Explore Anesthesia

A happier, more positive, and longer anesthesia story! This probably should be multiple chapters but deviantart handles that poorly, so here's all 9000 words. Lately, I've been writing incredibly slowly and generally the result has been dark medical horror or horror-adjacent. Not this one! Don't get me wrong, this is still a very similar story to what I tend to write and you should expect some danger and risk, but I promise this is a much more optimistic outcome all around . Let's be honest, the protagonist here is a bit of an author-insert, because what do you expect from this sort of sleepy story? But I've made sure to keep the first-person narrator an ambiguous gender, as I've had more than a few requests for that. Easily done. Fill in the blanks yourself. Lastly, I've added a number of details that might make this seems a bit more authentic than several of the other things I've written. So, let's just make sure we're all on the same page: as always, this is fiction. Other than

This is a story I wrote several years ago, but could never quite finish. I've revised it, changed it, changed the characters, changed the outcome, and never really liked it enough to post. I've had "writers block" for a while, but recent posts by a few other writers got me inspired enough to finish this off. I'm working on a few other things, but this one finished first (because it was already almost done). Fair warning, being so old, it's not the best writing I've ever done, and not the cleverest scenario. Also, be warned that it's fairly dark, as all my writing from around 2020 was.... Alex nervously paced back and forth in the deserted lobby of the Morana Institute for Medicine. It was nominally his first day at work, although he still didn’t know exactly what he’d be doing. He’d been hired after an online interview, for some sort of administrative position, but exactly what he’d be responsible for had been rather vague. The recruiter had said he was to receive an

Well, I think I have to start all these stories hedging; I didn’t edit this enough, I don’t like it very much, it’s rough, etc. All that applies here. This wasn’t something I was working on long term, it’s just something that came together when I was stuck somewhere with writing time. I was trying to write a sequel to “The Most Dangerous Games,” and while this is set in the same place with the same antagonist, it’s really just yet another anesthesia horror story. If you like that, maybe you’ll like this. As usual recently, it’s fairly dark; you have been warned. James Morton took pride in discovering lies. The key was numbers. No matter what people said, no matter their words, James could always rely on numbers to give a clear account of the truth. This was the basis of his entire career as a financial auditor. Sometimes, though, getting to his discovery would take just a little too long… A short plane ride brought James (and his skill with numbers) to the driveway of Kelly's

As I finished fixing the computer, the receptionist kept starring at me. “Doctor Hannah has your payment,” she said, as the repaired machine beeped as it came to life. “She’s down the hall in the surgery room,” she pointed. I sighed. The buzzing sound of a drill emanated from an exam room as I headed down the hallway. I tried not to shudder. I avoided going to dentists as much as I could, but they paid well for my services. I found the dentist in a room marked “OPR 1”. Dr. Hannah was a tall woman, blond with severe features. Black scrubs and a white lab coat marked her as my client, the dentist at this office. She was connecting clear tubes to a white, boxy machine and looked up as I entered. “I’m finished; you’re back online,” I told her, gesturing at a nearby monitor that now displayed appointments again. I tried not to look around the room too much; this was the sort of place that I hated. The room was filled with medical screens, machines, tubes and wires, none of which I

This is a story I wrote in a single sitting, while stuck in an airport. Every time there was a flight delay, well, you'll probably see. It's even rougher than usual and drags a bit. I really considered editing it, to make it less repetitive and to fine-tune the tension and horror elements. But then I thought: nah. I don't usually post content warnings, but this is a bit darker and a tiny bit more explicit than usual. You have been warned. The Mechanical Doctor - A Dark Medfet Story “And the robotic medicine project you’ll be working on is in here,” the professor led Alex through a door, into a small laboratory. “We call the system Nightingale, after the famous nurse.” In the center of the lab was a long cylinder, resting on its side, made from bits of metal and frosted glass. The “top” of the cylinder was an open door, a hatch, big enough for a person to lie down inside. Alex thought it looked like a space pod. A small control console was connected to one end. “This sort of

This story has been kicking around my in-progress pile for some time, not quite solidifying. Today, I got it done. Originally, it was intended to feature a physician protagonist, who would know exactly what was happening to them. I kept the protagonist but the story itself turned out very, very differently. This is partially inspired by all the hypnosis art out there, and asks... how would that actually work? As usual, no editing has been done so, while mistakes are my fault, I take no responsibility. When Dr. Jack Smith saw that a hypnotherapy clinic had opened across the street from his medical practice, he knew it was only a matter of time before he was compelled to confront them. “It’s pseudoscience!”, he ranted to his office manger. “Hypnosis isn’t real. It’s all just a waste of money and time. And look at this arrogance! They’re doing it with a veneer of medical science!” When an advertisement for the new clinic came to his attention, his scorn only got deeper. The

The waiting room of the Center for Interventive Health is quiet as you finish filling out the consent-forms. The building was big, but the waiting room was small, just a few chairs, some tables with magazines, you, and a receptionist at a desk behind glass. It smelled like all dental offices smelled, and you can feel the knot in your chest getting bigger as you become more and more nervous. It's just am exam, a little cleaning, you tell yourself. It's been years since you've had the courage to see a dentist, and you've not had great habits; you can't put it off any longer. Plus you'll be getting laughing gas, so it'll be fine, right? Have you eaten or drank anything in the last 12 hours? No. Do you consent to sedation? Yes. The questions get check-marks as you go through them quickly. There always seems to be another page, and the last few you don't even read. Finishing the forms, you gather your courage, stand up, and bring the clipboard back to the receptionist. "Have a seat, and

I never write Part 2s. Usually, when I'm done with a story, I'm just done. When I try to go back, it's just not good, has nothing new to say, and isn't interesting. Sometimes I don't even read a story end-to-end after I finish writing it. But today I finished a Part 2. It's a sequel to Tricked in The Medical Spa, and probably better if you've read that one first. But you don't really have to. I write short anesthesia stories not high literature. My eyes fluttered open, my head throbbing with pain. It felt like I’d lost a fight. Maybe I’d had a long conversation with a sledgehammer, where the sledgehammer’s opinion had come out on top. I was lying in a bed, at least, not face down in some alley. Clean. Dry. Could be worse. The room was stark white, illuminated by harsh fluorescent lights. They made my head ache even more. I groaned and closed my eyes again. I tried to piece together the events of the previous night, but my memories were foggy and muddled like a hazy riverbank. I