CreepyPasta Scenarios

Meeting: Dr. Smiley

Dr. Smiley:

You hissed in pain, tears falling slowly down your puffy and pink cheeks. You leaned against an alleyway for support, as you couldn't really stand well on your own, your trembling preventing you.

You'd been mugged.

You were left without your heels, purse, and everything on your purse. You had also been beaten up pretty badly, and you had some places you knew would most likely need stitches. You were soaked in your own blood and it sickened you.

A man, looking to be in his late teens, maybe nineteen or so years old, approached you and your eyes shined with hope. Maybe he could help you.

He had very pale skin and a charming smile, his hair black and messy. Your heart swelled with even more hope as you noticed his white shirt, the sleeves rolled up, a black tie loosely hanging around his neck, and a surgeon's mask hanging around his neck.

"P-Please... H-Help me..." You said tearfully.

He offered a comforting smile that calmed you more and nodded. "I'm Dr. Smiley. I can help you... Come with me to my office..." He offered out his hand and your trembling hand took it, staining his hands with a shiny red substance. His hands were surprisingly soft.

He led you carefully to a broken down looking building at the very edge of town, woods back behind it and you began to get a bit nervous, but he smiled softly and your nerves were calmed slightly. He was a doctor. He didn't want to hurt you. He wanted to help you.

He led you inside and you looked at the blood staining a couch in what looked like a sterile and neat waiting room. It had clean tile floors and nicely painted walls, a desk off to the side and a few potted plants around the room. In the waiting room, hung pictures. They disturbed you almost as much as the bloodied couch, the pictures of old insane asylum treatments, like leeching and treppanning. They were gory and much too graphic for your taste, but at least most of them were painted or drawn in black and white.

You looked to him in question, the blood on the couch scaring you.

He shook his head. "That was an emergency surgery I had to do a few days ago... Another doctor was using the surgery room. The janitor will be sterilizing it soon." He explained, but it didn't do much to calm your nerves. It just seemed so odd.

Dr. Smiley led you back to an operating room and pulled on gloves, patting a spo ton the table. You hesitantly laid down as he grabbed his scalpel.

"Ar-Aren't you g-going to m-make me fall a-asleep or whatev-ever first?" You stammered anxiously.

He shook his head, surgeon's mask pulled up over his lips. "It will..." He paused. "Make your blood flow faster and it could cause you to bleed to death..."

You didn't quite believe him, but it sounded legitimate, like something a doctor would say or explain in surgery, so you simply nodded in reply.

The next few hours were incredibly painful, as he stitched you up and such. He seemed hesitant, as if he wanted to do something else, but he really did help you out.

He slowly helped you sit up. "Alright. Well, I'll need to give you a sponge bath..." Dr. Smiley said. Your cheeks flamed up red, but you slowly nodded.

He was, after all, a doctor.