“Oh.” Ian lubricated the end of the tube and tried to push it into Nolan’s anus. “I can’t do this,” he said. “It’s, you know. He won’t cooperate.”
Ernest said to Caleb, “Make him cooperate.”
Caleb nodded and took the length of metal tubing, which resembled a thin toilet paper roll, from Ian. He pressed it against Nolan, pushing and twisting until it found its way inside his writhing body, tearing the soft, delicate tissue at the opening of his anus. Blood tricked onto the table. Ernest tossed Caleb a roll of duct tape and instructed him to secure the tube as best as he could.
Nolan screamed into his gag and bucked his legs, but Caleb pushed the tubing in further. “It’s secure,” Caleb said. To Ian he said, “Just think of him as a cadaver. Easier that way.”
“Good job,” Ernest said. He leaned over Nolan’s face. “I’m going to remove your gag now. I want to ask you a few questions.”
Nolan’s head bobbed like a float on a lake. Ernest removed the gag and Nolan screamed and begged for help. “Please!” he cried, lifting his head off the table. “It hurts! Take it out!”
Ernest stared at Nolan, a wry smile plastered on his face.
“You fucking psycho!” Nolan screamed.
Ernest stuffed the gag back in his mouth and clicked his tongue. “No use. He’s just gonna be an asshole. How predictable. Anyway, the interesting part’s coming up. I’ll do it myself but may need some help.”
He took a long thin metal tube—so thin it resembled a wire, but it was hollow, like the world’s most narrow beaker—from the utensil tray.
Moving to the end of the table, he took hold of Nolan’s penis, which failed to respond. “Grab it,” he said to Caleb.
“No way! Nipples were bad enough. I’m not touching his dick.”
“Look, dipshit, you’re pre-med. You think you’re never going to have to touch a dick? I didn’t ask you to suck it, just hold it. I told you, there’s nothing sexual about any of this.”
“You like bringing pre-med up a lot,” Caleb said. “Seems more like an excuse for you to play with this guy’s dick.” Looking away, he grabbed Nolan’s penis. It lay unresponsive in his hand.
“I need you both to hold him as still as you can. Ian, pin down his chest.”
Ernest grabbed Nolan’s penis and tried to push the metal rod into the urethra. Nolan screamed into his gag, his head thrown back, the veins in his neck straining beneath the skin. His body was coated in a fine layer of sweat, and the smell in the room was a mingling of metal, blood, and musk.
“Shit,” Ernest said, “hold him!” The rod kept slipping. Fitting it into the narrow urethra was more difficult than he had anticipated. “Get him hard,” he snapped at Caleb.
“You fuckin’ kidding me?” he yelled.
Finally, it slid inside his urethra. Ernest dropped Nolan’s penis and stood back, panting. Turning to the camera, he said, “Goddamn. Okay. All tubes are in place.”
Ian moved to the edge of the table. There was a small amount of blood on Nolan’s crotch. It terrified Ian … yet somehow it was exhilarating.
“Ready to begin,” Ernest said, grinning. He looked at Caleb and said, “Pick an orifice, any orifice.”
Caleb ran his hands through his hair and shook his head. “You’re seriously disturbed, man.”
He tossed Caleb a pair of heavy-duty work gloves. “We’ll start with the ass. That tube gets hot, so make sure you wear those. Hold the rod tight. Make sure it stays up his ass.”
Caleb nodded.
“It cools pretty fast,” Ernest said. “I considered putting him in water, but that would have been a real pain in the ass. Can you imagine if we’d had to start dragging bottles of water down here? That sink is useless.” Ernest dipped the metal spoon into the simmering molten metal and stirred.
“We should be able to get enough into the tube if we work fast, before he starts flopping around too much. Otherwise it’s just going to spill all over his legs.” He filled the ladle and held it up, steam rising, the smell of the metal stronger now. “We don’t want to get this on us. It’s more than two hundred degrees, so be careful. And work fast. Got it?”
Caleb nodded, getting a better grip on the thick tube protruding from Nolan’s ass. He affixed a large funnel to the end of the tubing. Ian stood off to the side, watching them with a transfixed expression of revulsion and horror.
“When I’m done, pull the tube out fast. Then cover up his asshole with the duct tape. Got it?” Ernest poured the contents of the ladle into the tube. Seconds later the liquid reached its intended destination and Nolan went berserk, flailing against the ropes, his agonized screams muffled against his gag. Moments later, he was still.
“He dead already?” Caleb blurted, pulling the metal rod out of Nolan’s ass, covering it with bandages and tape to keep the liquid from leaking out.
Using the stethoscope from the instrument tray, Ernest listened for a heartbeat. He shook his head. “No, not dead. Strong heartbeat.”
Ian dropped against the wall and buried his face in his hands. “Oh my god,” he croaked. “Oh my god.”
“Get a grip,” Ernest said. “We’re not through.” He removed the gag from Nolan’s mouth, and a trace of spit and vomit trailed away with the cloth.
“Now what?” Ian asked, choking back tears, trying not to cry.
Ernest picked up the smelling salts. “We continue with the experiment. Should we remove the blindfold now?” He didn’t wait for an answer.
“But …” Ian scratched his head and stepped forward. “But then he could identify us.”
The other two exchanged glances before turning back to Ian.
“What did you think was going to happen here?” Ernest asked. “He’s got a metal block up his ass. Did you think he was going to just walk away?”
Ian swallowed and shrugged.
“I told you earlier that this wasn’t going to end well.”
“Yeah, Ernest, but—”
“And you promised! You said you wanted to be part of this, that you would always be one of us. You swore along with Caleb and me, fucking told us we were your brothers!”
“I didn’t know you meant murder!”
Ernest looked at the floor before speaking, using a patronizing voice not unlike his father’s. “I told you this would be difficult. I told you this would end badly. I told you we would be sharing secrets for life. What about all of that didn’t you understand, you fucking idiot? What the fuck did you think I was referring to?”
“Come on, Ian,” Caleb said. “You’ve got to see Nolan for what he is. A non-person, just an asshole getting a free ride. He’s a leech, a guinea pig. He’s a goddamned lab rat.”
Ian looked from Ernest to Caleb and knew they planned to finish. Could he see Nolan as just a giant lab rat? He tried to justify what they were doing to the slab of meat on the butcher block table, hidden away somewhere in a room that reeked of damp, dead wine, a room lit by a naked bulb dangling by a single thin wire. The expressions on the faces of his fellow scientists were feral, somehow evil. They were enjoying this too much and would never need to justify their actions. Ian tried to reason that this was all for posterity, tried to forget that this was how Nolan would spend the last minutes of his pathetic life.
“Okay,” Ian whispered. “I’m with you.” He didn’t know whether or not he really meant it. For now, he did mean it. For now, he would stand with them.
Ernest handed him the notebook and pen. “Good. Let’s get going then. First entry was, say, 6:00 pm. Let’s see …” He played with the webbing between his thumb and index finger. “Level One. Subject gagged and blindfolded. Nipple clamps and insertion of rods and tubes. Slight bleeding. Subject … uncomfortable.
“Level Two. Jot down, like 6:45. Level Two, melted metal enema injected. Subject in extreme pain and passes out. I guess this is where we begin Level Three.”
Glancing at his watch, he said, “Blindfold and gag removed. Subject will be revived and questioned for response. Start Level Three at 7:00 pm.”
Ian wondered what sort of doctor Ernest would become and then remembered his particular fondness for forensic medicine.
Ernest continued his dictation. “About to revive subject.” Then he grinned. “Level Three. Wake the fucker up.”
