Chapter 3:
⚠️: Some beating, mention of human trafficking, disgusting perverts, and cussing
Jeez, another one to take care of. The woman sighed. Oh well, she's my patient now, just think of her as an injured cat. She shivered. No, not a cat. Maybe a dog? Ummm, yeah that could work. Dogs are annoying and loud. Yeah. Just a dog.
She stepped into her room and sat by the woman. "You hungry?" She snapped. It's better to be rude, yeah. Just be rude. It's a dog, just a... she stopped when the lady nodded. "Cat." Her brain whispered. "Dog!" She yelled back. A mindless dog.
"Didn't I tell you not to move?" She asked in a voice that normally scares even big-mucled bodyguards. Her lips pursed together involuntary.
Her patient seemed dazed. Good, be scared. Be so scared you run away after you get better.
Suddenly, a knock resounded. Again? She should have... no, don't think.
The cat...no dog! The dog looked at her as if to ask who was there. She sighed in response and put down the bowl.
Turning back from the door, she warned in her coldest tone, "Don't move".
Walking through her house, she opened the door to a self entitled brat. She called him a brat but he was at least double her age. He didn't come alone.
Great, just what I needed. An asshole and his goons. She rolled her eyes.
"Did you just roll your eyes at me?" The fucker asked in a voice that would make your skin crawl. His goons charged in. One grabbed her hand, his eyes showing all she needs to know.
"Of course not Gilbert." She said in a mocking polite tone. (Not known to her, this tone of voice was bone chilling. In fact, the voice she used earlier that makes people shiver is only because it's how different it sounds. How could someone be so different as if being many people?)
Steeling himself, Gilbert sneered. "You know, your still going to be worth a fortune even broken in."
Broken in? She laughed. She's been "Broken in" since she could fit a banana in her mouth and not gag. (She was trained).
Filled with rage from that memory, she easily took the hand that was holding hers, pulled, and mercilessly broke the goons arm. Hearing that scream sent indescribable joy to her.
The neighbors were used to this by now, and they would even help her hide a body and escape if she needed it. Not out of the goodness of their heart. Not at all. It was a mix of being terrified of her and owing their life to her. No matter the reason though, no one will help them.
The second goon pulled a gun on her and she smirked, raising an eyebrow at Gilbert. He smiled, answering her. "Have you heard of necrophillia? People may like you feisty, but your price may even rise after your death."
Wanting to shiver, she just smirked. "Huh, I wonder what your price would be?"
Thinking he won, the bastard laughed. The goon shot. Blood poured down, a new marriage for the happy carpet. Another shot was fired, and one more. A thump.
The woman's head turned like a world globe to her side.
The side leading to her room. Her anger vanished and in its place was worry. Worry for her patient. The only reason she was worried is that this lady owed her her life. That's right. That's the only thing.
She rushed to the side and caught her cat. "Didn't I tell you not to move? Why did you do that, you dummy?" Why must you be so...ugh. Without her notice or permission, tears slipped down her face.
The woman in her arms seemed a bit taken aback, but then reached up and touched her face, wiping them.
The doctors heart thumped a little. Just a dog, she repeated, just a dog. That was until she felt wet, sticky stuff on her fingers. Looking down she saw blood. An alarming amount. Fuck this! She was not just a dog, she was her patient. She can't let her die until she's fully healed.
Without a word, she placed her down and started to get up.