Inverted AU Character Intros: 3/7
A JSE Fanfic
[These are intros for the versions of the guys for my Inverted AU! Inverted is a reverse-morality story where the good guys are bad and the bad guy—Anti—is good. These intros should help newcomers understand just how the dynamics work :) This one is for Inverted!Schneep.]
“You sure this is the place?” the man asked. “Looks a little…sketchy.”
The building sat on the fringes of town. It wasn’t really run-down, actually it was in better repair than most of its surroundings. But there was no sign or any sort of label. The room through the large front window was dark, and with the sun barely setting you couldn’t see anything inside.
“Well, not like we have a choice.” The woman shrugged as best as she could while still supporting her companion. “Unless you want the hospital wondering why you got shot three times. They’re obligated to call the police with any gunshot wounds, you know.”
The man winced. His wounds throbbed with new pain: one in the leg, one in the abdomen, one in the hip. The leg has been a through-and-through, but he still had bullets lodged in his torso. “Good point,” he mumbled, leaning on the woman even more. “Let’s go.”
The door opened, and a buzzing sound let everyone inside know someone had just entered. The woman flipped a light switch near the door, revealing what looked like an impromptu waiting room. A bunch of upholstered chairs leaned against the walls, and small end tables next to them held some old out-of-date magazines. The walls were undecorated, off-white plaster only broken up by a single gray door. A long desk with a computer monitor and a swivel chair seemed to serve as reception, but nobody was there.
“Maybe it’s closed,” the man suggested hopefully.
“Places like this don’t close,” the woman said stubbornly. “Now stop worrying. This guy may be a little weird, but he’s very good.”
“I appreciate that you think so.” The door opened, and a man stepped out. “And you are right, of course. I am great doctor.”
“Ah, so you’re the guy,” the man mumbled. “Well I—” he stumbled a bit. The woman had to help him stay on his feet.
The doctor hummed thoughtfully, eyes scanning up and down. “The gun wounds, yes? I am assuming there are bullets still inside you want me to remove?”
“Exactly,” the woman confirmed. “Two of them. We hear you do good work and can, ah, keep quiet.”
“Of course, of course.” The doctor waved a dismissive hand. “I will expect payment for this.”
“I don’t carry cash—”
“I can wait a week or so. Now, if you could please wait here while I take your friend to be fixed up…”
“But I—”
“I do not care. I cannot have distractions while on such an important operation.”
The woman opened her mouth to keep protesting, but the man looked at her and shook his head. “It’s okay,” he said. “We’re in kind of a rush, since I don’t want to bleed out and all. And I’ll remind you that this was your idea.” The woman scowled, but let him shift his weight from her to the doctor. She sat on a chair and watched as her companion and the doctor went into the other room. The door swung shut with a strange finality.
“If you will lay down on the table, please,” the doctor said, pushing the man toward said table. “I am going to prepare anesthetic.”
The man eyed it. “Yeah, no thanks.”
“Ha! If you are worried about the straps, my friend, that is because I am not always able to have painkillers. We will not need them today, and I am not going to give you or your friend reason to not pay me.” The man stood stubbornly, despite his unsteady swaying, and the doctor rolled his eyes. “You can just sit, if that makes you feel better.”
Cautiously, the man did so, and looked around the room. It looked like the operating rooms you see on TV, just a bit more thrown-together. There were trays full of wicked-looking medical equipment, and giant lamps provided bright white spotlights. A couple rickety metal tables around the room held various devices and instruments, and two metal doors led deeper into the building.
The doctor busied himself at one of the tables, partially hidden in the shadows. “So, why is it that you come to me with three bullet holes inside you?”
“Why d’you care?” the man said suspiciously.
“I make it a point to know these things about my patients. Maybe your girlfriend out there could tell me if you won’t.”
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Sister, then?”
“Nah, I’m an only child. Don’t have much family left, and they probably wouldn’t care enough to drag me here if they knew I was shot.”
“I see, I see.” The doctor pulled on a pair of blue latex gloves, then glanced back over to the man. “You do not have to tell me the big picture. I am smart enough to figure things out. But I must know the details, like the type of gun.”
“I dunno, handgun? It was too dark in the room to make it out.” The man felt a sudden surge of anger. “It was going so well, too. That bitch-ass red hood wannabe didn’t see us coming. We probably could’ve done it, had his friend not shown up at the last minute. Just a few bang, bang, bangs and we had to run…They’re probably following us, actually, so you should make this quick if you don’t want a shootout in the middle of your little emergency room here.”
“…I see.” The doctor picked up a syringe. In this lighting, it looked so dramatic that the man half-expected the doctor to squirt out a bit of the fluid inside, like you see in movies. But that would’ve been a waste of whatever was inside. “This is the anesthetic. Now if you will stick out your arm, we could get underway.”
The man realized he’d leaned back unconsciously. He shook himself mentally. His friend thought this was a good place, and she was usually right. A backdoor operation like this would probably be kind of creepy. So, despite his instincts, he rolled up his sleeve and let the doctor shove a needle in his arm.
“It will take a few moments to kick in,” the doctor explained. “Now, if you don’t mind, that is enough time for me to make a very important phone call. I have been meaning to do so all day. I will see you in a little while.” And with that, he turned and pushed though a door into another room.
What a strange man. Well, he had an accent, so maybe it was a culture thing. The man could do nothing but sit and wait for the anesthesia to kick in.
He’d never been on painkillers before, at least not that he could remember. Was the room supposed to be tilting? Were his thoughts supposed to be spinning? He tried to lift his hand to his head, but his movements were beginning to slow…maybe he just…needed to lie down…but he didn’t want that…why was that again?…remembering took a longer time than it normally did…when he blinked the lights began to blur…
There was a pap! sound. In his slow mind, it took him too long to recognize it as a gunshot. A couple more followed. They were disturbingly close…didn’t he just say something about being followed?…He was hit with a sense of urgency all of a sudden. He tried to stand up but ended up almost falling over instead. He hadn’t lost that much blood, had he?
“Ah, seems they were closer than I thought.” The doctor came back into the room, the lower half of his face hidden by a blue surgical mask. He walked over to the operating table.
“Wha…what’s goin…?” the man slurred. Things were starting to swirl in front of his eyes.
“Well, you are very unlucky, my friend.” The doctor pushed the man down onto the table. Vaguely, the man was aware of something being strapped across his chest. “Had you been anyone else, I would have done the operation you wanted and sent you on your way, provided you did eventually pay. But the man you went after happens to be a friend of mine, and I just got his permission to do my actual work.”
The man turned his head. “My…she…”
“She’s probably already dead. You should not worry about her right now. Well, you should not worry about yourself either. I am very good at my job.”
“What…did you do…to me?”
The doctor pulled down his mask, smiling at the man. “Is not anesthetic. You may not be entirely conscious, but is not painkiller, because it will not kill the pain. You may not enjoy this.” He pulled the mask back in place.
The next morning, two men met in the local park. One of them wore a red hoodie, the other one wore a blue sweater and glasses. They sat in silence on a bench, each one nursing a coffee. After a while, Jackie asked, “Did you kill him?”
Dr. Schneeplestein made a so-so gesture with his hand. “Eventually. Actually, I should go check soon.”
Jackie raised an eyebrow. “Have I ever told you that you’re really fucked up?”
Schneep smiled. “Many times.” And he didn’t care.