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Rated: 13+ · Non-fiction · Dark · #1644998
This is based on a nightmare that I had after watching Hostel: Part II. (First draft)
My eyes shot open, erupting to life the moment that they were pried and held open by a dreadful medical instrument. The intense bright light that hung on the ceiling above my head burned my pried open eyes terribly, resulting in a slight pain. It felt as though the light would burn through my eyes and melt them until they were puddles in my eye sockets. From the corners of my eyes, a couple stream of tears flowed out.

My body lay naked on a cold, metal examination table, with my arms forced at my sides and my legs spread wide open for the world to see. Thick leather straps bound my wrists and ankles securely. A leather strap was tightly bound to my head, to keep me from moving it around. In other words, I was unable to get up and escape from what was about to occur. My pale body shivered from the coldness, a vent just nearby me to the right. The room itself was made cold for reasons that I do not know. To preserve bodies or because the doctor preferred it that way, a patient has told me.

Dr. Roth entered without warning and walked over to me slowly, wheeling a small metal tray upon a table along with him and pulled it up beside him. The contents consisted of painful needles, sharp surgical scissors and scalpels, and other horrid medical instruments that were deemed to be used on me. My heart nearly stopped. This was like the nightmare that I’ve had during the pervious nights. In my nightmares, I would wake up strapped to the examination table with the very same doctor that’s before me now. He’d play with me before starting to cut me wide open with no anesthetics, my intestines and internal organs lying on a clothed table, dark sticky blood covering it. I would always wake up screaming just as he was about to drill my skull open.

Saying no words and doing nothing but glaring down at me with gorgeous apple, candy green eyes and handsome face, he slipped on his clear plastic gloves. My heart pounded in my chest so hard and fast I thought it would burst through my chest but surprisingly it didn’t. I flinched the instant Dr. Roth’s gloved hands touched my right shoulder blade and then they found their way over to my creamy smooth breasts. His touch felt cold and unprofessional. This was not the touch and feeling of a doctor but more of a perverted one. I shivered, having tremors crawl down my spine. In one swift movement, his artificial, unsmooth hands cupped my breasts together. I’ve heard rumors from a female patient that I shared a room with about Dr. Roth whose name was Bailey. Unlike me, she’s been examined more than once by the doctor in here. She said that he plays around with all his female patients, that he has a strange fascination with them. I’m his main fascination.

I squirmed and struggled through my restraints roughly. Jerking his hands away from my chest, he looked down at me once more as if to study me again. “There’s no point in fighting, Miss Ashba. You are bound tight to this table and your eyes are wide open so you cannot shut yourself off from today’s procedure. I want you fully alert which is why you will be feeling everything that happens today.” He said, shaking his head. Terror surged through me. No anesthetics, no nothing to reduce the amount of pain that I was going to soon feel.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked him in a faint whisper, unable to speak coherently. A gasp and groan escaped from my lips the second his fingers rammed inside of me. My fists clenched, making me wish I could jump up and attack him, wrapping his hands around his neck and brutally strangle him.

“But I’m not sick. I’m fine.” I pleaded with him.

Unable to turn my head to the side, from the corner of my eye I watched as he walked over to a long wooden table covered by a clean white cloth. Near it was a huge machine that had wires connecting to it. My heart thudded as he pushed it over to me.

“Yes you are. You have been infected with the Pandorium disease; you’re the first to have it here at the hospital. The disease infects your spleen and makes it swollen, which is probably why you’ve been experience sharp pains in your abdomen. It also swarms in with your intestines and eats away at it, causing unbearable agony before it goes to your heart as well, releasing an undetectable poison into your pumping heart.”

“No!! I have no disease!” I nearly screamed at him.

“You don’t have a choice. It already went to your spleen. I have to remove it before any more damage ensues. It could become so enlarge that it’ll explode inside you. That’s a risk I will not take. You will be our specimen.”

“No!” I shrieked my voice cracking. “Please!”

“You don’t understand how important this is to me, to us. Hundreds of people are dying from the Pandorium disease and as of right now, there’s no cure. If I can do something about it, maybe a cure will be eventually found.”

I shook my head.

“It’ll only hurt a bit, I promise. You could die.” He said, picking up the two wires. They were clear tubes and on the other end of them were two sharp screw attachments, looking like they hooked up into something. “I will have to monitor the pressure in your skull. Last time I checked, you had a brain hernia. These will be inserted.” A few moments later, horrible pain flashed through my skull as Dr. Roth drilled in the screw ends of the tubes right into my skull on both sides, just above my temples. I bit my lip hard. It took all that was inside of me to not scream out murderously.

Turning on the large colorful machine, it began beeping loudly. “It’s up to eighty.” He announced. I didn’t get what he was saying. Was he talking about the pressure in my skull? I prayed that he wouldn’t drill open my skull. My heart stopped when he reached for the scalpel on the metal tray. The operation was about to begin.

I squirmed again, fighting against the restraints with all the strength I had at the moment. I pleaded with him, crying for him to not cut me and split me wide open. I screamed and cursed but nothing seemed to stop me. I let out an agonizing screech of pain as Dr. Roth pressed the ice cold blade against my flesh and made a long incision from my chest and down to my stomach. Not taking the scalpel out, he drew the blade all the way up and made two extended cuts at the top on both sides, up to my collarbones. Dark red blood seeped out, the irony smell of the blood flowed up to me and through my nostrils, nearly making me faint. After placing the blood soaked scalpel down, he pulled back the two flaps of flesh, revealing my insides. Disgusted, my eyes rolled back into my head, making me faint. So badly did I want to black out so I didn’t have to feel anymore pain.

Split wide open, he leaned over me looked inside before he removed my spleen. My wide pried open eyes couldn’t wide anymore as I saw what he took out. The spleen was large, black and swollen to no end. He placed it down on a metal table.

He looked over at the intestines and his eyes widened with disgust. “My god….look at this. It’s all over your intestines, like a strange black tar and a tumor combined together. This must go.” Pulling out the bloody intestines that was covered in a black tar substance wrapped around something like a large tumor of some sort, it looked like a long string of wires…or worse. I shrieked, frightened. He chucked it on the table.

He grabbed a syringe off the tray with one bloody hand and moved over to my head. Without warning, the needle pierced the skin on the side of my neck. I gasped but did nothing more. I felt my pupils dilating and my body went numb. What did he do to me?

“The drug I injected you with should stop any contractions you may feel. It will also leave you in a state of unconsciousness as I work on your skull. It elevated to 110.” He stated.

“No, please don’t cut my skull open.” I begged to him as he grabbed the surgical drill and saw. But by that time, everything went black completely…

Unbearable agony suddenly woke me up from my unconscious state. My eyes flew open as if I had been resurrected from the dead. I bolted right up on the metal table, to find myself unbound but still naked. Frantically, I looked down at myself. Where I was cut, there were stitches which caused me to shiver and cringe. Various tubes and IVs stick out of my arms, connected to a small machine. The tubes in my head were long gone. Roughly, I yanked the IVs and tubes out of me and threw them away from me. I hopped off the table and wandered around slowly but cautiously.

The table that supposedly had my intestines and spleen was cleaned up and empty. I scanned the room with my brown eyes. Nothing was out of place, which seemed odd. And the room wasn’t cold anymore, it was at room temperature.

Finding the double doors that must’ve lead out of the room, I walked through them and entered another room. This room was white and looked another examination room. The only difference was that on the wall hung a glass mirror with a black iron edge. I stood in front of the mirror and ran my hands up down every part of my nude body, feeling it, including my plump breasts and my small wide hips that were perfectly curved.

But then, abruptly, the mirror cracked at every degree, rotting at the edges. The bleak walls around me began to rot and peel off piece by piece, the smell of burning and decaying flesh and bones sickened me. Beneath my pale bare feet, the titled floor turned into mushy black ash that felt like mud. My toes were encrusted with the ash. After something started dripping down from the ceiling, I looked up to see what it was. The ceiling was melted and dripping with blood and bone marrow. My eyes widened with fright.

I tried to turn around and run away as fast as I could, but I couldn’t. The black ash worked as cement and forced my feet to be stuck deep inside it. No matter how many attempts I made to jerk my feet up, it was no use.

I was trapped…

I stared back into the cracked mirror and saw a black figure, a man wearing a long black cloak that hid his face. Before I could turn my head to face him, he suddenly grabbed me from behind and raised a silver butcher knife in his hand. Fear rose through me. He was going to kill me.

“You cannot escape. The darkness will consume you and then you will become one of us.” He whispered menacingly into my ear. I trembled beside him, too terrified to try to fight him. “They want you…” A blood curling scream came from me before everything went dark as the knife was rammed through my throat…

© Copyright 2010 Bobbi DeVille (eyespriedopen at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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