Poison Eating Healer Novels & Stories

“One, two, three, four…” Twice now. Why were there only six? The doctor was still explaining, “She ate a poisonous mushroom. Her stomach’s been pumped, but her brain will be foggy for a while. Whatever she says, just go along with it.” He left. Wendy Gold—the real one—leaned in. “Honey, what are you doing? Are you feeling okay?” I glanced at her. She really was beautiful. No wonder the heir chose me for looking sixty percent like her.

I made to move towards him, but Cenat held me back. The healer stood up with a solemn look on his face, "This is bad." He kissed his teeth picking up his herbal bag. My heart stopped for a while, "What is wrong with him?" I asked. "Poison." He spat on the ground. "A deadly one that has no cure, I hate to admit, but the prince will not make it." "Poison?" "Forgive me your highness, but there's nothing I can do." With that he bowed then walked out of the room leaving Cenat and I.

That the world was crammed with so much more than she or any normal person understood. Rising from the bed, Dhara quietly moved away and found herself standing in front of the dressing table. She saw herself wearing an extra-large t-shirt as a nightdress and noticed her dark hair piled up on top of her head, making her look even messier than she felt inside. But that was not what she was trying to look at. What she was trying to see was what made her special. Zaydan said that she was the healer the packs around the world had been looking for. And if what he said was true—she couldn’t help but believe him now despite their differences—then was it possible that she was actually who he said she

I decide right then and there that I like her. “What is?” She asks, a little defensive again. “You are.” I say with a grin. “There’s no sign of disgust or disapproval when you mentioned poisons.” “I’m a healer. I think people are extremely dull for turning their noses up at poison-wielders.” She says. “I wouldn’t call it ‘turning their nose up’. They are afraid and mistrustful of anything they don’t understand.” I correct. “Well, what’s dead is dead so I think it’s silly to argue over how appropriate the means is. So do you know anything about the poison? Alpha Kael said you would.”

The healer had already moved away, reaching into a wooden cabinet filled with rows of glass vials, powders, and herbs. “It’s a refined one,” she said as she searched. “It’s not something crude...” She pulled out two small bottles. They were nearly identical, then she held them up. “In simple terms the poison is lethal...” “Lethal?…” Lethal meant death…so the goal was to kill her. But why? Damien shook off his thoughts, then stepped closer. “How long does she have?” The healer glanced back at Serena, then back at him. “Not long.”

His eyes rolled back, mouth twitching as foam gathered at the corner of his lips. “Help!” I screamed. “Somebody help us!” Figures appeared from nowhere, but their faces were all smeared… no one was helping… “He’s poisoned,” A healer said flatly, after observing him. “No, no he can’t be—” “Step away, girl,” another voice snapped, but I didn’t know who said it. Everything moved in waves… him being carried, my feet dragging, screams that didn’t sound like mine, and someone grabbing me to pull me back.

They’re comfortable with each other, like how Isla and I are, and I briefly wonder how long they’ve been friends. “This is an older volume with some of the more rare poisons and toxins in it,” Healer Sarina says while laying an old, leatherbound book beside the one I’d just finished. The pages are more worn than the previous book, so as I open it, I try to be more careful.

"It's an unverified practice, but I've heard that fewer than one in a million can become a healer." Creating a healer was a particularly cruel process, essentially an experiment. From a young age, they were soaked in various herbs, subjected to bites from poisonous creatures, and made to ingest different toxic plants. Surviving such a process was a miracle. "I'm speculating, but if not for these beads, Nina's poison would have fully manifested by now." Nash recalled seeing someone unusual in the apartment complex and he lived right next door.

he said. "Wait!" Helena prevented the soldier from leaving. "What's your name?" "Just call me Pierre," he said and shook her hand without her consent. Helena looked at her hands and nodded. "I want to eat, but I doubt if this is real food or does it contain poison to kill me?" Helena looked at him doubtfully. "If you are poisoned, you can cure it with the magic power you have," said Pierre. "It's not that easy. If a healer is injured, it's difficult for him to treat himself. It's like attacking yourself with two different bodies," said Helena.

He wasn't dead. His heart was hammering loud-too loud. The pain in his body was real. He had been poisoned. He knew it was still burning through his system. And how could that be if he'd been healed properly? Where was the greatest healer his people had ever known? Surely, the latter would not have allowed poison to remain in his body, no matter what the risk to himself.