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SoulScape (standard:horror, 3798 words) | |||
Author: A.M. Snead | Added: Oct 21 2002 | Views/Reads: 3650/2620 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
When a psychiatrist's patient is put to death, he realizes that the evil is not dead, but just beginning to live. | |||
BLACK MOON COUNTY CORRECTIONAL FACILITY 1- Strapped securely to the gurney, Alec waited patiently for them to find a suitable vein in which to insert the catheter. The ceiling bulged and swelled above him, pressing down closer and closer. Alec knew it was simply a reaction of the barbiturate they had administered, so he payed it little mind except to become fascinated by it all. He didn't fear the death they were struggling to administer. Their fingertips pinched and prodded the inside of his right forearm and wrist, and for the fifth time inserted the needle tip. A faint smile twisted his lips as he barely felt the sharp prick. Though he didn't look at them, he could feel the medical workers' eyes flicker across his face like insect tentacles. He could feel their tension and anxiety at their inability to find a useful vein. He ignored them as they withdrew the needle again and moved to the other arm and began prodding the tender flesh. "Why the hell is he smiling like that?" One of the technicians muttered irritably with an edge of uneasiness. "It's frickin creepy." The other shook his head as his face pinched. "Ignore him." he said quietly, then swore softly as another insertion failed to take. Alec closed his eyes as gracefully as a baby falling asleep in its mother's arms and imagined the strange little man who had come to see him two days ago. Who, at this very moment, was in Alec's room back at the Asylum praying for Alec's soul. He thought of Dr. Frank Harlin and wondered if the man was watching this botched attempt to take his patient's life. But no, Harlin wasn't here. He was at the Asylum as well. Alec could feel the man's guilt like a telepathic wave, and he liked the sensations it gave him- like a million tiny fingertips massaging the surface of his skin. The catheter was finally in place, a wide strip of tape securing it. In a moment, one of the medical technicians would begin the Saline drip. Alec's eyes opened and settled on a plain, circular clock mounted high on the wall and began to subconsciously count the minutes. Why, exactly, was Dr. Frank Harlin suffering guilt? Oh yes, because of the woman. Dr. Kim Delaney. Alec's smile broadened. She had been so trusting of him to insist they be left alone, despite Harlin's objections. But she'd talked Harlin down and gotten her own way. Killing her hadn't even been a challenge, hardly fun at all. But there was more to his guilt than just the death of Dr. Delaney; Frank Harlin felt he had failed Alec as his doctor. Alec stared at the clock; almost five minutes ticked by since the Saline had been turned on. About ten minutes to go. He thought about his mother. It had been nearly twenty-five years since he last saw her, but her face was as clear as a bell in his mind. The wretched whore who had brought him to the Asylum. Sent him to hell while breath still swelled his five year old lungs. She'd become afraid of him, though she'd never admitted such things aloud. But he'd detected it too clearly in her eyes. She knew he wasn't right and wished to hide him from the world. She would be the first. His eyes followed the second hand. The technicians were beyond his vision, but he could still feel them in the room. Another few minutes and they would turn on the Sodium Thiopental, followed by the Pancuronium Bromide and Potassium Chloride. Approximately five minutes after the poisonous solution entered his bloodstream- Alec would be dead. He waited, welcoming. He could smell death hovering just outside the carnal realm, and that old Reaper had a sulfuric stench that stung the nostrils. Alec squinted and could almost see death's face- it was little more than a skull mottled with tendrils of rotted skin. It smiled darkly at him, but Alec just smiled back; the fool, the joke was on him. Because back at the Asylum, away from the death chamber, the priest was praying for Alec's soul. Click here to read the rest of this story (370 more lines)
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A.M. Snead has 15 active stories on this site. Profile for A.M. Snead, incl. all stories Email: WriteIt71@aol.com |