CHAPTER 27
The Boy
He fought to get his eyes back open, but they kept slipping closed again. It was peaceful here, and he wanted to sleep, but something nagged at him — something he had wanted to do before falling asleep. He imagined reaching up and pushing his eyelids open with this fingers. That worked — he was able to see, and blinked the world back into focus.
“You are certainly a fighter,” said the man who sat next to the boy’s right hip.
The boy wanted to rub his eyes, but looked down and saw that his arms were tied down — strapped to the chair. It felt like every time he opened his eyes he had to re-learn everything he knew about the world.
“Too bad you didn’t fight more earlier,” continued the man. He looked at his watch and adjusted a dial on the side of the timepiece.
“I, thought. I thought you were,” stammered the boy. “I… you were.”
“Yes, I told you it was over. Don’t worry, I didn’t lie again,” said the man. “I’m just waiting on someone, and I expected they would be here by now.”
“Who?” asked the boy. He felt the need for more information. He thought maybe if he understood what was going on, he would be able to save himself.
“Don’t worry about it,” said the man. He looked up and stared into the boy’s eyes. “By the way,” he said, “I never really introduced myself.”
“Some people call me ‘Baal.’ That’s if they see me as half-man and half-animal,” the man explained. “When I was your age, people called me Jack, and I was once in a situation remarkably similar to yours.”
“Really?” asked the boy.
“That’s right. But that was over thirty years ago. I was strapped to a chair, just like that, and a killer tattooed my leg while he prepared to kill me,” said Jack. “I still have the tattoo. I’d show it to you, but it’s really hard to see. It’s white ink.”
“How’d you get away?” prompted the boy.
“My friend saved me,” answered Jack. He sounded distracted as he looked at his watch again. When he looked up at the boy again, he was smiling. “Okay, sorry, time’s up.”
Jack reached up to the IV bag connected to the boy’s arm and dialed it all the way open.
“My… friend?” the boy slurred. Suddenly his fingertips and toes felt like they were being stung by bees. He tried to jerk away from the sensation, but his limbs wouldn’t work. His lips began to tingle and his left ear heard a crashing wave, but his right only heard his own breathing.
Before the boy’s hearing failed completely, he heard Jack say one more thing: “Goodbye.”
His right eye closed and his left lid was falling. Just as he lost his vision he thought he saw the door behind Jack open. It didn’t matter any more. Seconds later the boy’s heart beat for the last time.
The End
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What people are saying about
“Take two quarts of idyllic boyhood summer vacation and mix in two quarts of dark psychological thriller, and you’ve got yourself a gallon of seriously spooky paint called ‘The Vivisectionist’. The characters and settings really come alive through Hamill’s writing, and found myself seeing each scene clearly in my mind.”
“I couldn't put it down. At the end of each chapter when I promised myself I would put it down and go to sleep, I couldn’t, I had to find out what happened next, the whole time curled up at the top of my bed tense to see what would happen.”
Special Thanks:
Emilio Millan
Chris Wallace
Dan Moran
Terry Baldwin
Marydale Abernathy
Tom Bruns
Cynthia Hamill
Alex Sheftel
Brian Holdt
Cover art by Chris Wallace
Illustrations by Dan Moran
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and events have been fabricated only to entertain. If they resemble any facts in any way, I'd be completely shocked. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without the consent of Ike Hamill. Unless, of course, you intend to quote a section of the book in order to illustrate how awesome it is. In that case, go ahead. Copyright © 2012 by Ike Hamill. All rights reserved.
Ike Hamill
