The Doctor's Poltergeist Prescription: The Haunting of Dr. Chen's Clinic

The rain was relentless as Dr. Chen stepped out of his car, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and the eerie hum of the night. His clinic, nestled in the quiet suburban town of Maplewood, was a modest two-story building with a small, flickering neon sign that read "Dr. Chen's Clinic." It was the kind of place that had seen better days, but to Dr. Chen, it was a sanctuary—a place where hope and healing could flourish despite the world's darkness.

Inside, the clinic was a labyrinth of dimly lit corridors and shadowy corners. The reception desk was cluttered with magazines that were decades out of date, and the waiting room was filled with the scent of old carpet and the sound of a single, tired clock ticking. Dr. Chen's office was the only light in the building, a beacon of calm in the midst of chaos.

That night, as he sat at his desk, the phone rang. It was a voice, cold and distant, with a hint of an accent that Dr. Chen couldn't place. "Dr. Chen, I need your help," the voice said, its tone tinged with desperation. "I've been seeing things, hearing voices. I need you to prescribe something."

Dr. Chen's heart raced. He had been a doctor for over twenty years, but nothing like this. "Where are you?" he asked, his voice steady despite the fear that was beginning to creep into his mind.

"The clinic," the voice replied. "I'm here."

Dr. Chen sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. He had no idea who was on the other end of the line, but the desperation in their voice was undeniable. "Alright," he said, opening his medical bag. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Poltergeist," the voice said. "It's haunting me."

Dr. Chen's eyes widened. Poltergeist? He had heard of such things in his years of practice, but he had never treated a patient for a haunting. "I've never dealt with something like this before," he said, his voice trembling slightly.

"Then I suggest you start," the voice said. "I've sent you a prescription. It should help."

The voice hung up before Dr. Chen could respond, and he found a sealed envelope on his desk. Inside was a prescription with strange symbols and cryptic instructions. He took a deep breath and began to read.

The prescription was unlike anything he had ever seen. It was written in an ancient language, with symbols that seemed to dance and twist in the light. It spoke of herbs and rituals, of ancient curses and forbidden knowledge. It was as if it had been plucked from a different world, one that Dr. Chen had never known existed.

He began to follow the instructions, preparing the herbs and performing the rituals. The air in the clinic grew thick with the scent of smoke and the sound of chanting. Dr. Chen felt a strange sensation, as if the walls were closing in around him, suffocating him.

The next morning, the clinic was filled with a strange energy. The patients who had been scheduled for appointments arrived early, their faces filled with a mix of fear and curiosity. Dr. Chen greeted them with a smile, trying to hide the terror that was beginning to consume him.

As the day progressed, strange things began to happen. The phones rang, but no one was on the other end. The lights flickered, and the air grew colder. Dr. Chen's patients whispered to each other, their eyes wide with fear.

By the end of the day, Dr. Chen was exhausted. He had spent the entire day treating patients, but none of them seemed to be getting better. Instead, they were growing more and more agitated, their whispers turning into shouts.

That night, as he sat in his office, the phone rang again. It was the same voice, the one that had called him earlier. "Dr. Chen," the voice said, "it's not working. The poltergeist is stronger than I thought."

Dr. Chen's heart pounded in his chest. "What do I do?" he asked, his voice trembling.

"Leave," the voice replied. "The prescription is a trap. The poltergeist wants you to stay. It wants to consume you."

Dr. Chen hung up the phone and looked around his office. The walls were closing in, the air was thick with smoke, and the voices were louder than ever. He had to leave. He had to get out of there.

He opened the door and stepped outside, the cold air hitting him like a wall. The clinic was gone. In its place was a field of tall grass, the sound of crickets filling the air. He had escaped the poltergeist, but he knew that it was only the beginning.

Dr. Chen walked through the field, his mind racing. The prescription had been a trap, a means for the poltergeist to lure him in. He had been so focused on the cure that he hadn't realized the true danger. Now, he was on the run, trying to escape a force that he had never known existed.

As he walked, he looked back at the field. The clinic was still there, still haunted by the poltergeist. He had to do something. He had to find a way to stop it.

Dr. Chen continued to walk, the night growing colder with each passing minute. He had no idea where he was going, but he knew that he had to keep moving. The poltergeist was still out there, waiting, watching.

The Haunting of Dr. Chen's Clinic was just the beginning. The poltergeist was real, and it was coming for him. And he had no idea how to stop it.