The Devils Doctor

Anesthesia

"Why would we have anesthetics? We are in Hell. We do not relieve pain.", The purple skinned nurse to the doctors right said. Her voice was monotone yet bitter at the same time.  She stared at him, surely awaiting to chastise more of his ignorant questions with more dry wit.

"That makes no sense but alright." The doctor replied. It did make sense but he did not want to give the nurse the satisfaction of  being right. He wiped his brow for the hundredth time, exchanging the sweat off his brow for the soot on his sleeves. "Can I get anything to drink? I'm sweating buckets."

"We have holy water."  The green skinned nurse to the doctors left said. "But you probably shouldn't drink it." Her tone was much friendlier then the other woman's.  The doctor took the vial and shook it a tad. It was a thick white and gold vial with a hard plastic cork.

"There is no anesthesia here in Hell..." The doctor said, making sure to make air quotes with his free hand for that last part. "But we have holy water." The doctor uncorked the vial. "And there is nothing inside it." 

"Its a full vial. Stop shaking it so haphazardly." The purple nurse was always quick to chastise. 

"The vial is full like she said. Please, please do not drop it." The green nurse edged away from the skeptical doctor.

"Then why cant I see it?" The doctor said.

"You just have to believe it is there." The two nurses said in unison.

The doctor stared straight into the vial. Before the doctor could inquire again about the mysterious so called liquid, three loud pounds, each more malicious then the last emanated from behind. Above the window behind them a loud speaker of sorts blared and a voice as disgruntled as it was grumpy erupted from it.

"We do not have time, DOCTOR." The voice emphasized the word doctor.  "Need I have to remind you. Flaming hot lake of excrement. For an eternity."

"That means forever." The purple nurse chimed in, her tone as low as her regard for the Doctor.

The doctor gripped the vial and tried his best to regain his composure. So I am in Hell, supposedly. And I have to perform surgery, with medical equipment  that looks like it came from an occult gift shop. And if I cannot save him  I spend an eternity in a lake of hot shit. Speaking of hot shit...

"Where is the A/C? It feels like 120 degrees and I am melting over here." 

"Why would we have an A/C? We are in Hell. We do not cool things here." The purple nurse said.

"Right, right. Total sense." The doctor said trying to nurse his ego.

"I'm just kidding let me get that for you." The purple nurse turned to the wall behind her. The doctor could of sworn she saw a smirk on her face. "There. 95." She smiled for what seemed like a microsecond before returning to her neutral deadpan.

"Thank you I guess." The doctor said halfheartedly before finally refocusing toward his patient. The patient lie motionless under a burgundy and brown blanket with a hole hastily cut into it revealing his laboriously breathing chest.  He looked petite, his light red skin damp with sweat. The doctor reached out, lifting the blanket but before he could reveal more of the patient figure a green hand met his. The nurse stared silently, holding down his hand and thus the sheet.  Her face told him that he was not allowed to learn his patients identity.  "Uh-hmm... Scal...pel." At this point the Doctor was unsure what medical equipment Hell had and he was not in the mood to be reprimanded by a certain nurse.  Surprisingly the purple one handed one over without complaint. It looked like a scalpel but it was pearly white and heavily inscribed with words in a language he had never seen before. Upon closer inspection it looked blunt.

"How am I supposed to Cut-" Upon uttering that syllable the scalpels edge thinned,  the blade reflected the rooms light threefold.

"Very carefully. Were counting on you" The green one said.  The purple one nodded in agreement.

The doctor tuned the two out and wiped his forehead for the dozenth time.