The New Doctor and the Star-Shaped Secret

THE NEW DOCTOR SMILED AT ME AND ASKED ABOUT MY SON’S SCAR

My hand shook as I signed the intake forms, the pen feeling strangely cold in my clammy grip.

He looked up from the glowing screen, his eyes a piercing blue I’d never seen before, like chips of arctic ice. The air in the consultation room was oddly still, carrying a faint, sterile scent of antiseptic and something sweet, like old flowers. He shuffled some papers, then paused, his gaze fixed on me.

“Mrs. Davies,” he began, his voice surprisingly soft, “your son’s medical history here mentions a distinct, star-shaped birthmark. It’s quite rare, isn’t it?” He tapped a pen against the file, the sound a dull click against the silence. “He got it from his father, right? A hereditary trait, I assume?” My throat tightened, a familiar panic starting to prickle at my skin.

The fluorescent lights overhead suddenly seemed too bright, casting harsh shadows that danced around the room. My vision blurred slightly, and I could feel a cold sweat break out on my forehead, despite the room being perfectly warm. My mind raced, searching for an answer, any answer that didn’t unravel everything.

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out, just a dry, rasping breath. Every nerve in my body screamed, urging me to run, to grab Leo and disappear. I could hear my own heartbeat thundering in my ears, a frantic drumbeat of terror. Just as he leaned forward, about to say more, a sharp knock echoed at the door.

The door creaked open slightly, and a nurse’s voice said, “Doctor Miller, your next patient is here.”

👇 Full story continued in the comments…The doctor, Miller, straightened, his piercing blue eyes momentarily flickering with something unreadable. A flicker of annoyance? Relief? It was gone too quickly to tell. He offered a tight smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that didn’t quite reach his gaze. “Yes, thank you, Nurse.” He turned back to me, the smile fixed now, but colder. “We can continue this conversation later, Mrs. Davies. It seems we’re out of time for now.”

He rose from his chair, his movements precise and deliberate. “I’ll just need a quick look at the scar.” He gestured towards the examination table, his hand still holding the pen, now seemingly an extension of himself.

My legs felt like lead as I stood. The room spun for a moment, and I had to grip the edge of the table to steady myself. The air was thick, suffocating. I walked slowly toward the table, my gaze fixed on the floor, afraid to meet his eyes again.

He was behind me now, so close. I could feel his presence, a silent, almost predatory hum in the air. He reached out, his hand brushing my arm as he leaned closer, and the room plunged back into ice. “Show me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible above the roaring in my ears.

He took my son to the examination table, then had me lift his shirt, and there it was, a strange scar, no star shape, but a circle, then more of it. As I was looking at it, Dr. Miller started to have a seizure. “What is happening to me?” He fell over, hitting his head on the desk.

The nurse came rushing in. “Doctor! What is going on?”

I rushed to my son, grabbing his hand, then turning to the nurse, “I have to go, I think he’s having a seizure.”

The nurse stopped me before leaving, “What is that on your son’s scar?”

I looked at my son’s skin, looking at the circular scar. I couldn’t move. The nurse then asked the Doctor, “Did you know about this?”

Miller, on the floor, tried to speak but couldn’t.

I ran out of the hospital, took my son, and ran as fast as I could. I called my husband, explaining everything that just happened. He told me to go to his friend’s house and stay there. When I was in the house, I watched the news to see what had happened to Dr. Miller. He had died.

My husband came to me and my son, as we were safe and protected. I told my husband everything. He told me that Leo had a bad past life and that we needed to move forward and not look back. I had to agree with him. After a couple of days, we packed everything and left.

I still wonder who that doctor was and what he wanted, and what the meaning of the circular scar was.