The doctors waiting area was silent. Trying to conceal the pain I felt was easy; thanks to the blinding white theme of the room. I wasn’t the only one confining in the doctor because of an abnormal lump. I have counted about three others, but my wound looks worse. An elderly lady walked patiently into the room and looked over her glasses.
“Could Mr. Ashleighs please make his was to cubicle F. Doctor Cameron will be with you shortly.”
I stood up from the uncomfortable, white stool and walked towards the exit where the nurse still stood. In an attempt of friendliness, I tried half heartedly to smile.
Cubicle F is at the end of the hallway. My parents said that in their day, the doctors had separate rooms. Now, to save money, the doctors have separate booths, about the size of two toilet cubicles joined together. Inside is usually a tiny, fold out bed and a desk, filled with the doctor’s important utensils.
I sat impatiently on the bed. The doctor would probably arrive in about 2 minutes. I decided to inspect my wound, once again. On my forearm is a lump, kind of like a pimple, about the size of a golf ball. It’s been there for a week but has kept growing. The yellowish puss lump is a little transparent, allowing a dark outline of a core.
I was startled when the door opened. A female doctor was standing at the door and really she was pretty and looked smart for her age; about twenty-five. It was pretty rare to see a female doctor these days, as the new Prime Minister frowns upon women having important roles in society.
“Good morning Mr. Ashleighs. My name is Doctor Cameron. I see that you have been one of the many people who posses that abnormal lump. I personally haven’t seen or treated one as bad as yours. Would you like to rest your arm on the desk and I will take a little look?” She gestured to the white table covered in silver equipment.
Doctor Cameron prodded my large lump with a scalpel. A searing pain shot up my arm. Not because of the blades touch but because it felt like the core of the pimple was alive and ‘wriggling’. The thing moved and writhed under my skin. It felt like the stab of a knife. The lump started to split under pressure. A crack formed and a gooey warm pus substance, foreign to my body, oozed out.
All of a sudden, the doctor jumped backwards, blocking my view of my wound. Dr. Cameron backed into the door; shock filling her expression. I looked back at my arm and understood the doctor’s fears. A slim worm like creature cascaded from the pimples split. It is covered in pus, but it can easily be seen. The alien’s skin looked like grey leather. It sat tall on the table and looked menacingly at both me and the doctor.
The doctor’s courage surprised me. She had overcome her fears in a matter of seconds. Her hand reached shakily forward, just inches away from the alien. It seemed friendly enough as it slid up her hand and wrested itself around her neck; like a scarf. It opened its mouth, presenting layers of sharp, small teeth. It stabbed its teeth into her neck, piercing her skin. She let out a cry of pain and distress, but slowly quieted as venom was released into her system.
I heard screams and shout of help coming from the other cubicles. I knew immediately that the other people with the lumps were in the same situation. The alien worm released itself from the doctor’s neck and slithered along the ground towards me. In an attempt of escape, I rushed towards the door and shut it on the way out. I made my way from the exit; just in time to see the elderly nurse, which had led me to my appointment, being attacked by an alien that looks identical to the one that had hatched from me. It sucked her neck in triumph. I had to leave. These creatures were taking over and I knew I could not stop them. This was the start of the earth being taken over.
