April 26, 2016
Chloe sat in Dr. McCoy's office, shifting uncomfortably from one side of the chair to the other, anticipating what news the doctor might share with her after she received a call from the clinic asking her to come visit personally with the doctor. Chloe nervously crossed her legs, uncrossed them, fidgeted with her hair and flipped through an outdated magazine with the mailing label cut off, wondering how a doctor could be late when the waiting had appeared empty.
The doctor's personal office was completely silent as Chloe thumbed through the magazine, looking an outdated article about the latest celebrity power couple breakup. The air around her lingered with the faint hint of some potpourri candle that smelled more than a dusty furnace than any pleasant scent Chloe could identify. She grew frustrated with each passing moment as the magazine pages stuck together, refusing to pull apart when she tried to turn the page to see whether or not a famous royal European couple were expecting their fourth child.
Dealing with a case of dry-mouth caused by nervous impatience, Chloe decided a cool breath mint was the solution. The sweet coolness on her tongue gave her the much-needed relief of the dry, sandpaper feeling in her throat. Annoyed, she looked at her cell phone, rolling her eyes when she realized she'd been sitting alone in the office for the longest twenty minutes of her life.
The door opened and Dr. McCoy entered. A tall, statuesque woman in her mid-fifties with long black hair swept neatly into a chignon and designer glasses hanging from a decorative chain around her neck, she appeared more a caring aunt whom Chloe had known for years rather than a white-coated medical professional who didn't know Chloe from a tongue depressor.
"Chloe, thank you for coming on such short notice," Dr. McCoy sat down at her desk with a file in hand. "I wanted to discuss personally the results of some of your lab work."
Chloe managed to swallow, feeling the new breath mint feel like a boulder as it slide down her throat in one gulp. 'Oh, shit. She going to tell me I cervical or uterine cancer."
"Chloe Jane Decker," Dr. McCoy used the Detective's full name with a tone that made Chloe feel as though she was being lectured by her mother after beating up the neighborhood bully. "I have known you since you were seven. I know you take excellent care of yourself: vegan, yoga and Pilates and you love your coffee."
"Yes, Doctor," Chloe answered slowly. "There is a 'but' in there somewhere, isn't there?"
"Yes," Dr. McCoy confirmed putting on her cardinal red designer frames, sliding them up the bridge of her nose. Tapping her pen against her desk, she opened the file. "I ordered your tonsils removed when you were twelve. I know you had an appendectomy when you were 23, a gunshot wound on your left shoulder from last February and your blood type is O positive or was."
"What's wrong, Doctor?" Chloe asked, trying not to sigh in frustration from the suspense of what the doctor had yet revealed. "What's wrong with me?"
"Nothing, Chloe." Dr. McCoy said quietly. "I checked your throat the other day as part of your regular physical. The scar on your left shoulder caused by the gunshot wound is gone, you've regrown your tonsils and per your x-rays from your gunshot wound, you've regrown your appendix. Also inexplicable: your blood type has changed from O Positive, the most common blood type, to AB negative; the rarest one."
"Is that due to cancer or a health condition?" Chloe scooted up to the edge of her seat.
"Neither, young lady," Dr. McCoy replied, staring hard at Chloe over the rims of her designer red spectacles. One manicured red nail adjusted them, then she steepled her hands just beneath her chin. "Your body has regenerated so that your scars are gone, removed body parts have regenerated and I wouldn't be half-surprised if you your appendix has grown back. In other words, Chloe, you're in the peak of health and I don't know how it's happened."
Chloe sat stoically in the nondescript business chair, nodding once in understanding. She hadn't thought much of it and she didn't have evidence, but in her gut, she knew the answer. Now, she wanted proof.
"So, what's your prognosis?" Chloe kept her voice steady and neutral, despite trembling to the core of her soul.
"There is no plausible scientific reason to explain these changes. The last blood draw my nurse took from you in February was in late November 2015 and your blood was O positive. Something happened between November and February and it changed."
"Hmm," her non-committal answered barely kept her questions in check.
"Your blood is like that a child, Chloe. There are no antibodies, pollutants or free-radicals. It's as if you were born yesterday."
"Sometimes, I feel that way," she blinked several times trying to absorb the incredible information revealed by Dr. McCoy.
"You told me once in one of your post-surgical checkups that you started having odd dreams after your NDE and when you came out of your three-day coma. You told me that you felt as though you had come back as a different person, changed somehow," Dr. McCoy took off her glasses to truly look at Chloe. "This isn't the first time that I've heard of things like this happening and I don't discount it."
"What do you mean?"
"I think you experienced an NDE, a near-death experience, and that you somehow changed at the molecular level," Dr. McCoy tapped her red lips in contemplation. "There's not much scientific study behind it, but I think there may be something to it in your case because you're the third person in my 30 years of practice in which I've seen this happen. The second one was your mother, Penelope, shortly before she became pregnant with you when she had that accident on that movie…" Dr. McCoy impatiently snapped her fingers, tapping her temple. "I know the name of it, I've seen it a dozen times."
"Night of the Apocalyptic Zombies?" Chloe mused with a slight smirk.
"That's it!" Dr. McCoy grinned. "That movie was always a favorite."
After their mutual laughter died, the room filled with a heavy awkwardness. Chloe loudly cleared her throat, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. "Doctor, I know you're spiritual and you believe in the supernatural."
"I would be a good Catholic if I didn't, Chloe."
"Do you believe in the Devil?" Chloe asked in a small voice.
"Yes."
"Do you believe he's evil?"
"Absolutely."
"Can he take on physical form and bleed like a human?" Chloe used her courage to put forth the question that she'd been thinking about for months.
"The Devil can do many things, but I'm the wrong person to ask, Dear. I'm a doctor, not a priest." Leanne McCoy pushed the fashionable red frames up the bridge of her nose. Leanne smoothed her black pencil skirt and the heals of her red patent pumps clicked across the wood laminate floor of her office. Sitting down behind her desk, she opened the middle drawer and handed Chloe a business card face down. "If you want questions about that sort of thing in this day and age, you'll need to have an angel on your shoulder."
"I may have one," she said, thinking of Lucifer. Chloe recalled how her close brush with death in late January, she'd noticed that she had been different. She had discount the strange dreams and the constant craving for figs. She'd noticed that her senses had improved, agility and marksmanship had improved shortly after being shot. Chloe noted her relationship with Lucifer had also changed where she understood him without him having to speak a word. He brought in her traits and feeling she didn't think she possessed or had lost through loss of naivety after being on the force for several years. The rapport they had developed had remained unspoken and unnoticed for the past several months. He inspired an emotional vulnerability that she though had been long-lost, but she was fine with it, because Lucifer always had her back.
Chloe had seen what had happened that night in Mid-February when she'd shot him because the prick had egged her on to do until she gave into the temptation and fired her weapon. His charms seemed to work on her more so, she noticed, when she was experiencing intense emotion, whether it be anger or anguish; it didn't matter. Only when she was in complete control of emotions and had her defenses in check did she find herself able to withstand Lucifer's persuasive abilities. The answer lied within on person: Lucifer Morningstar.
"Doctor, I know you've always had a side fascination for the paranormal and the unexplained," Chloe started. "That's how you and Mom became friends. What if I told you that I think I may know the answer to this?"
"You know how this happened to you?" The Doctor leaned forward with keen interest. "Go on."
"Not a what, but a who," Chloe thought it better not to reveal too much to her old family friend. "What if I told you that my partner thinks he's the Devil?"
"What?" Dr. McCoy abruptly straightens, blinking several times without speaking. "What is he like? Does he have red hair, green eyes, an extra vertebrae?"
"No," Chloe laughed. "He's actually tall, dark and handsome with an English accent. He's a cross between James Bond and Sherlock Holmes."
"Any proof?"
"Well," Chloe paused, "I've seen things that I can't explain. I mean, Doc, I've seen Lucifer throw a man halfway across a room through a tempered glass window. I've seen his eyes glow bright red a few times and I always chucked it up to just being a trick of the light. He moves faster than anyone I've seen and he just has this way of getting people to tell the truth."
Silence fell between them.
"Do you think I'm crazy or have am I short a bullet in my gun?"
"No," Leanne slowly shook her head, "but I wouldn't be broadcasting this to the world if I were you. Dark, penciled brows arched behind red eyeglass frames. "Fascinating. I wonder, could you possibly get me a DNA or blood sample?"
"I can try, but it's not like he's going to open his mouth and things come out, but he won't hold still long enough to let me swab it. But, if I asked, I bet he'd come here to volunteer to give you any sample you needed," Chloe chucked. "Then, he'd try to sleep with you."
"A blood sample would be ideal; bodily fluids are unnecessary," Dr. McCoy chuckled. "If you can get me that, I may be able to answer your questions."
"I think I'm going crazy, Doc," Chloe admitted, shrugging helplessly. "Your conspiracy theories are actually starting to sound possible."
"Get me a blood sample and we'll find out," Dr. McCoy replied. "I've always had a fascination for this sort of thing, but if such things exist, then the people who know about them cover their tracks very well."
"So, what about UFOs, the Illuminati and Sasquatch?"
"One conspiracy theory at a time, Chloe." Dr. McCoy laughed. "Get me a sample of something I can stick under a microscope and then we'll talk."
Easier said than done, but I'll see what I can do," Chloe promised.