Patient NO 1
Rose Nancywood looked up, straight into the darkness as tears rolled down her puffy cheeks . The rope around her hands felt as though it got tighter the more she struggled. The room was gradually getting warmer and her discomfort was not helping matters . She was wearing only her underwear, or at least that is what it felt like. Any moment from now, the stranger would return to make her more uncomfortable. As she cuddled up at the corner of the dark room , she thought of her family, her friends and every other thing her mind could recall at that moment . Maybe she did not get to tell her family how much she loved them or maybe she never got to spend much time with her friends and appreciate them more. You really don't know what you have until you lose it.
The stench of decaying flesh and other evidences of putrefaction progressed gradually, making its way around the room. But frankly speaking, that was the last thing on her mind. There was no thought of escape though as she was sure as hell that the building she was presently in was in the middle of nowhere. Besides the room was dark so could not locate the escapes routes which would aid her in formulating her plan.
The door suddenly flew open, forcing light into the room and straight into Rose’s eyes. The strangers silhouette was visible at the doorway and a whip swung slowly from his right hand. She could not see his face but she could imagine a cold and twisted smile curled up on it. With the door still open he approached her, taking his time as he moved.The whip also vibrated violently in the air as he moved as though the stranger was trying to emphasize on its existence. He bent over to speak to her and the smell of tobacco and Bloody Bishop left his mouth when he opened it. “Rose Nancywood, look at you all cute and curled up here with your fear clearly visible; just the way i like it” . She raised her head and gazed him “Who are you and what do you want from me you creep?” “ Oh sorry i forgot my manners. The name is Chris; not all of it though but that is what you would call me for the time being and we both know what i want from you”. He dug his hand into her hair, grabbed a handful of it and sniffed it gracefully. “Ah the smell of strawberry...what exquisite fragrance” To her disguised her worked his hands meticulously around her hair all the way to her face. “So young and innocent. I am almost certain i would be your first and last”
In every bar, there were always three groups: the strangers, the fun seekers and the scum bags; Roy J. Thomas was definitely a scum bag. I watched him as he sat at the corner table making drinking and making jokes giving others the impression that he was like the typical everyday folk you bump into on the street. The carefree attitude and friendly gestures fooled everyone...everyone but me. I am simply The Patient, not a name i use to introduce my self to others though seeing as i refrain from introductions altogether.
The Red troller Ale in my glass foamed up as i transferred it from my beer bottle all the while ensuring not take my eyes off Thomas. The 21 century Jack the ripper- as he was dubbed by the funny papers- swung his beer with his accomplices- the brothers.
The reference to Jack the ripper seemed almost accurate though as they were similar in their modus operandi. They both targeted only women and specialized in seizing their throats and strangling them until they were unconscious if not dead. He also cut the throat of the victims and did it in such a way that he prevented blood from gushing out rapidly and getting him messy. He also made other mutilations strictly from the right side of the victims body and he also took parts of the victim's organs as 'trophies'. What a sick piece of shit.
But on the other hand though there is a bit of twist to the comparison. Here i am watching him blend with the crowd when his so called name sake never even had as much as a picture. Oh shit, the head ache is kicking in again. The pain felt like a gun shot wound that has been left unattended to but i managed to keep it cool and draw attention to myself. I reached into my pocket to get those freaking pills of mine. I raised the transparent case to my eye level and saw that i had just two pills left.'Damn it', I swore under my breath; once again in an attempt to advert attention from myself. Thomas turned towards my direction and those blood shot eyes with the mild evidences of paranoiac told more than he had hoped to reveal. Constant usage of heroin, speed or methamphetamine in an attempt to take away the guilt and halt any trace of the emergence of the conscience. I scrutinized the four further in search any evidence of weaponry. None of them had a gun seeing as they wore t shits and their belts clung to their waists showing no evidence of obstruction. The brothers though had Bowie-class knives -probably of pattern welded steel- tucked into their right pockets judging from the outline formed on their perfect tailored slim-fit pants and the small piercings made by the tip of the blades. Thomas on the other hand had weapon on him probably from the fear of being intoxicated and causing futile deeds. The smoke from their cigar ashtray rose gracefully as i walked over to where they were seated.Out of courtsey, i politely nodded and smiled at them. " Mind if i join you?". Thomas glared at me and for a moment those eyes of his showed traces of familiarity. "Of course nothing could possibly go wrong" . An ironic statement seeing as everything was about to go wrong. I looked at my watched and the tim while at the same time watched the second hand moe continiously "Are you new here?". I raised my head and figured out that i should be striking a conversation at the moment seeing as i the one who had asked to take a sit here. A decisive question though, but i simply said yes.
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