Preys and Predator Part II; the monster and witches' Chapter 12

 

12.

Doctor Mitchell stood at the corner at the alley, watching the house across the street. He was not a voyeur but waiting for someone. It was past dusk, and the cold air was getting at his bones, the ailment of the aged. He pulled the overcoat tighter and watched while grabbing the pencil from the pocket. He had the pencil in his right hand to write down his observation on all his patients. He pockets the diary while he twirls the pencil with his fingers. It was his idle habit then. He was keen to see if the occupant of the house would exit.

The person did.

It was a lady dressed in the dark dress and bonnet with the small bag. She walked the street in the opposite direction from the doctor. He watched her take the stroll, and then he crossed over. He approached the house and rang the doorknob.

“Doctor Mitchell, I am most surprised. I was planning to see you tomorrow.” Mrs. Hudson was the one who greeted him at the doorway. She was a pleasant lady in her sixties and needed some ointments for her heart.

“I was in the neighbourhood and brought you your medicine.” Doctor Mitchell smiled. “May I come in please? It is cold.”

“My apologies, Doctor. Please do come in.” Mrs. Hudson stepped aside for the doctor.

“You can join me for an early supper. I have some servings left from dinner. My guest did not eat any. My board covers meals, but I cannot tell them what they had missed then.”

“Most delightful, Mrs. Hudson.” Doctor Mitchell walked to the dining area. He handed over the medicine while supper was served. It included the glass of wine, welcomed by the doctor. He began the conversation enquiring on the health of the lady, and she was ever glad to be alive.

“I feel better. The fees from the board helped with my needs.” It was a surprise that Mrs, Hudson had taken in a guest, when she was living all alone for some years, since moving there from the city.

“How is your guest? What is her name, please? I am getting poor at remembering.”

“Katherine something. She is foreign.” Mrs. Hudson laughed. “Me too on my memory.”

“I can assure you that it’s a part of getting old.”

“Senile, you mean.” Mrs. Hudson laughed. “Frank used to tell me I was ever forgetful. He is my husband, Doctor Mitchell, if you have forgotten.”

“Yes, dearie, I remembered.” Once Mrs. Hudson told the doctor that she misses her husband; he is dead and rotted in his grave. She would not think of having any others with her ever since. The doctor had assured her that despite his single entity, he was past the need to have anyone in his life. That settled their needs for closer companionship, but they remained fine as doctor and patient.

“How is Stephanie?” Doctor Mitchell asked.

“You mean Katherine. That is her name.”

“Pardon me. My slip-up. Please do tell.”

“Doctor Mitchell, you are devious. You are looking to get her a patient. I know she is elderly, but she looks strong. And healthy, but on some occasions, she may be pale.”

“Pale?” Doctor Mitchell frowned, his expression like any concerned physician. “I must ...”

“Most times, after the evening stroll, she will come back pale-stricken, and I will offer her a wine, but she will decline. She will rest in her room till late morning.”

“I …... Perhaps you could bring her to church on Sunday. I could then approach her.” Doctor Mitchell was also the priest, among other things that he does there.

“I doubt she will go. She is … If I could say, orthodox in her beliefs. She shunned the book when I left it at the table after mass. She will not look at the cross I hung over the fireplace.”

“Most intriguing.” Doctor Mitchell smiled. “I must go. It is getting dark. And the …”

Yes, I heard. The missing girls. How many were there?”

“Three, as of two nights ago. The parents are told to keep their children home after dusk. It could be…”

“Witchcraft, I am telling you. I have heard of it before. They have their gatherings in the forest.”

“Please do not alarm yourself. It is not healthy for your heart.” Doctor Mitchell soothed her concerns.

“Yes, my heart.” Mrs. Hudson took the doctor’s right hand and placed it over her bosom. “It beats.”

“Yes, it does.” Doctor Mitchell stood up and laid a peck on the forehead of the lady. “I must go now. And thank you for the supper.”

“As you wished.” Mrs. Hudson smiled. ‘The Lord is with you.”

“Amen.” Doctor Mitchell made his way out. He walked back to the church, where he also operates the clinic. He met Constable Brown on patrol that day, pushing the bicycle. He had on his dark overcoat and the top hat with the emblem of the authority.

“Good evening, Doctor. Busy day?”

“Yes, Constable. I had to deliver some medicine. How is your day?”

“Quiet. if you ignore Dawson telling me to find Daisy. She was missing from the barn. As like before, I found her near the creek, with the bites on her.”

“Disturbing.” Daisy is the cow that Dawson milked from daily. For the last month, she was missing from the barn on some mornings.

“Disturbing is when you have Henry trying to get his satisfaction with the sheep.”

“Yes, that was some time back. I had him read the book for days, and I think he has repented.” Doctor Mitchell sighed. The village was leaning to the macabre of late.

“That boy is sick. I told Sven, but the old man was protective of the boy. He is not of his, but loved him well.” Constable Brown turned his bicycle around to follow the doctor. He reckoned the other end of the village would do fine without him that evening.

“I heard that you did some praying for the Masons. Their daughter was …”

“Disturbed, Brown. Disturbed.” Doctor Mitchell said. He was the one they called on for exorcism. And the villagers are rife with anything to spread the words on. “Actually, she was delusional due to her fever. I administered some medicine and got her well.”

“I was told that she will go into those conversations with the demons at times.”

“Convulsion was the effect of late treatment, but there may be a cure soon.” During that period, treatments for convulsions (epilepsy) were largely ineffective and often focused on managing symptoms with things like bloodletting, purging, and a strict diet, with some practitioners even resorting to spiritual or superstitious practices due to the lack of understanding about the condition; the most significant medical advancement during this time was the introduction of bromide salts as a potential anticonvulsant medication, although its use was still limited and not widely accepted. 

Doctor Mitchell gave her the ether to sedate her when she was into it. It was the best method he could think of.

“Marthe Mason is thinking of sending the girl to a convent for her healing. Do you know of any?”

“I have none. She could try the... I will talk to the family. God has his ways to cure the ailment.” Doctor Mitchell then nodded to the constable at the turning to his church. They parted there, and the doctor made his way along the track there, marked with the gravel trodden on every Sunday.

“Doctor Mitchell.” The doctor heard his name called, but he saw no one. It was a lady’s voice.

“Beware of what you want to do. Your mortality may be ending.”

Doctor Mitchell dropped his medical bag and reached for the cross on his vest. He could not find it. He remembered that it was in the bag. He leaned down to reach for it when he found him pushed from the rear. He fell onto his face and was pressed hard at the gravel pebbles.

“End it, or we will end it for you.” Doctor Michell felt the pain in his spine. “I am not telling you a second time.”

“Away, you demon!’ Doctor Mitchell heard the cry behind him. He could not move because his spine hurts. He felt a set of hands on his shoulder.

“No, do not move me. I am hurt at the spine.” Doctor Mitchell cried out. He feared if he was moved, he might hurt his spine and worse, be paralyzed.

“Are you fine, Doctor? I am Spielsdorf, Rudolf Spielsdorf. I did not meet you, but the Frankenstein told me of you.”