Dr Valeria loses all of her knowledge

Valeria- The following day

Dr. Valeria stood outside the Whitmore estate, car keys in her purse, her arms crossed tightly beneath her chest as she stared at the heavy front door.

She didn’t like this.

Something had been gnawing at her all morning, half-formed thoughts and ugly little fragments of memory that didn’t add up. She’d woken up far too late, hair a mess, wearing clothes that weren’t hers, and with a faint soreness in her knees that she couldn’t quite place. Her phone had no messages; her calendar was blank. And Diego... Diego had looked at her like she was a stranger.

She remembered coming to the house yesterday. She remembered Chase being there. But everything else felt... foggy. Fragments. Flashes. She vaguely remembered laughter, a feeling of carelessness and lastly Chase's face looking smug with pride.

She didn’t say it aloud. But it whispered in her mind anyway. Something was wrong. Maybe she was overthinking all of this. Maybe there was some perfectly normal explanation to account for her missing time.

But her hopes for no foul play didn’t explain Diego's vigilance. He’d followed her all morning with his eyes, trailing her like he was waiting for something. He looked hurt. Afraid. And she didn't know what to say to him. She couldn’t even remember how she’d responded the night before when he asked about what happened. She must’ve said something, but now, she couldn’t recall her own words. That terrified her most.

The wind picked up. She pulled on her sleeves and glanced at the door again.

Chase would explain this.

He owed her an explanation.

Even if he was smug, arrogant, manipulative—he was just a boy, really. A boy who thought too highly of himself. She’d humor him, extract the truth, and then put a stop to whatever power trip he was riding on. Maybe he’d **** her. That made more sense than... even though she didn’t want to believe she could fall for something so simple.

She exhaled slowly, drew herself up to her full height, and pressed the doorbell.

The door creaked open.

Valeria blinked, adjusting to the dim interior. The figure standing before her wore the classic uniform of a fetish maid. A revealing black and white uniform, stripper heels and a frilly maid’s cap on her head. The sort of outfit one would see in a shady hotel or some overly dramatized porn video. But it wasn’t the uniform that made Valeria’s breath catch in her throat.

It was the face.

“...Kendra?”

The maid didn’t flinch. She merely offered a slight, polite nod and stepped aside, gesturing silently for Valeria to enter. But it was her. Valeria knew it was her. Kendra Whitmore, socialite, philanthropist and the matriarch of the house was standing there with her hair tied in a tight bun and eyes lowered like a servant awaiting her employer.

Valeria stepped in slowly, the heels of her shoes clicking against the marble tiles. “Kendra,” she said again, more forcefully now. “What the hell is goi-?”

She didn’t finish.

Fingers curled around the back of her lab coat. Hard. A sharp tug yanked her backwards with a startled gasp, her body jerking as it collided into his.

“Wha—Chase?!”

His palm clamped over her eyes in a smooth, practised motion. His voice was in her ear before her mind could even complete the thought:

“SLEEP.”

Everything unraveled in an instant.

Her limbs gave out immediately, any resistance dissolving like salt in warm water. Not because she wanted to, not because she even understood what was happening but because the command bypassed her consciousness entirely. Like it had been hardwired into her at some point she couldn’t quite remember. Her eyes fluttered behind his hand, mouth falling slack, and her arms drooped to her sides.

No fear. No confusion. No resistance.

Just obedience.

A blank, soft surrender.

Her body slumped into his arms, dead weight. The doctor, the mother, the woman gone in a flash. Chase held her there, fingers steady, watching her chest rise and fall in that familiar, mechanical rhythm. His other hand gently lowered from her eyes, revealing nothing but a vacant stare.

He smirked. “Much better.”

Chase

With a grunt of casual satisfaction, Chase let Valeria’s limp form collapse onto the floor like she was nothing more than a coat he no longer needed to hold.

“Perfect,” he muttered to himself, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt as he stepped around her body. “Guess the instant induction sticks just as well as the slower methods. That’s going to save me so much time.”

She lay there motionless, one heel twisted beneath her foot, her skirt hiked just slightly up her thigh from the fall. The fall didn’t even stir her. She looked tranquil. Docile. Like she belonged there.

Chase turned his head towards his maid.

“Mother,” he called in a sing-song voice.

“Yes, Master Chase?” came the response, immediate and bright, the voice of a woman who had been waiting quietly for any command, any excuse to serve. She curtsied.

“Be a dear and bring the good doctor to the couch, will you? I want her nice and comfy when I wipe her mind again.”

“Of course, Master Chase.”

She moved without hesitation, her smile serene, hands smooth and practised. The dignified, once-imposing Kendra Whitmore bent down, slipped her arms under Valeria, and hoisted her awkwardly—first dragging, then scooping her up fully when Valeria’s knees thumped dully against the floor.

She staggered only slightly as she carried her to the living room, lowering Valeria onto the long couch with care. The woman in the lab coat slumped against the cushions, head tilting sideways like a doll. One arm dangled loosely over the edge.

Kendra stepped back and folded her hands neatly in front of her apron, awaiting further orders.

Chase sank into the high-backed chair beside the couch, reclining slightly, spreading his knees.

His gaze lingered on Valeria’s blank face. He reached over and brushed a loose strand of hair from her forehead, letting his fingers gently graze her temple.

“Can you hear me, Valeria?”

“Yes,” came the reply, flat and immediate. No emotion, no inflection. Just reception.

He smiled. “Good girl. Do you know who you are?”

“Yes.”

Chase leaned forward slightly, watching her lips.

“Then go ahead,” he said softly. “Introduce yourself.”

Valeria’s eyes didn’t focus. Her voice came low, automatic. “I’m Dr. Valeria Rivera, head of medicine at-”

“No.”

Chase’s tone sharpened, and her sentence choked off mid-breath. Her lips froze, then closed. She went still.

“No,” he repeated, slower this time. “You’re remembering it incorrectly.”

He watched as the confusion settled into her body. The faint furrow between her brows. The faint flicker of resistance trying to claw back to the surface. Too late.

Chase leaned in, smiling.

“Let’s try again.”

Chase let his fingers trail along the lapel of her coat again, smoothing it. His voice remained soft, patient, the kind that sounded helpful until you listened too closely.

“You see, Valeria… your life, your old life didn’t really have a place for me in it, did it?”

She didn’t respond. Couldn’t, really.

“You were too busy. Too important. Too educated.” He chuckled quietly. “All those degrees, all those patients, all those self-righteous lectures.”

His hand now gently tapped her temple.

“But that version of you… that Dr. Rivera… she wasn’t very useful to me. And I need a version of you who is. Someone more… pliable. Malleable.”

He let that sit a moment, watching her breathing. Slow. Shallow.

“So, here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to bring you back up, just enough to answer some questions. Just surface level. And every time I do, every time I ask you something basic, I want you to really try and answer. But you won’t be able to, Valeria.”

He smiled.

“Because I’ve created something special in your mind. A fog. And every time you reach for what you think you know… the fog rolls in thicker.”

He leaned back again, folding his arms as if to signal a test was beginning.

“Three… two… one… awake now, Valeria. Eyes open.”

Her lashes fluttered, her posture stiffened. She blinked once, twice. She looked confused but alert. Her gaze darted from the chandelier to the couch to the strange way her legs were arranged, before finally settling on him.

“Ch…Chase?” she murmured, trying to sit up.

“Hi, doc,” he said warmly. “Mind if I ask you a few questions?”

She frowned. “What… what is going on? Why was I—?”

“Shhh. Just answer. Let’s keep it simple. What’s Newton’s Third Law?”

Valeria opened her mouth almost instantly, years of education primed to leap forward but nothing came out. Her eyes shifted. Her brow furrowed again.

“It’s… I know this. It’s the one about… **** and… and…”

She paused. Her jaw clenched as her brain wrestled with the fog in her mind.

“It’s fine,” Chase said easily, waving it off. “Maybe something easier. What’s the chemical symbol for water?”

Her face twisted now. She looked embarrassed.

“It’s… H…Oh. No—H2. H2-something—”

The words were sand in her mouth. She looked down at her hands as if they might have the answer scribbled there.

“There’s no need to stress,” Chase cooed. “This is natural. You’re just feeling… a little foggy. Let’s keep going. Can you name the major artery in the neck?”

She swallowed. “The… um…”

The silence stretched out. Her confidence cracked again, this time with visible panic crawling behind her eyes. She looked away.

“Valeria,” Chase said gently, “doesn’t it bother you that you can’t answer such simple questions? That everything you built your life on—your expertise, your degrees—feels like it’s slipping away?”

“I… I don’t understand why I can’t—”

“I do,” Chase said, cutting her off. “Because you’re not that woman anymore. And deep down, that feels right, doesn’t it?”

She didn’t respond. Her chest rose and fell faster now.

“Every time you try to remember, it just gets foggier,” he continued, voice dipping to a low rhythm. “Your mind trying to claw through all that smoke… it’s exhausting, isn’t it?”

She gave a tiny nod before catching herself.

“And each time it happens, Valeria,” he said slowly, “each time you fail to remember even the most basic things… a part of you becomes more open. More willing to let me decide what’s best for you. Doesn’t that make sense? Doesn’t it feel safer to stop trying and just… listen?”

Her lips trembled. “I… I don’t want to forget…”

Chase just tilted his head, his smile patient, almost sympathetic. “But you already are, Valeria. Let’s try again.”

He leaned forward, “Tell me, what’s the first step in treating a broken bone?”

Valeria blinked. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. A long silence. Her brow furrowed. “It’s… you… you stabilize it, I think—no, wait, you clean it first? Or…” Her voice cracked mid-sentence.

Chase gave a soft chuckle. “Let’s make it simpler. How many chambers does the human heart have?”

She frowned, trying to picture it. Her fingers twitched in her lap. She used to explain things like this to patients, to interns. But now, nothing. Just static. Her breath hitched. “I should know this,” she muttered, almost to herself.

“You should,” Chase agreed. “But you don’t.”

Another question followed. And another. What’s the periodic table? What’s the square root of 64? Which side of the body is the liver on?

Each time, the fog inside her mind thickened. It was like trying to read ink in water, facts she’d once built her life on now danced just beyond reach. Her palms started to sweat.

“This isn’t happening,” she whispered. “This can’t be-”

“Keep going,” Chase said, mockingly. “You’re doing great.”

“I-I used to teach this,” she said, her voice cracking. “I’ve performed surgeries, given lectures, why can’t I?” Her words stopped. Her breathing grew uneven. “What’s wrong with me?”

“You’re changing,” he said simply. “The woman you used to be isn’t useful anymore. But don’t worry. That emptiness you feel? It just means there’s room now for something better.”

Her hands covered her face. She didn’t cry; no tears came but her voice sounded like she was already mourning herself. “I feel like a fraud. Like I don’t belong in my own skin anymore. I’m not a doctor…”

She looked up at Chase now, eyes wide, terrified, ****. “Please… help me. I don’t want to pretend anymore. Just tell me what I am.”

Chase gave her a small, satisfied smile, leaned forward, and gently placed a hand over her eyes.

“Sleeep,” he whispered.

And just like that, her shoulders slumped, her eyes fluttered shut, and the woman once called Dr. Valeria Rivera surrendered once more to the void. This time, willingly.