The Canterbury Tales Doctor Novels & Stories

“We’ve contacted the best toxicologist available.” Cassian straightened slightly. “He’s on his way.” My voice came out hoarse. “Who?” The doctor answered, “Dr. Julian Vane.” Immediately Cassian’s gasp cut through the room. Making everyone turn in response.

“Sir, are you alright?” Daniel waved them off, weary. “I’m fine. Leave me.” They hesitated, exchanging a glance, then obeyed, retreating back into the hall. The silence that followed was broken by the creak of the door again. This time, it was the doctor. Tall, bespectacled, his white coat crisp against the dim room, Dr. McCarthy stepped in with his chart pressed to his chest. He was one of the finest in the city, known for his skill and his ethical spine.

"Suicide. Single gunshot to the head. Hotel room at the Veritas. My people found him twenty minutes ago. He was already cold." “At least he was thorough. And saved me the trouble of testifying.” "He left a note." "What kind of note?" "A confession. Handwritten, notarized yesterday." He spoke in short bursts, each word precise and hard. "Insurance fraud, patient murders, conspiracy to commit murder." "And a partner. Dr. Richard Chen.” My hands went numb. "Who?" "Dr. Richard Chen. Chief of Internal Medicine at Boston Memorial. Your old colleague." Dr. Chen. My mentor. The man who'd recommended me for residency, who'd praised my work.

She was gone, and yet she had ruined him all the same. A soft tap at the door cut into his storm. “Come in,” Kane said, his tone a growl. The doctor slipped inside—a quiet man in his forties, kept on retainer by the Salvatore family for decades. He looked nervous, his satchel clutched at his side as he bowed his head before stepping forward. “My lord,” the doctor said respectfully. “You sent for me earlier? You mentioned the fever hadn’t broken?”

"So, it really is about Kathleen?" "At first," the doctor shrugged. "I believe it falls outside my purview to elucidate every detail for you." "Victor!" Takumi's voice carried an air of authority, but the doctor merely grinned in response. "You needn't worry," he said, his tone reassuring. "I will undoubtedly assist Kathleen in opening a portal to summon and retrieve her friend." Despite his comforting words, Tomoya and Takumi's suspicions continued to grow. "I shall take my leave now," Dr. Kim bowed and exited the room, which was situated just beyond the adjacent wall, close to where Kathleen and Christian were located.

His gray shirt was wrinkled and his five o'clock shadow was proof of how he hasn't had time to look after himself for days. "Caterina?" I heard the doctor call, as he dragged something bright into my eyes. Snapping from my confusion, I looked at the doctor who put away his medical light and grabbed the stethoscope that hung from his neck. "Deep breaths, please." I complied, taking deep breaths as he put the end of the instrument on my chest. He pressed it a few inches around the area before removing the other end from his ears. My eyes returned to the stranger's dazed ones. "How are you feeling, Ms. Santelli?"

Beam said worriedly. Hearing this, Joe finally snapped out of his confusion and then stared intently at Bono. "You fool! It's the opposite. That arrogant young man was actually telling the truth." Joe said with a worried look on his fierce face. Beam's eyes widened, "Sir? Are you sure? You-" "The doctor confirmed it. That damn young man ... he really knew that I had intestinal problems, and do you know what the doctor said? He ... said that I had been cured with an operation. An operation. Did you hear that?" Joe said with a strange look on his face.

Beside them was a doctor in a white coat with a mixed expression of concern and curiosity. "Hello, young lady," the doctor began, addressing Taylor. "Looks like you ran into some trouble." "Maybe," Taylor shrugged defiantly. "Who are you?" "I'm Doctor Sanchez," he said, running his hands on his collar. "Oh, Ophelia is over there," she said pointing to me. "Taylor, he's here for you," I said. I felt so guilty. “I’m sorry we tricked you.” She glanced at me and said, "I know it wasn’t you, Ophelia.” Then she turned around and asked, “Uncle Arthur why did you do this to me? I don't want to see the doctor!" she complained. Her voice was a shrill whine.

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.