A Deadly Cure.

Chapter 1:

I was on my way home from a late shift at the hospital on a wet night in London. I observed a guy hiding in the shadows as I walked up to the front of my apartment complex.

I said, attempting to keep my voice cool, “Excuse me. Can I assist you?

A man wearing a long, black coat and a hat pulled low over his face emerged from the shadows as the figure.

He addressed me as “Dr. Harrison” in a voice that gave me chills. I had been looking for you.

How did you get my name? My heart was beating as I asked.

He said, approaching me, “Let’s just say I’m a fan.”

I took a step back as my hand reached for my pepper spray out of the blue.

“Remain here!” I cautioned him.

He chuckled, and the sound of his laughter reverberated over the vacant street.

In a low, scary voice, he replied, “You don’t understand. I need your assistance.

“How with?” Despite my trepidation, a glimmer of interest prompted my question.

He said, “My wife.” “She is ill. You must assist me in rescuing her.”

I hesitated, debating whether or not to believe this stranger.

He pleaded, “Please. “Pay me anything you want,” I said.

I groaned and unwillingly consented to accompany him to his vehicle.

He informed me about his wife’s sickness, a rare and fatal kind of cancer that had rendered her bedridden and close to passing away, as we drove through the soggy streets.

He continued, his voice shaking, “I’ve tried everything.” “Nothing has worked, including experimental therapies and chemotherapy. Yet, I’ve heard you’re the top in your profession. She can only be saved by one person.”

With his remarks, I had a rush of pride while also wondering how he had heard about me.

In the outskirts of the city, we arrived at a big, imposing home. He escorted me through works of art that spoke of wealth and taste as we passed through the huge entry hall.

He murmured, “Wait here,” before vanishing through a dim passage.

I trembled as I scanned the area since I felt like an outsider in this lavish house.

A woman’s voice resounded abruptly throughout the hallway.

She yelled out, “Help me!” “Please have someone assist me!”

Unsure of what to do, I paused. But then I recalled my doctor’s oath: to do no harm and to aid the weak.

The voice led me down the corridor while my heart raced in my chest.

Chapter 2:

I was in a room with medical devices and equipment that was darkly illuminated. In the middle of the room, a woman was lying on a hospital bed with her eyes closed and deathly pale skin.

She asked shakily, her eyelids fluttering wide, “Who are you?

I said, attempting to keep my voice cool, “I’m Dr. Harrison.” I am here to assist you.

She gave me a dubious glance.

She murmured, scarcely raising her voice above a whisper, “He’s lying.” “He did this to me,” I said.

What are you saying? I questioned as a knot began to grow in my gut.

She replied, her eyes on me, “He gave me something.” “Something that sickened me. He is now utilising you to do the task.

On my forehead, a chilly sweat started to appear.

What’s his name? I hoped she would elaborate when I questioned.

She responded with a sour tone, “He’s my husband.” He’s been attempting to murder me for years, but I’ve always resisted. But now…