The Doctor

         Kurt nodded his head as the girl in front of him droned on. "I have been having this pain in my lower back, Doctor." She massaged her back slowly, running her other hand through her long raven black hair. Her face held a pale smooth sheen that accentuated an innocent allure in her. She looked up at him through long lashes clearly attempting to entice him.

         Kurt smirked to himself. So obvious, he cocked his head to the side breaking out into a shattering smile that he knew was no longer needed. She might as well just come out and say it. He loved this sort of game. It stroked his ego in all the right places.

         Swiveling around in his chair he pretended to write in her chart whispering just loud enough for her to hear, "Well now, Teresa what on earth have you been doing to make your back hurt so bad?" He stood slowly and walked around behind her, lifting her shirt purposefully and placing a firm hand dangerously low on her back. His hands skillfully began to massage her as she melted. "Hmm, I don't feel any misalignment, and there is no sign of contusion, it must be a strain."

         Suddenly he jerked away and moved back to his desk. Teresa gasped at the loss, and took a few seconds to recompose herself. Perfectly stoic in appearance, internally Kurt reveled. "Now I am going to prescribe a muscle relaxer, but more importantly I want you to work on a few simple stretches. I don't have time to show them to you here, perhaps I will make a house call later tonight and walk you through them." He delivered the words with a cold indifference, no hint of impropriety, but the inference was impossible to miss.

         Teresa smiled and slipped a soft giggle, "Whatever you say doctor." Kurt ushered her from his office. He knew she didn't need a muscle relaxer, and he had no intention of prescribing one. The pill he had her taking was part of one of many large scale experiments he was running on the majority of the civilians without their knowing. The pill was a microsupplement of the fungal spores produced out in the wild. Most of its virulence factors were removed, but it still had a 50% chance of going active and making her one of the infected. Luckily, at this early stage of administration there was no risk of transference sexually.

         Kurt hurried down the long corridor from where he saw the general public for their weekly "physicals". At the end of the hallway he pulled a small key from around his neck and unlocked a door to a hidden stairwell. He descended 3 flights and emerged into the depths of his lab. The true purpose of his presence in the legion camp.

         The Lab was little more than a collection of bare concrete rooms. A dozen cells to house his subjects as they went through the various stages of testing. Most were the lucky winners of the monthly lottery secretly held among the civilian populace, but today he was particularly blessed. A series of prisoners had been captured from the waste and he was able to test each of them for promising candidates for his newest project.

         At the center of the lab was a large sealed area that was lined by a one way viewing glass. At the center of that room stood a single medical chair fit with restraints. Kurt peered through the glass at his newest subject a middle aged male, approximately 5'11" 200lbs., athletic build, with a steel eyed expression.

         One Kurt's few assistants addressed him meekly, "Dr. Frasier the results are back from the genetic testing you ordered on the prisoners. Only one met the desired parameters, he has been set up for you in the viewing area."

         Kurt nodded to his underling, and strode into the room with the strapped in man. "Good morning sir," He said in perfectly normal voice. The restrained man made no effort to even look up. "My name is Dr. Frasier, I have to perform some testing. So I would greatly appreciate your cooperation. Can I get your name?" The man continued to stare at the floor. "Hmm, well I will address you as 42. Now 42, I will be administering a special medication to you. You will likely experience a mild burning at the injection site that will trace to your heart, but I assure you the effect is only temporary." With practiced ease Kurt removed a long syringe from a table nearby and injected the formula into the man's arm.

         "Alright 42, now tell me do you feel anything other than the burning sensation, it is absolutely vital you be honest with me, otherwise I won't be able to know what counteracting agent to give you and you will die instantly." Kurt delivered the line simply as matter of fact, while his victims eyes went wide.

         "I..I.. feel a sharp pain in the back of my neck." the man sputtered our begrudgingly.

         "Wonderful, precisely what I hoped." Dr Frasier nodded and promptly left the room. Upon exiting he addressed the lab assistant, "Alright everything checks out, you may proceed." The assistant nodded and rushed off as Kurt took a position in front of the view glass.

         A door opened at the far end of the sealed room. Four guards maneuvered in with a tethered stage 2 infected female. As soon as they entered they dropped the tethers and ran from the room leaving the restrained man alone with the dangerous creature. Dr. Frasier leaned forward in anticipation.

         The deformed monstrosity flailed about the room initially chasing the guards to the door. After a moment it cautiously began to search the room stopping directly in front of the man's chair. Curiously it sniffed the air. Bringing its face only inches away from the terrified captive. Sweat ran like blood from the mans face as he struggled with everything he had to distance himself from the Clicker.

         "Its working." Kurt whispered as the creature continued to just stare mindlessly at the man in the chair. Just then a loud super high pitched screech erupted from the creature. Followed by the screams of the man as he was torn limb from limb. Blood splatter the glass of the view area, but the man continued to scream, gutted alive.

         Kurt sighed. "Well slow progress is better than no progress at all, I suppose." turning to his assistant he muttered dismissively as he gathered his coat to leave, " Clean up that mess, and begin running screens for subject 43." As he exited the lab he whistled to himself. I wonder what Teresa will be wearing when I get there.