The Doctors

© 2000 Aaron Allen
All rights reserved.

"Do you think he's okay?" Michelle asked her husband as they lay in bed together. The house was quiet and all the lights had been turned off in the house, all except Sean's lamp, which burned brightly in the darkness. Sean was sitting up and reading his book, engrossed in the story. When he didn't respond, Michelle tapped him on the shoulder. "Honey?" Sean looked up from the novel at his wife's touch.
"What was that, dear?"
"I asked if you think he's okay." She rolled over and draped her arm over him. "I'm really worried about him." Sean sighed and took off his glasses and closed his book, marking his page, and set both aside on the bedside table. He squirmed down in the bed and brushed stray strands of blonde hair away from his wife's face, planting a tender kiss on her forehead. Michelle smiled and pulled Sean closer, comforted.
"Listen," he said, "I'm sure Robin will be fine." He gave his wife a tight, reassuring hug. "You know how kids are." Robin was their six-year-old son, their pride and joy. His room was across the hall and Sean pictured him sleeping soundly, snuggled down in his soft bed, hugging his stuffed giraffe to his chest as his nightlight gently illuminated the room.

Robin sat up in bed with his sheets clutched tightly between his small, shaking hands. His teeth chattered and his eyes darted around the dark room, waiting. It was deathly quiet and all he could hear was the ticking of the wall clock and his own, frightened heartbeat. The room was dark and unfriendly except for the small nightlight on the opposite side of the room, but it did little to chase away the nightmares. It cast long, reaching shadows from the piles of clothes and toys on the floor - shadows that reached across the room and fell on his bed like gnarled fingers. His dad had consoled him while his mother put him to bed and tried to dispel his fears. He had felt safe then; the darkness wasn't so dark when he was with someone, but now that he was alone and his giraffe was lost somewhere on the floor, its tiny furry body lost in the shadows, Robin began to panic. He could barely bring himself to pick up his stuffed animal but, mustering up all the courage he could, he quickly lunged from bed and grabbed the fuzzy Giraffe, apprehensively leaping back into his sheets the moment his bare feet touched the floor. He pulled the protective sheets up around his neck, uncontrollably trembling. He wasn't scared of the dark; he was too old for that. Only babies were afraid of the dark.
He whimpered and wrapped his blankets around him tightly. No, he wasn't scared of the dark, he was afraid of what was in it. He was afraid of the Doctors.

"I know, Sean," Michelle said, doubt still lingering in her mind, "but you weren't there when he freaked out. He was screaming and crying so much, I thought he had lost his mind."
"Don't talk like that," Sean gasped. "He's going to be fine; just got a little scared, is all. It happens."
"All I did was tell him he was going in to see the doctors tomorrow, just a check-up, and he freaked out. He went as white as a sheet and ran screaming from the room, screaming like he was being murdered for heaven's sake. I'd never seen him act that way before. He kept screaming that he didn't want to see the doctors and that the doctors would get him and cut him up. I couldn't even get him out of the basement. What would make him say such disgusting things? I was so scared, Sean, I didn't know what to do ... I ... I called the neighbours, but...."

Robin peeked out from under his sheets and tried to keep calm. His nightlight had begun to flicker, just like last time, and he almost screamed but bit down hard, choking back the fear. It was all happening again. He could feel the darkness growing heavier around him. The Doctors had come before, the horrible experience was branded into Robin's mind and he was forced to relive it each time he closed his eyes. When he had told his parents, blurting out the horrible experience through sobs and tears, they had said it was only a nightmare, but he knew better. It had been too real, too vivid to be a dream. Now he knew what they wanted. They wanted him.
Robin had been sleeping when they first came, two shadowy figures arriving out of the darkness and standing over him, watching him sleep. He remembered waking and feeling them leering at him. He had kept completely still and silent, playing possum, until they were gone. He had no choice; it was as if their very presence brought so much dread and fear that it paralysed him like some venomous poison. When they were gone, he had run from his room and jumped in bed with his parents, clinging to them desperately.
The second time they came, Robin had been awake, that same helpless terror overtaking him and forcing him to watch and feel them, unable to scream. He had been lying on his side and saw them out of the corner of his eye but couldn't run away. He had shut his eyes tight, wishing them away, but they moved in closer and he felt their hot breath prickling the back of his neck. He had tried to pretend he was sleeping again - like they weren't there - but he had begun to tremble and the Doctors had poked him with sharp fingers and pinched his arms and legs, measuring and sizing. Robin's cries were locked in his throat and he didn't move, frozen in fear as panic pumped through his racing heart. Their touch was clammy, cold, revolting. As soon as they had come, the Doctors had vanished, but Robin knew they would be back. He had been examined.

"Shhhh," Sean whispered to his wife, pulling her closer. She snuggled up against him, pressing her face into his shoulder as tears began to spill from her eyes. He had forgotten how shaken she had been about Robin's incident and how hysterical she had sounded when she had called him home from work to coax Robin out of the basement, where he had locked himself in. It hadn't been easy, and the look in Robin's eyes had been so timid and scared that Sean couldn't possibly imagine what could have gotten him so upset. It was only a check-up at the doctors, for Christ's sake.
"I'm a horrible mother," Michelle sniffled. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No," Sean said. "I bet it was one of his friends or something. Maybe he heard about the stories going around in the newspaper, the ones about that killer who has been cutting people up people while they sleep. I bet one of his friends saw it on the news and told him about it, now he's got himself all spooked."
"You think?"
"Yeah, I'm sure he'll be fine. You're an excellent mother. He calmed down after I talked to him and you put him to bed, remember? I'm sure he's sleeping like a baby right now. Trust me honey, don't worry." Sean sighed, clicking off the lamp. Michelle shivered.
"Brrr, it's cold. Did you turn on the heater?" Sean nodded and they both rolled over, ready to get to sleep. Sean drifted off quickly but Michelle remained awake for a half an hour more, chewing on her thumbnail and wondering about Robin.

Robin's breaths were misty puffs as the temperature dropped quickly and heralded the Doctors' coming. Robin knew they were Doctors because he had seen them. They had poked and prodded him, examining him like an animal, before disappearing back into the darkness. When they came, you couldn't stop them and once they got you there was no escape. Robin had been sitting in bed for over an hour, shivering and trembling in the cold as that one disturbing fact echoed in his thoughts. There was no escape. His teeth chattered and he looked longingly at the door. It seemed so far away.
Suddenly, the nightlight went out with a flash and the room went black. Robin tried to cry out but only uttered a soft gasp. It felt like his throat was closing up and he could already feel that body-freezing horror sweeping over him, numbing his limbs. Maybe, just maybe, if he stayed still and didn't fight it, then they might pass over him and go away. Lost in the shadows the ticking of the clock stopped. Maybe if he didn't move they'd leave him alone. Maybe, maybe he'd be safe.
As Robin's eyes adjusted to the dark, he saw something strange happening to the far wall. The wall looked warped, bulging and twisting as though it were being squeezed from the sides as something tried to escape from behind it. In the centre of the wall, a pointed bulge began to appear like something was pressing on the other side with a finger.
To Robin's horror, the thing on the other side of the wall broke free and he saw what he thought was a claw slowly being pushed through the wall as though it were cutting through nothing but paper. Gradually, carefully, with a steady, unwavering movement, the long, thin, sharp object began to slide down the wall, cutting a large, clean slit through its centre. The sound was like a knife ripping through thin canvas and it made Robin's skin break out in cold goose bumps. It ended where the carpet met the wall and then it stopped, drawing back into the slit and disappearing. Silence.
Robin clutched his giraffe tighter to his chest as a cold, pale white light began to drift from the vertical slash in the wall, like mist. He realized, in the chilly silence, what he had feared all along. It wasn't a claw that had cut through the wall; it was a scalpel.
The surreal gash in the wall began to open, pulled apart like tent flaps by some unseen hands, and uncovered a long stone corridor, bathed in an icy blue light that reached endlessly into a shadowy void. Robin could hear voices and screams - a thousand hushed whispers all talking at once - rushing from the corridor like wind and floating on the faint, tinkling sound of distant crying. The torturous sounds filled Robin's bedroom and called out his name, pleading for him to flee. From the eerie portal came two twisted, silhouetted figures that stood there in the entry, the long corridor running behind them into another world. Robin couldn't pry his eyes away but bit down, hard, on his blanket. He tried to kick his legs but they lay heavy and useless. Slowly, the Doctors stepped out of the wall and the pale light unveiled their hideous features from the shadows.

Michelle sat up in bed, looking around the room. Something was definitely not right. She clicked on her lamp and found herself sweating. It was too cold for summer, that was for sure, but there was something else. Something she couldn't put her finger on - something indescribable. Sean groaned beside her, half asleep, and gestured for her to turn off the light. She swallowed hard and, after a few moments, clicked off the lamp, setting her head back down on her pillow. She listened closely to the sounds of the sleeping house for anything unusual but heard nothing more than her husband's breathing. She tried to tell herself it was nothing, but as she closed her eyes and found her pulse beating too fast and her breathing too quick, she felt it brooding over her heart like a dark cloud. Something was definitely, horribly wrong.

The first Doctor was freakishly tall, having to crouch down as it stepped into the room. It was thin and lanky, moving in long, slender strides. It clutched the scalpel in its fist. Its spidery fingers stretched out over six inches long and curled tightly around the menacing blade. Its ghastly face was long like a horse's and covered in patches of raw pink and dusty brown flesh - as if it had stretched a tight mask of foreign skin over its face to hide its features. Robin cowered as his eyes raced over the crisscrossing stitches and patches that held together its face and saw, in the small gaps between, its natural tissue throbbing and oozing beneath. Its eyes were featureless, twitching bulges where the flesh had been pulled and stitched over them, and the skin that would have covered its mouth had been crudely torn away and dangled from its lips while exposing large fangs, jutting from blackened gums in a continuously bloody grin. It wore a long white lab coat covered by a slick, black apron. It also wore long black boots and black gloves that were pulled up to its elbows. Robin could clearly see the violent splatters and speckles of blood that stained it.
Following behind the monster came the second Doctor, considerably shorter than the first but no less disgusting. In the darkness it appeared like a human child, but when it stepped into the pale blue light that now filled the room, Robin had to fight to keep the bile in his throat. It wore the same gloves, apron and coat as its companion but its face was hideously skeletal. The flesh around its face had been surgically removed to expose its skull; bits of muscle and strings of fat still clung to the scarlet bone. Its beady, blood-shot eyes swam in dark, hollow sockets and it wore a surgical mask, sparing Robin the sight of its corpse-like mouth. It wheeled a medical cart before it, rusty and squeaking as it rolled across the carpet. Robin stared wide-eyed at the cart and the sinister assortment of equipment that banged around on its tray. He saw jagged and rusty knives, a long bloodied drill, some sort of mangled electric saw, and numerous clamps, pins, and forceps before he forced himself to look away - the thought of the brutal practices such tools were made for made him sick.
The tall Doctor approached the bed, swinging its scalpel and viciously slashing Robin's teddy bear, which sat on his dresser. The bear's button eye flew from its severed face and stuffing drifted to the floor. The sight of the scalpel, abnormally long and serrated to fit the creature's grip, slitting the bear finally broke Robin's terrified paralysis. The image of that blade tearing through his skin and its slow, maddening rip was too much and Robin violently jerked, his flailing arms knocking over his baseball lamp, as he let loose a heart-wrenching scream. Robin yanked the sheets up over his head and the Doctors rushed forward.

Michelle woke with a start and shook her husband.
"Sean, Sean!"
Robin's father jumped and shot out of bed, his feet getting tangled in the sheets, and knocked over the lamp as he fumbled to turn it on.
"Michelle, what?"
"Do you hear that?"
"What, what?" Sean's mind reeled, his brain still fogged with sleep. He steadied himself and stood up, bracing himself against the wall and regained his bearings.
"I heard Robin!"
"You were just dreaming."
"No, he screamed!"
"Are you—"
Another scream cut Sean off as it echoed into his parent's room. Michelle's heart jumped in her chest. Both parents froze and looked to the hall. Sean swore.
"Mommy!" Robin wailed from his room, and both parents rushed for the door.

The tall Doctor ripped the sheets and coverlet away, flinging them across the room as its long fingers branched out for Robin. Robin scurried up the bed until his back was pressed against the headboard and he continued to scream. The small Doctor parked the cart at the side of Robin's bed and began to set up, slowly placing the tools in order. The tall Doctor snarled and chittered, grasping Robin's ankle and dragging him down the mattress. Robin kicked and shouted.
"Daddy! Mommy!" He was faintly aware of the banging coming from his bedroom door and he started to shout out again, but the Doctor silenced him by cupping its long, bony hand over Robin's mouth. The Doctor thrust its patchwork-skinned face forward and snapped at Robin's nose. Its breath was like hot, rotting meat, and Robin began to cry.

"Come on, buddy, open the door," Sean shouted to Robin from the hall and threw himself against the door. "We're here! Open the door!" Michelle was pulling at her hair and biting her nails, yelling at her husband.
"Do something! Help him, Sean, do something!"
Sean turned and snapped at his wife.
"Shut up, I am doing something! He must have locked it!" The door wouldn't budge and Sean tried again. Sean knew it couldn't be possible because, despite what he had just yelled, the door had no lock. It never had. The doorknob turned loosely but the door remained sealed. He panicked and pounded his fists.
"Oh God," Michelle sobbed, "He's stopped screaming. I can't hear him! Help him, damn it!" Sean threw himself against the door, swore loudly, then turned and rushed down the stairs. His wife screamed his name in surprised anger but he disappeared around the corner.

The little Doctor pulled the stuffed giraffe from Robin's hands and cast it across the room. The little Doctor jumped up on the bed and fell on Robin, holding down Robin's arms and legs as the child screamed and gagged into the sock that had been stuffed into his mouth. The tall Doctor stood beside them with the scalpel and slowly brought it down toward Robin.
Robin tried to squirm, but the little Doctor held him still and the tall Doctor drew one of its long fingers across Robin's chest. It popped off the buttons of his pyjama shirt as it brought the tip of the scalpel blade to rest on Robin's forehead, stopping just before the knife broke skin. Slowly the Doctor drew the blade down Robin's face, making the tiniest of incisions as the scalpel ran smoothly between his eyes, over the tip of his nose, down his lips, chin, neck and chest before stopping at his stomach. The Doctor never flinched and the cut was perfectly straight. With the guideline set, the Doctors prepared to operate.
Robin could only lie on his bed and scream into his gag as the tall Doctor teased him with the scalpel and the thin cut began to bleed. Hot blood ran down his cheeks, mixing with his already streaming tears, and Robin almost passed out at the sight, feeling the world tip and sway.
The tall Doctor placed the scalpel in the front of his apron pocket and turned toward the medical cart. Thick drool ran from its mangled lips as it wriggled its fingers over the cart in indecision before finally, leisurely, settling its hold on the electric saw.

Sean came bounding back up the stairs with the large hammer from his workshop and pushed Michelle out of the way. Her eyes were red and blurred with tears. She screamed anxiously.
"Hurry, Sean, hurry!"
Sean grit his teeth and attacked the door.
"We're coming, Robin!"

The pounding on the door continued as Robin lay helpless and dizzy. The tall Doctor switched on the saw and the rusty, serrated, circular blade kicked and spun, flicking off leftover pieces of flesh and blood that spattered on the wall. It whirled and buzzed like a dentist's drill. The saw and the hammering at the door brought Robin back from the brink of blacking out and he kicked and bucked weakly. The small Doctor kept him pinned to the bed and hissed at his attempts to escape. The tall Doctor leaned over and lowered the searing saw toward Robin's face.

Michelle bit her thumbnail as her husband attacked the door. The wood began to splinter and crack as Sean hammered it relentlessly. She couldn't imagine what was happening in there and she didn't want to try - it was taking all her will and strength to keep her from going totally insane with dread as it was. When she broke her nail between her teeth she didn't even notice. Sean let out a powerful cry as the hammer smashed through.

The saw came buzzing between Robin's eyes as the Doctor leaned over, its saliva dripping from its chops and splattering onto Robin's neck. As the Doctor leaned, the forgotten scalpel began to slip from its apron pocket. When it thrust the saw forward, Robin drew back. A horrible smash at the door made the Doctors cringe and flinch, jerking their heads around to face the unwelcome intruders. As the tall Doctor turned, its scalpel slipped away and fell from its pocket, landing flat on Robin's chest. As the hammer smashed through the door and its head lay embedded in the wood, the small Doctor loosened its grip on the boy. Robin arched his back and yanked his arms, pulling away.
The small Doctor turned just in time to see Robin frantically snatch up the scalpel, clutching it like a miniature sword. The small Doctor's pupils went wide with surprise and it lunged forward. Robin screamed and wrenched the sock from his mouth while slashing blindly at the monster, back and forth. The tall Doctor turned back to Robin as the serrated scalpel caught the small Doctor in the throat for the fourth time and tore out a deep wound. The small Doctor reached up and gurgled as dark, black blood began to pour out and over its gloved hands. It tore away its surgical mask and opened its skeleton jaws to gasp for air, a long swollen tongue wriggling like a worm. Robin screamed in panic and thrust the scalpel at the small creature again, driving it through the wound, twisting against the cartilage, and burying it up to its hilt in the small Doctor's neck.
The tall Doctor's mutilated mouth opened in a furious howl as it clutched its bony hand into a fist and knocked the smaller Doctor away. The bleeding demon smashed into the cart of equipment and the bedside table, bringing it all crashing down to the floor. Quickly, the tall Doctor slammed its hand onto Robin's mouth, wrapped its gaunt fingers around his head, and raised the screaming saw up into the air.
As the Doctor slashed down with the saw, Robin kicked out and slammed his foot into the monster's gut while biting down on its hand as hard as he could. Robin felt his teeth break skin as the Doctor doubled over from his unexpected kick, the saw slipping from the monster's grasp, missing its mark. The blade ripped into Robin's pillow, sending up a mangled storm of fluff and shredded pillow casing. Furious, the Doctor pressed its other hand down on Robin's bleeding face, pushing his head further back into the mattress and smothering him. Robin shrieked and grasped for the wildly buzzing saw. The tall Doctor pushed Robin's face deeper into the mattress and Robin gasped for air.
Robin's fingers brushed across the bloody metal handle of the saw. He clutched it and thrust it blindly up at the Doctor. Robin felt the saw rip through the Doctor's pelvis, abdomen, and torso. Robin paused, the whining of the saw resonating in his ears, and then drove the saw in, twisting it violently and burying the whirling blade deep into the tall Doctor's chest.
As the blade ate through the front of its apron and into its chest, the tall Doctor sat up and released Robin's head, its long fingers wrapping around Robin's arm to try to force the boy away. Robin gasped and looked up at the panicking monster, clutching the saw in both hands and driving it further into the Doctor's chest with renewed conviction, struggling against the heavy layers of throbbing tissue. Blood and flesh flew and the revolting sound of tearing meat was constant. The Doctor writhed in terrible pain, but Robin was relentless. The rusty electric saw steadily hacked through the Doctor - the creature appeared to lack bones, with only a pulsating mass of stitched flesh continuing past its patchwork skin - and the monster sunk deeper and deeper onto the blade, burying Robin up to his wrists in its chest. The Doctor gave a sudden, gurgled moan as it threw itself down on Robin in a desperate attempt to strangle him, but the saw only dug further into his chest and plunged directly into its heart. As the Doctor's heart was shred into dark, mangled bits, the gory wound was torn open further by a sudden surge of sweltering, black blood poured that gushed forth and splashed over Robin, making him bawl.
The windows rattled and the room shook as the Doctor squealed in pain and dark blood vomited from its mouth and began to leak through the stitches that bound its face. All of a sudden, the closet door exploded outward and Robin's things started flying around the room, caught up in a hurricane. Robin's piggybank rocketed across the room and smashed into the wall, spewing pennies and dimes. The bed rocked back and forth as the struggling body of the small Doctor was lifted up and tossed around in the air, finally to be sucked into the gash in the wall and disappeared. The force of the wind tried to wrench the tall Doctor from Robin's bed, too, but it held on and screamed in rage, as deep and ear-piercing as a train whistle, its sharp fingers clawing at the mattress. Finally, it lost its hold on the boy as the bedroom door flung open. It howled as it was wrenched back and into the air and sucked back into wall from whence it came. The chaos ended in a sudden flash.

Michelle and Sean were knocked forward as the door was suddenly flung open, a tremendous surge of cold air sucking them into the room like a terrible vacuum. They were blinded by a sudden blue flash that exploded from Robin's bed. Both were knocked off their feet and for a moment, before it could fully register in his mind, Sean thought he saw something in the wall - some sort of doorway or rift, sucking something shadowy and furious back into the darkness like a black hole - but then the light was gone and all was eerily silent.
"Mommy," he heard Robin cry out softly, while the angry whine he heard screaming from Robin's room still rang in his ears and bright light spots still danced and lingered across his eyes before his vision adjusted to the abrupt darkness. Robin sprung from his bed and rushed toward his parents.
"My God," Michelle exclaimed as she caught their son up in into her arms and he latched on to her tightly, pressing his face into his mother's neck and cried. She stood and scooped him up. "What happened to you?" she asked and ran her hand over the cut that ran down Robin's face and chest, a thin line of blood sticking to her fingers. His hands and his pyjamas from the waist down were stained with a sticky, tar-like substance. She also saw small amounts splattered on the walls, soiling the bed, and speckled on the ceiling. Robin buried his bleeding face deeper in his mother's embrace and sobbed.
Meanwhile, Sean looked around the room, utterly speechless. The stained sheets were ripped from the bed and sprawled out on the floor, a ragged mess. The closet was open and the doors hung weakly off their hinges; Robin's toys, which had been put away in the closet, lay scattered and strewn about the room along with his small, bedside table, which had been tipped over, spilling Robin's knickknacks and junk onto the floor. He flicked on the light switch but nothing happened; the light bulb had been shattered. It looked like a tornado had gone through his son's room, and Sean was baffled. How could one kid - his kid - do so much damage?
"Mommy?" Robin pleaded. Michelle exchanged confused, frightened glances with her husband, obviously wondering the same thing he was. She looked again over Robin's wound and hugged him close, unable to believe her son could do that to himself. It was unthinkable.
"Mommy, the Doctors," Robin sniffled, "they came. They came, they came, they came!" Michelle soothed her hysterical son and told him it was all right - that the Doctors were gone now - as she quickly left the room with him and hurried down the stairs, telling her husband she was going to call the ambulance.
Better make it the police, too, Sean thought as he was left standing alone in the room, his exhausted mind trying to put everything together like a twisted jigsaw puzzle. He saw it all but none of it seemed to register with him. Even the windows were cracked, and that same inky substance ran down them. What the hell was that Goddamn flash? Was it the breaking light bulb or was it something else? What was it he had thought he'd seen in the wall, surely a trick of the light? And that black goo? Sean shook his head, unable to take it, and walked toward the bed.
As he crossed the room and stepped over a pile of toys, his shocked gaze drifted over to the cut up corpse of Robin's teddy bear. Lying near by was Robin's giraffe. Sean picked it and the bear up.
"Jesus," he whispered and sat down on the bed. It looked as if someone had put the teddy bear under the knife. Was it Robin? No, it couldn't be. It was ludicrous to even think it. His son was definitely not that deranged ... and then there was that black stuff. What was it? He touched a small puddle of the slime on the mattress. It stuck to his fingers, warm, but he suddenly jerked his hand away in shock and flung himself away. The horrible liquid had moved.
"Ow," he shouted as his hand ran over something sharp. A deep gash appeared across his palm, stung, and began to bleed. He closed his hand and shook it in pain, looking down at the mattress. He reached under the remains of Robin's shredded pillow, grasping something long and metallic. Sean pulled it out and held it up, blinking in amazement. After a moment of stunned silence he closed his eyes and let the industrial and bloodied electric saw drop to the floor with a clang.
Doctors?
"Jesus, Robin," he whispered to himself. "Jesus Christ."

Downstairs, Robin still clung to Michelle. As Sean came stumbling down the stairs, Michelle was just picking up the phone. She paused and looked at her husband. His eyes were wide and his face drained of all colour. He held Robin's giraffe in one hand and his other was bleeding heavily, leaving a trail of tiny droplets on the carpet as he walked. As he approached, Robin clutched his mother tighter, his sobbing subsiding to a trembling silence. Michelle looked for an explanation from her husband. She was so racked with confusion and terror she could barely stand, only able to clutch her son to her bosom tightly before starting to dial.
Sean walked over and gently unhooked the phone. The line went dead, and Michelle looked crossly at her husband.
"Sean, what the hell?"
Sean looked at his hand, still sticky with vile black blood, and felt his stomach churn.
"No," he said softly. "No ambulance. No police. We're going to a hotel. We're going now."
Michelle stood aghast.
"You can't be serious? Robin needs medical attention. So do you, by the looks of it. If you think you can just deny - " Sean shook his bloody hand and turned on his wife.
"No medics! No police!" Robin was startled and began to cry again. Sean took his son from his mother's embrace and held him, silently soothing him. Robin groped for the giraffe and Sean released it. Robin hid his face in its yellow fur. "Go get our things," Sean told Michelle, "but don't you dare go into that room."
"But—"
"Do it!"
Michelle flinched and hesitated, fresh tears streaking her puffy cheeks before she made for the stairs. Sean soothed his wailing son until his cries hushed back to sobs, rocking him in his arms and kissing his cut forehead.
"I'm sorry Robin," he whispered in his son's ear, over and over, his own tears starting to flow. "I'm so sorry."
"Daddy?" Robin said, his voice a hoarse and barely audible plea.
"Yes?"
"I don't want to go to the doctors."
Sean stood silent for a moment, visions passing through his mind. The torn sheets, the creeping, black stains, the jagged, electric saw lying accusingly on the floor, rusty and dripping.
"No," Sean said to his son. "Never." He held his son tighter, wrapping Robin's arms around his neck. A few moments later, Michelle was came back downstairs with a few small suitcases in her hands and a coat draped over her arm and joined them, looking lost.
"Thank you," Robin sighed as he was handed back to his mother.
Sean put his arm around his family and quickly ushered them out the door. He stopped only to look up at Robin's bedroom window as they crossed the driveway. Dark clouds played against the sky and hid the moon from sight, leaving the view dark and forbidding, giving no indication of the innocent child who had played there.
The family piled into the car and Sean keyed the engine. He'd be back in the morning before his family awoke, to fix things and clean the room so that everything would be fine again. With a new door, some paint, a few garbage bags, a new light bulb and a mop, everything would be all right. Maybe they'd even move. No one ever had to know.
No, he promised himself again, backing out into the driveway. No more doctors, Robin.

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