Doctor Strange Novels & Stories

"No more drugs!" Dr. Evans glared at him. "He is agitated. He needs rest." "He needs to leave," Elion said. "We have... a private facility. A specialist. In the city." "Who?" "Dr... Strange," Elion said, panic making him stupid. Cale snorted. It was a weak sound, but it was a laugh. "Dr. Strange is a comic book character, Elion," Dr. Evans said dryly. "It's a common name," Elion defended. "Look. We appreciate your help. The leg is fixed. But we are leaving. Against medical advice. Where do I sign?"

I was halfway down the block when a figure stepped out from between two parked cars ahead of me. Dr. Heyes. He looked nothing like the doctor I remembered. His shirt was wrinkled and untucked, his eyes glassy and wild. He swayed slightly as he moved toward me and the sharp smell of alcohol hit me even from several feet away. “Well, well,” he said, voice slurred but full of anger. “Look who decided to walk home alone. The little nurse who helped ruin my life.” My heart slammed against my ribs. I stopped and took one step back, my hand already sliding into my bag.

His daunting eyes narrowed in on me and he straightened, a smile spreading across his lips and revealing the dimples my dad had mentioned. His beauty struck me like a blow, and I could already feel butterflies swarming in my stomach, his intimidating aura swallowing the entire space around him. Dr. Benjamin Cavanagh. The eccentric billionaire dubbed the Mad Doctor. “Do you see him?” My father crackled in my ear. “Yes.”

But unlike my expectations, the reason did not put an end to his curiosity. "You...you wanted to make a medicine out of it?" A man around his forties having more strands of grey than black finally steps out of the shadows. Are you cosplaying? I wanted to ask while taking in his attire of ancient armour over red robes, a deadly sword hanging on his belt of leather. "Sort of." Chaos soon broke with multiple people hidden away from my sight starting to speak, the echoes too hard to discern. I shrank back to the wall when it grew louder and the loudest of the group finally letting me hear a clear statement. "She's a doctor!"

“You’re the ‘Wicked Doctor’, Hugo Stark in the capital. Your name is well known!” The Wicked Doctor, Hugo Stark! He was a famous doctor in the capital. However, his methods and way of doing things were very different from ordinary doctors who aimed to save lives. He was both righteous and wicked, earning him the title of the ‘Wicked Doctor’. “It’s good that you’ve heard of me.” Hugo smirked and said, “I only have one reason for telling you my name. It’s just to remind you not to think about running away. Believe me. I have a hundred ways to make you suffer and wish that you were dead.”

Then ignoring everything you found on said boards and creating a nursery that was unique to your taste. My tangent thoughts were interrupted when a tall man in a doctors jacket walked into the room. His wiry white hair frayed out like he had been electrocuted and had an extremely bushy mustache above his lip. He reminded me of Albert Einstein. He gave me a decayed-toothed smile. “Miss. Steele,” he greeted. I noted that he didn’t greet me by my mated last name nor my title, which pissed me off even more. “I am Doctor Woodford, one of Alpha John’s head physicians. How are you feeling?” His voice was slow and almost condescending.

The two specialists shook hands, and the unused fellow, a much more seasoned, merciful looking noble man, ventured over to see into Draco’s eyes. “I’m Victor Johns,” he said cheerfully. “Head of neurology. I’m happy you’re wakeful, Mr. Hill.” “Thanks,” Draco murmured, attempting to remain calm whereas the specialist looked him over. “Do we have your title correct?” Dr. Johns inquired. Draco nodded. “Yep. Draco Slope. That’s me.” “Hmm-mmm. What is your occupation?” “I’m a DJ. I work at Talon’s club.” “Excellent. Who is this young lady here?” Dr. Johns pointed at Sydney. Draco grinned, delight surging through him.

"Parting ways seemed like yesterday, Celeste. It's nice seeing you again." The bystanders around them were gossiping as to who this person is. "The director knows him. Who do you think he is?" whispers one nurse to the other. "I don't know either." "It's lovely seeing you again too, Dr. Aster." Staring at the man with a sweat-soaked shirt. Celeste then faced the crowd and said, "Everyone, this our new colleague, Dr. Clive Aster. Now go back to your workstations and attend to the patients."

The next few questions were related to his general wealth that Stuart had already known. The Doctor craned his neck towards Stuart, his black eyes shone with a strange light. At this moment realization dawned upon Stuart, he was himself mentally unstable. "Anything you want to ask more sir?" With a nod of affirmation from him, He asked his assistant to take the Doctor away outside. The sound of opening the door made Stuart ale. He looked up and down at the man feeling his muscles tightening. "What happened to your Face Christian Evercast?" "Nothing." "But you look so ugly."

They all had worried looks on their faces. "Hello Della, I'm Dr. Stone. May I please have a look at your throat?" The kindly doctor asked as he held his open arms out for Della to be recieved. Della was hesitant at first, but in the end she agreed. "Good girl.," the doctor said with a smile. He was dressed very neatly and was very distinguished looking, yet he was extremely kind. Della obediently followed the doctor to a fancy chair in the hallway and sat down. She opened her mouth for the doctor and sat still while he examined her throat with a flashlight and flat wooden stick.