Doctor Who Novels & Stories

I stared straight, promising death, “ENOUGH.” The screen split into halves and the poodle-haired, thick-rimmed bespectacled nerd doctor appeared in his usual bored look that women called ‘enigmatic’. And the monkey pussy-lover jumped with joy for the long-awaited ally. “Martin! Finally! Please use your Science to knock some man-sense into him before he ruins everything, huh?” “Science is not mine,” the doctor replied in dead calmness. “And how’s my patient doing?” “She’s not yours.” I glared.

“Parents who raise someone like that can’t be any better!” Dr. Hamilton, who was helped forward by a few people, cleared his throat and said, “I’ve practiced medicine for over forty years. I would never falsify records. I personally reviewed this document. Milo was indeed in the dispensing room at the time. I saw him with my own eyes.” Suddenly, a male doctor in a white coat rushed forward. He grabbed my mom by the hair and slammed her head against a nearby bulletin board. She screamed as blood immediately began seeping from her forehead.

His eyes dropped to my chest for a second, then back to my face. The tension in the room grew thick. I could feel my body responding to him even through the pain — a warm pull low in my belly. This was crazy. I barely knew the man, and here I was, lying in a hospital bed with a broken leg, getting turned on by my doctor. “Dr. Black—” “Ethan,” he corrected. “When we’re alone like this, call me Ethan.” My heart raced. “Ethan… this is probably normal for you. Saving people. Having them look at you like you’re some kind of hero.”

"So it was for free?" The Doctor sent another glare to Mom who ignored the look, turning back to Nine with a snarl on her face. "Then tell me who the fuck it is, so I can get my money. I bet he has nothing to even go as low as fucking you but I'd still suck him out for everything he's worth—" "He's not from the Lowerlands."

"It's a miracle!" The Doctor exclaimed, snapping him out of his thoughts. "The Don is awake, and we owe it to these two little champions" A sudden shiver ran down his spine, as though a cold breeze had swept through the room. But it wasn't the temperature that caused the shiver—it was the unmistakable sensation of being watched. He could feel a pair of eyes digging into his back, boring into his skin. The sensation was familiar, yet it sent a trail of shivers down his spine. Without turning around, Sergio listened to the Doctor who continued talking.

she eyed the bag. “Wes will help you with that,” I said rubbing a hand down my temple, feeling an oncoming headache. I grabbed my phone and opened to the live footage of the doctor’s location, displaying the address right at the top. I pushed the phone to the other side of the table. Lysander eyed it for a moment before taking it. “What is this?” “The doctor’s address,” I said. “The doctor?” Lysander inquired, frowning. “Dr Johan Hiroshima,” Vincent murmurs. Lysander’s eyes widened, shock filling his face. He turns to me then. “He had his location all along,”

I retorted, hoping he wouldn't use his hands on me or try to snatch it away by force. “I'm the Doctor and these are my people.” “I'm confused right now, if you're the Doctor why are you dressed in a leather jacket and a set of tight jeans with guns tucked in your waist. You're meant to be wearing an overall with a stethoscope around your neck.” I uttered, my words left everyone the driver, him and another man amused.

Anyway, thanks a lot for being a great listener, I've never had anyone talk like this. "You don't need to thank me, I will be at your call anytime you want to talk." The Doctor smiled warmly. "That would be impossible because, I am sorry…" he sighed, removed a knife from his pocket and lunged at the doctor. I covered my mouth instantly, watching my friend as she stood there frozen with her hand covering her left rib where the blood gushed out. "Rest in peace, my doctor." He said, removed the knife and then lunged at her again. With that, the Doctor fell down, ending the days of her life on earth.

HUNTER’s POV “Doctor, how is she?” I ask the moment Doctor Olcan steps out from behind the dark mahogany door. Doctor Olcan is our pack doctor, he looks at me and pushes the round rimless glass up to the bridge of his crooked nose, silently shaking his wintry white head. I feel my gut clench. Why is he shaking his head?

I sigh, turning to look at the Doctor. “So what role do you play?” I ask, watching a sadistic grin spread across his wrinkle-filled face. “This one!” He exclaims happily, opening his bag and producing a needle with the point gleaming evilly in the light. A liquid sloshes around in the glass tube, the amber colour sending a sense of foreboding through me. I had a feeling I would not like what he is about to do.