It was a Wednesday...

It was a Wednesday…I think, when my eyes first opened. Bright lights hung above and made my vision blurry as my eyes watered. It was excruciating, but trying to turn my head I found I couldn’t. Leather rubbed against my forehead, and I figured it was some kind of strap holding it down, then I moved my arms, my legs, even my chest, but it was all strapped down securely, arms outstretched on either side of me. Now the tears were flowing, something was desperately wrong here…what last happened? I remembered being at the bar, sipping on a martini and generally taking in the atmosphere, but the bar was so far away now and the tears were pouring out of my eyes. Sobs broke up the still silence, and I tried to scream for help but found my mouth muffled, tap covering the lips and some kind of fabric stuffed in my mouth.

“Oh, awoken now have we?” Asked a cold voice nearby, and I strained against the leather to find out who the fuck it was, but it soon became I wouldn’t find out. A man leaned over in front of my face, his mouth and majority of his face covered with some sort of doctor’s mask, like the ones from that show ER. Hair pulled back and covered by a bandana. I tried to scream fuck you, but it came out as a ‘Puk cu’ through the tape, he got the message though.

“Naughty, naughty, where’d you get a mouth like that? Hmmm?” He rubbed a gloved hand over my face, very parental like or like an artist beginning on a blank canvass. I couldn’t stop crying. ‘Feez’ came through the tape over and over again as I pleaded, but he just smiled, the corners of his eyes scrunching up as his grin was concealed. “No,” Came from his mouth, and he reeled back out of the light, blinding me again. There was a rustle of metal, and then he was back, hands on either side of my head as he craned to look at me straight on, before winking one cold blue eye and me and raising the scalpel that he held.

I tried to close my eyes at the sight, but he just made a ‘tsk’ sound and I felt the gloved hands grab at my eyelid pulling it up and down, farther than it was supposed to go. Thoughts like ‘What’s he doing’ or ‘No not that’ came into my mind, but he wasn’t telepathic and even if he was I doubt he’d care. The scalpel entered shortly after, slicing carefully down my eyelid and removing it from my face, revealing a blood coated image of him and the scalpel.

Tears were in excess now, pushing the blood away and keeping my eye wet as he palmed the eyelid and smiled down at me. “What a nice present, thank you,” He placed it somewhere beside me and grabbed at the second eyelid. This time though I saw it coming and opened my eye, holding it as wide open as I found in a vain attempt to keep it away from him, but he just laughed, grabbed an eyelash, and pulled it down. Fuck. When that was gone he rustled with the metal objects nearby, and flashed a pair of needle-nose pliers in front my face, a sick grin upturning the corners of his eyes once again.

The feeling of metal on my fingers should’ve scared me, but at this point I just couldn’t stop sobbing, I knew I was going to die now, there was no way I’d get out of this and I continued to plead. ‘Feez’ came out through the tape repeatedly, and I gave it an extra loud push when he ripped out my index finger’s nail. It was the most intense and excruciating pain I’d ever felt in my entire life. I just couldn’t stop crying or pleading now.

Rip! Out came by middle fingers, then my ringer finger, followed by my pinkie, and lastly my thumb. When he’d finished on hand, he moved down to my feet, bare as they were, and ran a finger up and down the soles eliciting a scream from me and causing my to recoil in discomfort. I was extremely ticklish. But then the metal gripped my big toes nail, and I scrunched my face up knowing what was coming. It topped the fingers, being bigger and I guess deeper into my foot, along with the fact it was on my fucking foot. The pain was so great I felt like I’d black out right there, and came so close, but not quite. I felt him rip out the rest off that foot and then move over to my hand before I actually did pass out.

Water woke me up, splashed on my face from nearby, and the doctor snarled at me, his eyes taking on a look of anger and humiliation. “You will remain awake as I do this, do not fall asleep again or I’ll find your family,” The very possibility that this monster would go after my family shook me to the core and a new flow of tears wept down my face, streaming onto the cold metal below me and he grinned, putting down the glass he’d used to waken me.

“This is a creative output that I’m performing on you. I’m going to turn you into a magnificent piece and hang you up on a wall somewhere,” A cruel laugh uttered from behind the mask as he rustled with some more metal nearby. I could feel a sharp continuous pain in every digit of my body. The image of a hammer flashed before my eyes, and then in the bottom of my peripheries, as the doctor raised it high above his head and brought it down on my calf, shattering the bone brutally causing me to scream out in pain and force my head up against the leather that held it down.

Again he brought it up above his head, brought it down my knee, then my thigh, and then he worked on my other leg. After the legs he cracked down on my arms, literally, and every time I felt a bit of my life draining away like the health bar in some sort of twisted video game. Only, this wasn’t digital, this was reality. “Hmmm, now what?” He asked rhetorically, but I said nothing, instead sobbing profusely and praying to any deity I could muster up to be saved from this hell that I was being put through. How could someone do this to me? I wasn’t a bad person; I believed in karma, I thought bad things happened to bad people. I donated to local charities, I helped out friends whenever they asked, and minded my own business as much as possible. Why?

My bowels began to vacate, led in time by my bladder as the table became covered in my excrements, and he howled with a high pitched cackle of a laugh. “My god!” He shrieked, and burst into another bout of laughter, occasionally holding his sides comically and pointing a single gloved finger at the mess on the table. When his laughter finally died down, he eyed me with contempt and suddenly leapt forward, placing a hand on either side of my head as he brought his face so close to mine I could smell a bit of whiskey on his breath. “Pity I’ll have to clean that up later, the table was made for blood, not shit,” He cackled more and leaned back, laughing as he reached for a new utensil and pulled it up to flash before my eyes. Clamped between a pair of needle holders was a small suture needle, and as I cringed at the realization of what was to happen, his laughter rose up to an unprecedented level.

“I love that face, get’s me every time,” Then without further adieu he grabbed my chin roughly, removed the tape harshly, and held it closed as he began to silence my lips. My attempt at defence was a pathetic bout of making a motor boat sound with my lips, but it just frustrated him and he withdrew before delivering a powerful slap across my face that stung with a furious fire.

“Don’t, or I’ll make this even worse,” He warned, and started the procedure again, this time with no resistance by me aside from the nonstop whimpering I’d been brought down to over the course of this entire event. How had I gotten here? My mind reeled to my last memories. I’d been in a bar, nothing too fancy but there had been a line-up outside, which I remember clearly. A couple of drinks later and a bit of touch and go with a couple of the locals, but that was all I could really remember. Honestly it was mostly a haze, and I was having trouble even remembering that, and it was made all the more difficult with the pain from my lips and the blood I tasted trickling into my mouth.

“I suppose you’re wondering why you’re here,” My eyebrows arched tightly, it was as if the man was telepathic, and he giggled a little at the face I made. “Yeah, they always do…I saw you when I was passing the bar, knew I had to have you. So innocent, so sweet, so stupid!” His voice rose at the last bit and he made an especially painful insertion into my lip with the suture, finishing the seal and cutting the thread.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

It came from the right and sounded heavily metallic like someone knocking on a steel door, so my eyes twisted outlandishly in their sockets to try and see if possibly this was my salvation. Doctor Savage turned to the sound with a start, obviously a little pissed off at being interrupted, but put down his needle holders and bloodied suture needle to go and answer the door. There was the sound of sliding metal, a couple of voices, and then the sliding of metal again as I tried desperately to scream for help. There came a laugh, and I knew it was Doctor Savage, and that whoever it was at the door either hadn’t realized my predicament or hadn’t even cared in the slightest.

He came into view a second later; devilish grin concealed by the mask he wore as he put his hands on his waist and observed his handiwork closely. “That was the big boss man, he says I have to finish up with you now, pity too I was just getting to grow attached to you,” The smile remained as he heaved up a large cleaver from the table of tools nearby, and flashed the rusted steel in front of my eyes as my screams reached a new peek, to the point that I felt the sutures tearing. Doctor didn’t care though, and disappeared below my waist which was followed by a warm rubbery hand on my thigh. “Don’t worry, you’ll probably just becoming pig feed, or maybe you’ll be ground into beef. Either way it’s a better life than the one you had…probably,” I remember thinking, my god this is it, and then there was a loud chop! And I blacked out.