I didn’t have much longer to wait when I saw him approaching the coffee shop. It was so offputting to see him in clothes that weren’t his scrubs and lab coat. A turtleneck wasn’t something I ever knew he would wear, but seeing him wearing that was enough for me to immediately know that I had made the right choice in accepting this date.
“Good morning, doctor,” I told him as I stood up from my chair when he entered the shop and walked over to me. He looked at me and gave me a soft smile, as he rubbed his hand through his brown hair.
“You can just call me James, Maggie. We aren’t at work at the moment,” he said with a little chuckle. It was a force of habit. It’s like trying not to call your old teacher Mr. or Mrs. “Have you ordered yet? I know I have…a lot of explaining to do to you.” I shook my head and he led us over to the barista. He ordered a simple black coffee and I got a basic latte. You can judge me all you want, and you’d be right. I’m basic.
We both sat down at the table and stared awkwardly at our coffees. It was obvious that he was trying to find the right words, so I just sat there taking small sips from my latte. Finally, he cleared his throat and looked at me with those beautiful green eyes.
“About five years ago…I was attacked.” He sighed heavily, lifting the hot black coffee to his lips and taking a small sip. “I was attacked by a patient. She wasn’t satisfied with the work I gave her. I had told her that I could no longer operate on her because she was clearly addicted to cosmetic surgery. She didn’t take the news well.” He took another sip from his coffee cup.
“What did she do?” I asked him, trying to imagine how her attacking him had led to…everything that happened at the clinic daily. “If I can ask that, of course.” I cushioned my invasive question, but Dr. Harrison didn’t seem to mind, giving me a small little smile.
“She threw a cup of acid at my face. Sliced it up real good with a scalpel, and as a chaser lit it on fire. The only reason I’m still alive is because Rachel threw mop water on me to put out the fire. The acid was harder to wash off.” He explained, the smile still on his face, but his eyes betrayed just how traumatizing it had been for him.
I looked at his beautiful face and didn’t see a single scar, or any blemish. Then of course I thought back to him ripping his face off back at the clinic. And it suddenly all hit me at once. His need for skin, him coming into work with his face covered up.
“That isn’t your real face, is it?” I asked him, placing my drink on the table to stare at him. He looked at me in the eyes and I stared into those big jewels he had. A soft swirl began to appear in his eyes, and my head began to throb suddenly.
“It isn’t…” He looked back down at his coffee and my headache disappeared the moment his eyes were taken off of mine. “But for an entire year, I was in recovery, and even though I got reconstructive surgery…that…fucking bitch…ruined my face!” He shouted, quickly looking around at the other patrons who snapped their attention over at us. “Sorry…” he said with a heavy sigh.
“But…if this isn’t your real face, how did you get it?” I asked him, doing my best to avoid his eyes. As beautiful as they were, something about them suddenly began to rub me the wrong way. I gripped my cup close to me and kicked myself for not getting something hotter. If he tried something I could at least throw scolding hot coffee in his face as a defense mechanism.
“It’s…a long story.” He looked down at his cup of coffee and pushed it further away from himself, staring down at the table for a long while, as he gathered up the courage to tell me. “After she attacked me, I…lost my mind. In more ways than one,” He gave a little giggle before he quickly stopped and cleared his throat.
“I uh…started…I uh…” He let out a heavy sigh, the embarrassment and shame he was feeling was palpable to me. “I started killing people…to give myself the satisfaction of having a better looking face. Heh…it sounds stupid when I say it…but I earnestly thought that it was helping me.” He continued to stare down at the table, while I stared at him in shock, he had broken the Hippocratic oath and the fucking law as well.
“James…that doesn’t answer my question,” I told him, thinking he was deflecting.
“Oh I’m getting to that…see after I had killed my parents…” I couldn’t help but let out a gasp and quickly covered my mouth. “My mother…she uh…insulted my face. So I hacked her to pieces. And my dad was so in love and attached to her, that I couldn’t let him live in a world without her.” He explained with a nonchalant shrug. “But soon afterwards…I met my savior.” He explained with whimsy in his voice.
It suddenly clicked in my head. “The man on the phone?” I asked him. He finally looked up from the table and nodded enthusiastically, his green eyes shining so brightly I thought he’d blind me.
“Mr. Sinclair found me…and put me in touch with someone who gave me powers to…sculpt my beautiful face back.” He reached his hand to his face and let out a happy hum. He was like a giddy schoolgirl talking about her high school crush. Or like how I talked about him. “And…I’m sure you’ve noticed my beautiful eyes. It’s hard not to, I’m sure.” He giggled a little.
His demeanor was completely different than normal. The smooth, almost aloof handsome surgeon had transformed into a deranged madman before my eyes. The ease with which he told me he killed his parents and other people terrified and all the while his eyes began to drill into my very soul.
“You’re very special, Maggie. You have a healthy self-image, that’s what drew me to you. My eyes, they can control people with low self-esteem and people who are easily manipulated. Hypnotize them almost. But you…I can’t control you. I can suggest some things to you…but I can’t control you,” he told me, his eyes gleamed brightly and I snuck a peak at them. I stared deep into them and, to my surprise, saw spirals in them.
“I was gifted with these eyes, and with the powers to…meld skin.” He smiled widely and suddenly he reached across the table and grabbed my hands. I flinched backward but he held onto my hands tightly. “I use other people’s skin to replace my own. And I can meld the human body into any shape that I want.” People were starting to look at us now and some were even murmuring. I prayed that one of them would come over here and get me out of this situation.
“D-Dr? Y-you’re hurting my hands,” I squeaked in pain as he squeezed them. That seemed to snap him out of whatever state he was in. His eyes dimmed and he looked down at his own hands and he quickly let go of them.
“I-I’m sorry, Maggie.” He told me, instantly retreating into his seat and frantically pushing his hair back into place. “I uh…got carried away.” He reached out and grabbed his cup of coffee and took a long sip from the cup. I rubbed my own hands and looked down at them.
“So…it isn’t permanent, is it? You need to keep doing it? Taking…people’s skin?” I asked him, trying to get him back on track, and hoping that he would maintain his normal composure. He looked back up at me like a confused puppy.
“Oh…yes. Unfortunately, it isn’t permanent. Every few weeks I need to replace it. Nothing I’ve tried has been able to make it last longer. Not only that, but I can’t control this power very well either. As you saw with Wilson and the last patient, if I don’t concentrate hard enough, things go very wrong.” He took another long sip from his coffee.
That answered a lot of questions. W...
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