Hello again, everyone! This is the tenth story in my series. Let me jsut say this, the story starts out kind goofy in the first two chapters, but it picks up in chapter three. PLEASE bear with me here. I want to thank those of you who read this---whether you like it or not---thank you for at least considering it. I'll be posting three chapters at a time. I hope you enjoy this story.

There is...in this (melancholic) humour, the very seeds of fire... In the daytime they are affrighted still by some terrible object, and torn in pieces with suspicion, fear, sorrow, discontents, cares, shame, anguish, etc., as so many wild horses, that they cannot be quiet an hour, a minute of time, but even against their wills they are intent, and still thinking of it, they cannot forget it, it grinds their souls day and night, they are perpetually tormented..."

Robert Burton

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You have no time to run from a face you do not expect.

Elizabeth Brown – The Demon Lover

-Part 1-

"Occupational Hazard"

Exam 1 is dimly illuminated by the dusky light filtering in from outside. Dr. Robin Shepherd sleeps soundly on a gurney placed up against the wall. The blinds are closed, making everything serene and quiet.

Someone opens the door and stands for a second before saying, "Robin? Dr. Shepherd?"

Robin sighs and mumbles sarcastically, "Dr. Robin Shepherd is not here at the moment, please leave a message after the beep. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep..." Her voice is low and muffled by her pillow.

"Well, when you get back, you have a patient with a laceration to the hand in Curtain 1," they tell her, amused by her sarcasm. Then, they let the door close as she continues to lay there, not moving.

Minutes later, the door to Exam 1 opens slowly and Dr. Shepherd shuffles out, reluctantly.

Sam stands beside her with the chart. "Name's Woods. Laceration to the left hand. Curtain 1."

"Alrighty!" Robin says cheerfully. She and Sam make their way to the patient. "Mr. Woods, I'm Dr. Shepherd. I hear ya got a big cut on your hand," she pauses to put on a pair of gloves. "And that is one nasty cut!" she says, looking under the sterile dressings; she winces, "How'd ya do that?"

As she sits down on a stool, he explains enthusiastically, "Well, I was at home, and I had just bought a bigger tank for my pet. I dropped the smaller one and the glass tank broke on the floor. I was trying to clean it up, but it cut me...so, now I'm here!"

"What kind of pet do ya have?" she asks, taking the dressings off and laying them on an instrument tray. "A tarantula!"

Her face contorts as she gets the mental image of it. "Ew, how do you stand those things?! Don't they creep you out?" she asks, the Southern lilt in her voice sneaking out with the nervousness.

"Oh, not at all! They're very tame, actually," Mr. Woods says euphorically, "in fact, they're so gentle that I brought it with me! I didn't want to leave him all alone!"

"What?!" Shepherd says blankly, looking up suddenly in a state of shock.

"Yeah, he's right here!" he says, getting the shoe box that sits beside him. "His name is Tony!"

"Tony, huh?!" Robin questions—her voice high-pitched and nervous. She stares at the box as he removes the lid to show it to them. She squirms in her seat. Catching a glimpse of the large spider, she jumps up, kicks the stool out into the hallway with her awkward movements and backs away.

Everyone at the admit desk chuckles.

Gallant moves over to her laughing, "You want me to take this one?"

She nods nervously, raking her fingers through her hair. She ambles back to Exam 1.

"Arachnophobia?" Mr. Woods asks.

Gallant laughs, "Bingo!"

-Part 2-

"Before You Leave"

Robin sleeps soundly once again in the dark exam room.

The door opens quietly, and closes. Susan quietly tiptoes over to her, smiling. She places a huge plastic spider on her stomach and puts a chart in her hand. Susan makes her way to the door, opens it and says to her, "Rob, you got another patient!" She walks out, laughing. She jogs over to the desk, where Abby, Luka, Gallant, Sam, and Jerry stand—waiting.

In Exam 1, Robin sighs and grips the chart in her hand. She lifts her head and spots the fake prop resting on her stomach. "Whoashh—!" she says to herself as she clumsily hops off the gurney, nearly falling on the floor. She backs up against the wall, messing up the blinds in the window.

Everyone outside laughs, trying to hold their laughter back. Their faces turn blood-red.

"I think she found it!" Abby laughs.

A sheet partially covers the plastic spider that has been tossed back onto the gurney in the commotion. Shepherd frantically searches for something to hit it with. She looks at the chart, "This should be good enough," she says and slowly moves toward the gurney—breathing heavily and visibly shaken by her phobia. She talks to it—thinking that it is real, "That's right! There ya go! Play hide-and-seek with me..." She raises the chart and brings it down, "okay, ya little piece a-crap" The force almost makes the gurney tip over. She catches it before it falls and sets it upright. She then notices the strange sound it made when she struck the spider with the clipboard and looks confused. She hits it again—this time with almost no enthusiasm at all. Then, she realizes that it is a joke, sighs and laughs at herself.

The pranksters wait for Robin to come out of the room. They try to hold back their laughter when they see the door open, and they pretend to be working.

"Have trouble sleeping?" Susan asks.

She smiles, reaching the desk, "Funny...very funny!"

They all giggle. "Sorry, we needed to pull a prank on someone," Luka grins.

Robin smiles as she puts the spider on the shelf under the desk to where she cannot see it, then asks, "So...my patient?"

"Suture room," Abby giggles.

Robin gives her a thumbs-up and ambles toward the suture room. Everybody laughs and smiles at each other.

Dr. Shepherd enters the room and grins at the woman sitting on the gurney, "Hi there, Ms. DeSalvo. I'm Dr. Shepherd. I hear ya got a cut on your arm."

DeSalvo—a woman in her early to mid-30s—looks down at her right forearm, laughs and says, "Yeah, I was working on my car that broke down a while ago down the block, and when I was checking the oil and everything, the hood of the car fell and cut my arm!"

"Gosh, I'm sorry to hear that," she says as she pulls a stool over and sits down. She inspects the wound and nods her head, "Well, you're gonna need stitches!" She pauses. "Are you allergic to any medications?" she asks, opening a suture kit that rests on an instrument tray beside her.

"Not that I'm aware of, no," Ms. DeSalvo tells her. She winces as Shepherd begins to irrigate the laceration.

Minutes later, Shepherd is finished stitching the woman's arm. She wraps a roll of sterile gauze around her arm and smiles, "Well, there ya go! All finished!"

"Alright then," DeSalvo says, "thank you, Dr. Shepherd! I hate to leave in such a rush, but I have an errand to run."

"You're welcome, and don't worry about it," she tells her, as the woman grabs her purse and coat. "Have a nice night!"

The woman's voice trails off into the hallway as she walks out, "Thank you! You, too!"

Time passes, and Robin emerges from the lounge with her heavy coat on and a scarf around her neck. "I'm off! See you guys tomorrow!"

"Hey, be careful! It's a full moon outside. Watch out for the freaks!" Susan shouts from the desk.

As Robin reaches the doors, she turns her head and smiles, "You guys be careful, too! But, don't worry about me! I'll be fine!"

"We'll try to," she smiles. "Night."

Robin walks through the doors, "Night."

-Part 3-

"Strike Down"

Emerging from the bathroom—after just giving herself a shot of insulin—Robin walks into the kitchen. She grabs a Diet Coke from inside the fridge and a large sub sandwich that sits on the counter, then makes her way into the living room.

She sits down on the couch with a sigh, putting her food on the coffee table. She picks up the remote and turns on the television. She waits a moment and adjusts the volume. Smiling as she watches an episode of "Late Night with Conan O' Brien", she opens the can of Coke.

Someone knocks on her door. She puts the can down and turns the television off. She ponders on whether to open the door or not—she is starving and the sandwich is practically calling her name at this point. She gives in and stands up. Jogging over to the door, she unlocks it and opens it.

Ms. DeSalvo greets her with a smile. "Dr. Shepherd, hi," she says, "I just stopped by to give you this!" In her arms, she carries a gift with green wrapping paper and a multi-colored bow tied around it.

"Ms. DeSalvo, you really don't have to do this for me. Really," Robin says, wondering how she knows where she lives and that she would be here at this hour.

"I won't take no for an answer," she says cheerfully. "You helped me so much today and I just wanted to thank you!"

Robin looks confused, "All I did was stitch up your arm."

"I know, but still," she replies. She points to the end table a few feet behind Robin, "Can I put this right over there?"

"Uh, sure. Go right ahead," Robin smiles, but still wonders. "Can I get you anything while you're here?"

"No, that's alright," DeSalvo says. Her tone becomes ominous, "You've done enough."

Robin turns toward the door. How the hell does she know that I live here? She puts her left hand above the doorknob as her right hand grasps it. She hears the noise of the wrapping paper rip loudly, the box open, and the tissue inside rustle. She closes the door momentarily to keep the cool air from the hall out. What the hell is she doin'? she thinks, still unaware of the woman's cruel intentions. Before she can turn her head, something rams into her upper side. She shuts her eyes. The sound is deafening to her—hearing her ribs snap with the force. She hears nothing else except that. The impact throws her into the wall beside her, causing her head to collide with it, as well. She slides down onto the floor fairly quickly. She holds her side, breathing heavily—her face contorting from the pain.

After a moment, she finally pushes herself over with her left hand; her back leaning against the wall. She sits with her legs sprawled out in front of her, and she starts to feel the warm, thick blood seep through her green scrub top and onto her hand. She brings it out in front of her face; she looks at her hand as if it belongs to someone else. It's so red. It's hers. The blood runs down her wrist and arm. And in this moment, she knows. Something's wrong. She opens her eyes to see DeSalvo standing above her holding something in her right hand, raised up behind her head. Then, she quickly brings it back down in a backhanded motion, striking Robin in the side of the head.

Robin slumps over onto the floor, unconscious now. As she lays motionless on the floor, the wound that stretches from her forehead to her cheek begins to bleed. It's a clean cut, but it bleeds as though it were an open wound. The blood slowly streaks down her face in many places—down her cheek and down her chin and neck; over her nose and down her other cheek; and across her forehead, over her eyelid, and down her other cheek. It drips onto the floor, forming a dark puddle.

A threatening, intense energy engulfs the atmosphere in Robin's dark apartment. The entire place is desolate. There is blood in the air. Nothing moves. Everything mute. Cold.

Robin loses precious time—time she will never get back. Will she see another day?

Her struggle is just beginning.

I hope you liked this story better than the last. Let me know what you think.