TSF Series #002: Doctor Decagon – Deep Diver

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From mingling the paramedic fetus of the East and some nurse-themed erotic comic book… also of the East.

Content Warning: TSF Series #002: Doctor Decagon – Deep Diver contains content that some readers might find disturbing, triggering or uncomfortable. This includes sexually explicit activities, rape, strong language, and death. Reader discretion is advised.

Notice: This installment of TSF Series was originally released on 7/26/2019 and has since been re-edited. Typographical errors and grammatical mistakes have been corrected, certain sections have been rewritten, and minor aspects of the story have been altered.


The inspiration behind this second entry of TSF Series, my series of TSF short stories, was devised by mashing two completely unrelated things together. The first and primary source of inspiration for this story is the 1996 album Dr. Octagonecologyst, which I discovered in early 2019. I took a liking to it and the homicidal time travelling Jovian gynecologist protagonist referenced throughout the album.

The second source is the hentai comic Absolutely Painless Dentist by Taniguchi-san, which involves a dentist’s office where patients switch bodies with a nurse while the nurse undergoes a dental procedure in the patient’s body, and the patient in nurse’s body gets to have kinky lesbian sex, because hentai. As for why I did this… I dunno. My mind is an enigma even to me, Natalie Neumann the Electric Nigma, and I just come up with weird concepts for the sake of it sometimes.

Since this work’s original publication on July 26th, 2019, it has been revised heavily. Typographical errors and grammatical mistakes have been corrected, certain sections have been rewritten for greater cohesiveness, minor aspects of the story have been altered, and the title of this story has been changed.

TSF Series #002: Doctor Decagon – Deep Diver

“It’ll be fine. Just sit back, let it happen, and don’t cause a fuss,” I said to myself as I went through my breathing exercises, only to be interrupted with the sound of my own name.

“Vita Velasquez!”

I immediately shot up from the well worn waiting room chair and made my way to the main office, where one of the bustling nurses started waving at me, urging me to scoot through the cramped hallway to exam room number 3. Once inside, I turned to get a better look at my escort. She was an Asian woman, probably just 160 centimeters tall or so, with dark hair that brushed past her shoulders, a slender build that was draped in ill-fitting scrubs, and a cute youthful face that stared at me intently, as if she were examining me from under a microscope. I honestly couldn’t guess how old she is, being a fairer skinned Asian woman and all that, but she carried herself as if she had been doing this job for several years.

“Alright Miss Velasquez, since it is your first time seeing Doctor Decagon I’m going to have to ask you to verify some information on your chart,” the nurse said while looking down at a clipboard.

“I, um, alright,” I stammered, still unnerved about this whole situation.

“First off, what was your date of birth?”

“April 14th, 1988. I just turned 21 last month,” I quickly barked back, adding on my age preemptively.

“And what would you say your height and weight are?”

“I’m 190 centimeters, and last I checked I weigh 66 kilograms.”

“Cool, everything’s in line so far… and when was your last pelvic exam?”

“I think it was in January of 2008.”

“Hm, you’re young, so you aren’t at risk for a lot of things, but you really should try to make these appointments every 12 months going forward.”

“Sorry, it’s just that my parents changed jobs, my old gynecologist wouldn’t accept my new insurance and—”

“It’s okay. You don’t need to defend yourself in front of me, dear. Now, do you smoke, drink alcohol, or use any recreational drugs?”

“I drink occasionally— maybe twice a month. But never much.”

“Gotcha. Last question! Are you sexually active?”

“I, um, no, I’m not,” I murmured, hoping that I wouldn’t need to repeat myself.

“Understood. Everything checks out on the transferred charts. Doctor Decagon should be here in a few minutes,” the nurse commented while opening up a cabinet and pulling out a disposable hospital gown.

“Please change into this. No shoes, no socks, no underwear, and wait on the table here. The doctor is running a bit late today, so it will probably be… a while before he comes in. Do you need anything while you wait?”

“No, I’m good. Just give me a couple of minutes to change,” I said as I looked over the cold and flimsy garment laying on the exam room table.

After the nurse left and offered me some privacy, I let out a deep sigh as I began looking over my person and gingerly taking off my clothes, exposing my person to the crisp and chilled office air, with my only protection being a flimsy plastic feeling garment meant to do little more than obfuscate one’s private parts. I did as I was asked and planted my butt on the table, casually kicking my legs front and back while glancing over the rather plain medical exam room, staring at the light blue walls and the chipping paint adorning the radiators. 

I also noticed a small mirror placed near the sink, one that I briefly looked at, revealing that I really should have taken some time to fix my hair, which had become frizzy as the day went on, and that hospital gowns truly are the least flattering thing a person can wear. Plus, the color really didn’t work with my darker complexion. Then again, hospital gowns don’t really look good on anybody, regardless of their race.

Having not brought anything to read, work on, or look over, and not wanting to awkwardly slip out into the waiting room to grab some random magazine, I was at a loss for things to do. The only possible activity I could think of to entertain myself was exploring the contents of the cabinets, but that would probably just make me look like a weirdo in front of the doctor if he were to barge in. 

So instead I started at the clock and tried immersing myself in my own thoughts, drifting away from this uneventful segment of my life and towards the subject matter of school. My sophomore year just ended last week, and while I was still waiting on my grades, I was pretty happy with my performance so far, and had little reason to doubt that the next two years would be particularly troublesome, even if they do represent a shift from regular gen-ed classes to more specialized business courses.

As I started telling myself that I should register for fall classes sooner than later, my mind drifted once more to a more relevant matter at hand, my pelvic exam. Having a doctor scrape my vagina with a piece of metal and then shove their fingers up there was not my idea of a good time, nor do I think there are any women who actually enjoy this process. Well, sane women that is. There are always wackos who find this sort of thing kinky. 

Then again, I’m a weirdo but in the opposite direction, I suppose, since I generally don’t like anything to be shoved in my vagina. Fingers, toys, any kind of product. It all just felt weird. I don’t think it’s ‘genital dysphoria’ or whatever, I generally just let it do its thing and go about my day. But I cannot simply ignore it all the time and need to go meet with a doctor regularly to see if anything is out of whack with my body, because sometimes things go wrong for no real reason.

As my meandering pontifications continued and I began casually counting the floor tiles in this room, the exam room door swung open, revealing my gynecologist, Doctor David Decagon. I looked him up online before this, finding a couple of reviews praising his work, and seeing that his office was just a 12 minute drive away, but I did little research beyond that, let alone find a photo of him. So I guess I only have myself to blame, because I was now looking at a 2-meter-tall, balding man in his 60s with skin I would call fair if it didn’t look so coarse, and a very large build, looking to be at least 110 kilograms. 

“Good afternoon miss Velasquez, how are you this fine day?” The Doctor said in a booming voice that demanded attention.

“I’m doing fine, I guess,” I said, while nervously shuffling on the table.

“Good, good. Now, I hate bringing this up while you’re in the exam room, but we here are always looking out for our patients’ well-being, and making their experience here as pleasant as possible, looking into the most reliable, modern, and comforting techniques, and offering the most advanced services possible. We are currently undergoing a trial run for a new procedure meant to offer more thorough examinations for all patients, one that allows a doctor to fully understand their patient’s bodies, their health, and their needs. 

“It is an innovative procedure that could, and has in many instances, saved lives and allowed us to identify conditions and ailments early. It is a process known as Deep Dive Diagnosis, involves a machine assisted examination of your body, and due to the experimental nature of the procedure, all associated fees will be waived if you agree to it.”

I was left with my mouth open, ready to speak, but still processing everything Dr. Decagon just told me. I honestly had no idea what he was proposing, but seeing as how he was a doctor, I assumed he was looking out for my best interest.

“I guess I can try it, if you think it’s a good idea,” I said in a hushed tone. “But I can’t say I’ve ever heard of anything like this…”

“It has yet to enter the mainstream news cycle, nor has the medical field widely adopted it. However, I have done this procedure several times in the past and will attest to its effectiveness. But if you’re not comfortable with it, then we can do things the old-fashioned way.”

“I… In that case, sure. I’ll give this Deep Dive thing a whirl.”

“Splendid! Now then, let’s head to another exam room. You can leave your clothes and belongings here for now.”

With that, Dr. Decagon began escorting me through this rather small doctor’s office, which had grown vacant during the half-hour I spent waiting, into a back room that looked to be yet another exam room, one lacking any suspiciously advanced looking equipment. I don’t know what I was expecting, maybe something like an MRI machine, but I did not see the ‘machine’ that would assist the doctor with this procedure. Regardless, upon entering the room the Doctor shouted for somebody by the name of Nina, inspiring the Asian nurse I met with earlier to come bustling through the door, smiling as she locked eyes with me.

“Alright Miss Velasquez, before the doctor can perform the Deep Dive Diagnosis, we’re going to need to take a blood sample. The procedure can do a lot, but blood tests aren’t going to become obsolete anytime soon. Please, seat yourself in that chair in the corner and I’ll get things ready.”

Obeying orders like a good patient ought to, I sat in a hard chair while a nurse injected a needle into my left arm. I simply looked away and tried to ignore the sensation, but then everything around me became hazed. It was a hot day, and I admittedly wasn’t the best at keeping myself hydrated, so I figured I was just a bit woozy from blood loss. But then everything just… stopped, as if I was given anesthesia prior to an intensive surgery.

With my consciousness lost, I could not question what had happened, why it happened, or if I was in any danger until I felt my senses once more. I awoke in a groggy state, a feeling of numbness still permeating throughout my being as I moved myself, and what I felt was… wrong. Starting from the top, I could feel a foreign coolness on my scalp. My face felt heavier, thicker, as if I was wearing a sheet of special effects makeup. And the interior of my mouth, the arrangement of my teeth, differed slightly as I lapped saliva across my dry palate.

I attempted to raise my hands to better examine my head, but I was met with a resistance adorning my wrists that kept me bound to a chair. As my arm recoiled from this motion, I realized that everything that could be wrong beneath my neck… was wrong. I was fully clothed instead of being in a hospital gown, with well-fitted fabrics that encompassed a body that felt a lot… bigger than what I was used to, from my fingers to my legs. It, again, felt as if there was a lot more bodily mass covering my person than I was ever used to, almost as if I had suddenly gained an extreme amount of weight. As my concern and curiosity raged, I looked down at my person and reflexively gasped at what I witnessed. 

A grey coat, dark pants, and an unmistakably male body. I was not myself. I did not consciously realize it at the moment, but I was in his body. I was in Dr. Decagon’s body. Panic was my reaction to this revelation. A deluge of concerns, worries, and questions assaulted my mind as I began breathing rapidly, a misappropriated coping exercise that only made me more anxious before my attention was diverted by a somewhat familiar voice.

“So you’re finally awake, ain’tcha? ‘Bout time. I was thinking you bit the dust before we even gotta lay it down for ya.”

The speaker was none other than the nurse I met earlier, Nina, who was leaning against a wall with one leg up as she took in my panicked expressions. I attempted to use the doctor’s booming voice to my advantage and demand remedies for my precarious predicament, but I could barely even make a whimpering noise.

“Yo babe! We got a dead bitch blinking. Quit fondling yourself up and give her the gist,” Nina shouted, hitting the wooden door beside her with a firm slap.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” a muffled voice said from another room as they drew closer to the door, opening it to reveal their identity. 

I could not process what I was looking at, seeing my body, my real body, still dressed in a hospital gown, moving on its own. At first, I questioned if they simply bore an uncanny resemblance to myself, but I quickly discarded that theory and forced myself to accept the implausible sounding, yet more likely, scenario that the person I was looking at was none other than Dr. Decagon. That he stole my body and left me in his, likely having his assistant and partner in crime, Nina, bind me while some absurd procedure took place. 

I briefly wondered if there was a good explanation here if this was part of the Deep Dive Diagnosis thing. Because I sure as shit didn’t sign a waiver saying that this fucklo could go prancing around in my body like this! Yet prance around they did, smiling as they walked towards me in an exaggeratedly feminine manner. 

“Seeing as how you’ve awoken prematurely, indicating that Nina needs to freshen up on her anesthesiology, I suppose that I’ll need to save my discovery for later, and answer your burning questions now. First, yes, I switched our bodies through a little procedure my associate—”

“—Bitch! I’ve known you for 260 years and that’s all I am to you?” Nina interjected, still leaning against the wall.

“…My partner and I have been practicing, as they so rudely interjected, for centuries, allowing us to pursue immortality and retain a comfortable existence. All for the low low cost of killing our old bodies. It’s an intentional side effect meant to allow us to continue operating without leaving a lineage of evidence in our wake.”

“—Basically, you’re going to die in 30 minutes. An hour tops.”

“Indeed. Your existence as a conscious entity shall end, but do not worry, the life you lead shall continue. All your experiences, memories, and everything that makes Vita Velasquez herself still remains with your original body— it remains with me— and I do not intend on throwing it all away… just some of it, such as your intended business career, as I am a medical practitioner, and rather enjoy the process, perks, and proceeds that come with practicing medicine.”

“Same here. Nina No was going to be a teacher before I took over her life. Not that it really matters to you. ‘Specially with the clock ticking away and shit.”

“Yes, I would say treasure what little time you have left, but you’re not really in a position to do so. Your vocal cords should already be shot, your other senses will begin fading in time, and I certainly won’t be letting you out of that chair. Oh, but do not worry, I shall make sure that the last thing you see in your existence is something of beauty.”

Unable to utter a syllable from my new mouth, I instead questioned what I ever did to deserve this. Why I was chosen out of all of this doctor’s patients, whether they were completely full of shit and everything they told me was a lie, or if this was all the most preposterously fucked dream anybody’s ever had without downing a fistful of narcotics. Such feverish introspection was cut short by the body thief in front of me, the one wearing my face, as they took a few steps away from me, grasped the back of the gown I was wearing before all this, and presented my naked body before me, looking down at it with unambiguous lust before they dropped to the floor and caressed my stolen form.

He danced my hands across my body with comfort and familiarity that left me in a state of disbelief. A sickness began permeating throughout my mind as I watched Decagon manipulate my body as if it were his own, moving from my face, breasts, stomach, and eventually vagina, all while utilizing my vocal cords to reach cadences I could never come close to. 

“Oh, Vita, where did this sexual reluctance of yours come from? This certainly is far from the finest body I’ve had the pleasure of being in, but trust me when I say this is leagues better than some people. Yet here you were, already in your twenties, and still terrified of a little penetration. Oh well, I suppose I’ll just need to do it myself. Nina! Fetch me some tools!”

“Already got ‘em,” Nina said as she lobbed a bag full of what looked to be medical dildos at Dr. Decagon.

Following a reflexive thank you, Decagon dug through the bag, which was labeled ‘extra stents,’ and pulled out a large purple one. I recoiled as I saw this decrepit man defile my person in front of me, looking away as he began manipulating my voice in order to express his apparent pleasure. I wanted to do nothing more than to rip away the confinements adorning the body I had been placed in and stop them from abusing me, even if it meant I would need to permanently disable my body. Anything to end this living nightmare to end and restore the reality of my 21 years of existence. I darkened my vision to ease these frustrations, but that only lasted a matter of seconds.

“Fuck nugget, we ain’t putting on a show for you just so you can get look away. This is the last thing you’re ever going to see in your short, sad life, so eyes open!”

As Nina shouted at me, I felt her fingers against the face I had been given, opening up its eyelids while using her arms to lock my field of vision to that of my true body, all while Dr. Decagon continued their erotically charged dive into my privates. 

“So, it appears your hymen has yet to be broken,” Decagon said between moans. “Which is a misnomer, mind you. They simply stretch rather than break, and yours is stretching marvelously. And here I was worried that things would get bloody. It seems as if I truly lucked out in snagging your body, wouldn’t you say?”

My attempts at shouting were met with failure, yet making the motions did free me of some frustration. My rage and fury at Decagon and this situation were positively suffocating me at the moment, sending the heart of Dr. Decagon racing as I looked at this perverse sight. However, for all my animosity, I felt something… more. Something unfounded and strange, coming from the… privates of Dr. Decagon.

“What in the fuck is wrong with me?” I asked myself as I began feeling something that almost every teenage boy becomes enamored with, the sensation of a fleshy appendage hardening and elongating itself within one’s pants. 

“Hey, hey! Eyes up sunshine. Ya don’t wanna miss the climax!” Nina barked as she used her surprisingly strong arms to center my vision on the rape happening before my eyes.

Dr. Decagon was now sprawled out on the floor, rapidly thrusting an overly large stent into my vagina while caressing my breasts with another hand. I watched him rapidly move my hands over my sweat drenched body and cause my voice to reach higher and higher pitches. Despite my reluctance to delve into such activities before, I found myself thrilled by what I was seeing, pushed into a lust by the body I was trapped within. I groaned as I recognized I had such a vile desire, disgusted with myself for wanting to experience such a thing, and filled with vile as I was reminded of the feeling of a hardened cock rubbing against Dr. Decagon’s boxers and trousers.

Eventually, the Doctor ceased their actions, having reached the climax they were building towards. They spent seconds laying on the exam room floor in satisfaction before adopting a Cheshire grin as they looked over their former body, specifically its crotch region. With shame building across my person, Dr. Decagon wasted no time in unzipping the fly, unbuckling the belt, and tugging down the pants to get a good look at the imposing sexual organ that I felt vivid sensations from.

“Your time is limited, but I think you deserve to experience at least one orgasm before you are sent to the next dimension,” Dr. Decagon said, adopting an intonation that made me sound like an amateur porn actress.

“You go, babe! Fuck yo-self something fierce!” Nina eagerly shouted, while still holding my vision in place.

“No, I don’t think it would be a great fit. I can feel a shit brewing in my ass, so anal’s out. I’m still getting used to this mouth, and, again, it might be a tight fit. So my apologies, but you’ll just have to settle for a handjob, my dear.”

Without skipping a beat, the Doctor gripped their former dick and caressed it. The stimulation of tender skin was something I had experienced before, but this felt… different, coarser, tougher, and a bit… empowering, almost. As sickening as the situation undeniably was, I could not help but find myself drawn to the sight before me, of seeing my small dark hands rubbing against a long thick pale flesh rod that thrust vehemently towards the ceiling. 

The constant stream of disgust and confusion parted away as a calming sensation began coursing through my current body, making me at ease. I don’t know whether it was the handjob or the embrace of death weakening my resolve, but I enjoyed the sensation of orgasming in Dr. Decagon’s body. It was both relaxing and exciting, it was foreign yet enticing, and after a few seconds, I reached the end, releasing a spurt of viscous white fluid that dripped onto my true body’s hands.

As I eased into the afterglow, I began struggling to comprehend things around me. The murmuring of Nina and Decagon became muted, the color slowly bled out of the world before me, and a numbness began replacing all sensations I felt. This decline in my senses continued until I met a singular, almost aggressive feeling of nothingness. The world had ceased to be, and I was left… somewhere, with nothing more than my ongoing thoughts of confusion, worry, and muffled disgust to fill my mind.

It did not take me long to rationalize that what I had experienced was, indeed, death. That while my mind may continue to function, my existence ceased. It was something I initially accepted, still affected by the high I died experiencing, but that soon gave way to anger, fury, and remorse for what I had lost. I had no voice, and I wished to do nothing more than to shout at the universe for afflicting me with such a needlessly cruel fate. I was fully anticipating my rage to get me nowhere, and for my dismay to be ignored by the unseen and potentially non-existent masters of existence. All until… something happened. The sense of nothingness I was consumed by was replaced with the sense of something. It was as if a switch had been flicked, and the dead machine that was my body had sprung up to life in a fraction of a second.

I found myself back in my true body. I felt a light summer breeze flow across my face and ruffle my hair, the clinging of familiar clothes as they covered my person, and saw the outside of Dr. Decagon’s office building. For a moment, I wondered if that was all just a hallucination, if I was going slightly mad, or if I was undergoing an unwanted side effect from the Deep Dive Diagnosis. But as I was hit with this moment of immense sensation, going from nothing to everything, I failed to notice that I was moving. My legs were moving on their own, my mouth was speaking words that were not my own, and my eyes were focused on Nina, who was looking at me with a warm expression.

I soon realized what had happened. I had been spared true death, and was instead living out an existence where I acted as a passenger within my own body, enjoying the sights, sounds, and sensations, but lacking all control, as the person piloting my body was still Dr. Decagon. They took to my life with uncanny familiarity and comfort, picking things up right where I left off, and to my friends, my family, and the entire world. There was never a doubt that they were Vita Velasquez. Their actions did not fully align with my wishes, their speech differed from mine in some areas, but they were presenting themselves to the outside world as me so well that I had doubts that anyone would ever suspect that anything was amiss.

The only hint of such was the relationship between themselves and Nina No, Doctor Decagon’s former partner in body theft, and centuries-long companion. The two of them had a storied and romantic relationship with one another, leading them to become best friends to the outside world and sexually adventurous girlfriends in private. The catalyst for their public relationship came from being roommates who began attending a local medical school in the fall. It was part of a cycle that the two supposedly repeated for generations upon generations. They would steal the body of young people, fund their education via secretive bank accounts, and continue helping people with their working medical knowledge, while also experiencing a longer and more varied existence than any other human.

Being unable to speak directly to Decagon, Nina, or anyone, I could only gather bits and pieces of their history that they shared throughout casual private conversations and in-jokes over a period of several years. 

The two were born into slavery in colonial America, where they lived their lives toiling fields for their self-proclaimed masters. All until one evening during the harvest moon of 1752, when the pair saw something not too far away from their farmland and went to investigate it. They found a strange mechanical egg-shaped vessel that opened to reveal an imposing humanoid creature donned in a white cloak, with coarse lilac skin, white bestial eyes, and a mane of wild grey hair. This unnamed figure, who simply referred to themselves as a Jovian, spoke to the two in an uncouth, rhythmic manner that sounded appropriately alien to the pair. 

Upon seeing how intimidated the two were, the Jovian… somehow… gave them what they dubbed a Space Voodoo Curse, claiming that they should use it to better the world however they see fit, before returning to space in their egg-shaped vessel. This Space Voodoo Curse was the body swap ability I previously witnessed firsthand. After discovering this curse, they initially used its power to steal the lives of their masters, allowing them to free their former peers and family from a life of servitude.

They spent years continuing this process, freeing thousands, but as the years went on, they began to ask themselves how to use this gift to bring as much good into the world as possible, and they believed that the best way to do this was to become doctors of medicine, helping those with illnesses, ailments, and so forth, which they did for approximately 200 years, developing some of the most immense medical skill sets possible. They spoke with fondness as they recounted the mistakes they made, the innovations they championed, and the lives they saved over the years.

However, such discussions only filled a small sliver of the life I experienced as a passenger in my own body. While I lacked any control over my actions, I still took all the stimulation that Decagon felt, saw what they saw, and heard what they heard. Everything they did, I experienced, and because of this, due to a need to have control and not exist as a bystander, I began living alongside them, walking with them, speaking with them, and as time went on, the distinction between Decagon and myself grew smaller, and smaller, until we were almost in perfect sync to one another.

Then there is the content of that life. While retaining good and loving relationships with those I cared for deeply, Dr. Decagon took my life down an unexpected career path by becoming an Oncologist. I learned everything they learned, performed every procedure they did, and got to know a closely-knit group of people dedicated to aiding those afflicted with cancer. It was a rewarding career path filled with many smiles and a fair share of sorrow when frail faces vanished from my life, but one where I began to experience the same love of doing something good that drove Decagon and Nina down their career paths.

As the years went by, experiences were made, trials were overcome, my career advanced along with technology, and I began to almost forget the traumatic event that happened back in 2009. As the years went on, my body became more rigid, my hair began to grey, and my career became more advisory. I began to feel a sense of completeness, a sense that I had lived a full life, despite not having ‘lived’ for over 40 years. Shortly after I developed this feeling, things… changed. On one innocuous day in 2052, when Decagon stopped suddenly while washing up at home after a long day’s work. 

“Hey, Vita, are you still there?” They said while looking directly at the mirror.

“It’s been a while since I talked back to you, but I figured it would be better this way, just accepting you as a tag-along like this. It might not be right, but it’s the approach I’ve taken for the past… 300 years now. I… I must apologize to you. What I did that day was utterly horrible, and it was something I did out of fear. I’m afraid of dying. Of fading away after all this time, and for as cruel and malicious as it is, I will not stop… ever.”

“Over the years I’m sure you heard about the Space Voodoo Curse, the thing we called the Deep Dive Diagnosis. The curse is meant to have one take over the life of another person, and in doing so it causes the initiator’s body to pass away. However… if that person dies with a feeling of disdain, a thirst for vengeance, then they will live on as a lingering spirit, attached to their true original body, passively living out the rest of their days.”

“I… we are getting on in the years, and I am currently thinking about a way to… end your life. I take no pleasure in doing this and view it as a necessity. Out of my own cowardice, and in my attempt to try to better this dark dark world of grey and black even a smidgen. Within the next year or two, I will find my next life. A patient of mine will be called in, Vita Velasquez will undergo a sudden death, Nina will aid me in this process, and I will aid her as she pursues the same. Vita… if you are still around, I want you to know that I have loved your life dearly, and wish that I could simply give it back to you. But I have done this too long to change my ways, and must ask that you simply forgive me for all I’ve done and all I will do.”

Though I knew they could not hear me, I replied to Decagon regardless, hoping that despite decades of silence, they will at least be able to hear these final words.

“I forgive you, Dr. Decagon.”

Upon uttering those words, I was once again met with the gradual feeling of nothingness I experienced all those years ago. Yet whereas I was once brimming with fury over the idea of losing everything. Now… I was happy to let it all go.

Das Ende


Originally when writing this story, I was going to have things conclude things on more of a saddening and bitter conclusion, to make out Doctor Decagon and Nina as monsters who get kicks off of stealing lives, but through the machinations of hashing out an idea, I decided to go with something a touch more heartfelt and somber. Most of which was inspired by the Ashley’s Eyes route from Press-Switch, what its developer, Skiegh, originally planned for it.

I recall being fairly happy with this story when I first released it, but looking back on it with roughly two years of hindsight… it’s not very good. Its concept was largely devised around making a single scene happen, the backstory is very random if you just read the story, and despite an effort to give characters background and pathos, they strike me as being very plastic. As I never envisioned this as a character-driven story.

There are definitely some things I enjoyed about this story, such as Vita’s reluctance to disassociate her body as belonging to her, and the asexual character getting double-raped angle, but I do not really care for it or look back on it as a bastion of untapped potential. It’s just kind of… there.

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