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Circulation: 194,803,276 |
Issue: 796 | 8th day of Gathering, Y19 |
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"The Untold Tales of Dr. Death" by vaeneficus
It was early August, and the last days of summer were setting upon Neopia. With the heat subsiding and the leaves beginning to turn colors, the change had come as a welcome relief. The starry sky shone down upon the clearing, illuminating the campsite of Evelyn the Aisha and her friends. They had ventured out to a small forest to spend a few days in the great outdoors.
She crossed her arms as the Cybunny twins began making shadow puppets on the tents with their ears. “That’s nice, but we were supposed to be telling ghost stories,” she reminded them.
Beside her, a small voice spoke up. “But I’d rather sing songs and hear jokes,” the baby Aisha said. It was Evelyn’s sister, Ivy, who had made the quiet request.
“I don’t know any ghost stories,” Hazel (that was the first Cybunny) said.
“Well,” her sister (Brie) replied, “I might know one or two.”
The other girl looked at her in surprise. “You know a story that I don’t?”
“Yes,” Brie said, keeping a straight face.
Hazel snorted. “I doubt that. We know almost everything about each other. And I know that you know that we don’t know any ghost stories.” She took a breath, recovering from the statement. Hazel squinted then. Her sister was smiling. “The one about the jelly Poogle doesn’t count.”
The two debated furiously over whether or not they would tell Brie’s story, but before they could make up their minds (or challenge one another to a duel) Evelyn decided to intervene.
“How about I tell a story?” she said. “I have a good one saved up anyway.”
“What is it about?” Ivy asked.
Evelyn let out a sly smile. “Dr. Death.”
“Yikes!” Brie said. “You mean that scary guy who works at the pound?”
“The very same,” Evelyn said. “You see, everyone has a story. And even someone as cruel as that didn’t necessarily start out that way. Let me tell you about how Dr. Death got his mean streak.”
The girls gathered close, watching the flickering of the firelight across her face.
“It all began at an old hospital facility, in a place called The Wellness Wing. It was a program run out of a half-abandoned hospital in Neopia. Their main purpose was helping pets who couldn’t afford treatment. They took in all kinds of cases. And some got better, while others just vanished, never to be heard from again. To this day, some of them are still unaccounted for.”
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