midnight writer
04-21-2010, 05:56 PM
This is the most recent story that I have finished. It's a concept I had been developing for a while, and I finally managed to get it down to just a few pages. Any criticism or critiquing would be greatly appreciated. Let me know what you think.
As Dr. Samuel Jacobs prepared to make a “Y” shape incision in the deceased man's chest cavity, a sudden feeling overcame him that he could not quite explain. He had performed literally thousands of autopsies, and never before had he felt such an inexplicable mixture of hesitation and guilt. Perhaps it was because that particular patient had been exhumed on a court order, even though the family had not agreed to it. Even so, Dr. Jacobs had performed autopsies under the same circumstances before. He held the razor sharp scalpel in his hand, now quivering and unsure what to do next. The deceased was 42 years old, brown hair, and lifeless blue eyes that looked like an ocean drained of all its water. His skin pale and chalky white, void of color and his expression a blank stare that seemed to burn a hole into Jacob's eye sockets as he stared at the man on the cold metal table before him.
His locked gaze on the man was broken by the sound of his assistant barreling through the wide double doors with another toe tagged delivery. Feet first, the young medical examiner dressed in scrubs, rolled the middle-aged woman into the room beside the man, her skin equally as white and pale as his. Dr. Jacobs stared at the overweight woman with long fiery red hair lying on the table, his focus now on her. He imagined them as being husband and wife, and he was the sadistic bastard who had interrupted their eternal rest with each other. Even with all the medical training and experience he had received, he could not justify nor shake off the feeling that crept over him.
“When it rains it pours, huh Sam?” His assistant, Jared, said to him in a casual way that to anyone else would have seemed cold and uncaring. To them however, it was a fact of every day life, a normal job duty that was to be carried out like anything else. Jacobs turned to his assistant and nodded, a frightened and confused look still clear in his facial features. His mouth slightly agape, his left eyebrow arched, and sweat still flowing profusely from his pores.
“You okay?”, Jared asked. “You seem a little bit on edge today. Need to take a break or something?”
“I'm fine,” Jacobs said flatly.
“If you want to take a break, I can get started on this one.” He gestured towards the man on the table that Jacobs had been leering at for what seemed like forever.
“No, I'll take care of that,” the doctor shot a panicked look in the direction of his assistant. “You go make sure all the paperwork is in order for today. There have been some mix ups lately and I don't want it happening again.”
“Okay,” Jared said, slightly hesitant to leave the room after seeing his colleague in such a disheveled state. He picked up a clipboard from on top of one of the counter tops and pushed past the double doors and out of the room.
The doctor took a long deep breath and drew it in for a long time before once again picking up the scalpel from the silver metal tray next to him. He felt the slim metal instrument in his hand, clammy with sweat. With one hand he lowered the sheet covering the man's face and brought it down to his waist. He lowered the scalpel to within inches of the sternum, and just as he was about to start the incision he heard a whisper in his ear that prompted him turn around as quickly as he could, holding the scalpel in front of his face out of fear. “Awake”, the voice whispered from the other direction. He whipped his head around again but nothing was there, except the two dead bodies which occupied the room.
“Who's there?” Jacobs demanded. “I heard that!” He swung his arm and cut the open air with the scalpel. He was sweating even more now, trembling, trying to breathe but the air that filled his throat didn't seem to reach down all the way into his lungs. It was a crushing feeling that he tried to ignore, but it was too powerful. He hobbled over to the other side of the room and bent over the sink, turning on the faucet to splash cold water in his face. It soaked into his skin and quickly dissolved. His breathing steadied and his body stopped convulsing with uncontrollable shaking. He put his hands over his eyes, rubbing them and turned around. When his eyelids opened and his vision returned, he almost fell to the ground when he saw that the man's body was no longer on the table. At first he did not know what to think. He simply stood there, his jaw hanging down and his expression a rictus of pure fear.
He slowly turned his head to look around the room. The only things he saw were the usual instruments of death lined up in neat rows, one of which he was holding in his hand. He gripped it firmly, holding it now as his weapon instead of a tool. As he took one small step forward in the large white room, the lump in his throat grew three times to the size of an apple. He turned towards the doors when he heard a crashing sound. They were swinging back and forth as if someone had just come in or left, yet nobody was there. He knew that his assistant would not be back for at least another hour, and nobody else was scheduled to work that day. He turned his head back, hoping that the nightmare would end and that the man's body would return to the table where it was supposed to be. Instead the woman's body was missing now as well. Jacobs was on the very edge of insanity, clenching his eyes shut to try to stop it all from continuing.
Jacobs put the scalpel in his lab coat pocket and started running, tripping over his own footsteps, past the doors and into the hallway. It was completely empty and he could not see any trace of life, or for that matter death. That wing of the hospital was short staffed on that particular day, and he did not know what to do next. He broke into a jog, flying down the empty corridor to the security desk. Nobody was there and his mind was racing back and forth, driving him mad. Again he heard the voice call him from the room he had just left in pursuit of help. “Awake”, the ghostly voice echoed in the empty hall. As frightened as he was, something in him could not resist walking back to the room. He shuffled along in a trance-like state, approaching the double doors. He stopped and looked in horror as he saw a bloody hand print on the circular window of one of the doors. He clenched his eyes shut again proceeded inside.
“Awake!” The voice shrieked, startling him so much his eyes shot open. In front of him stood the man and the woman, their body's dripping with blood. A heavy grimace lined their faces, staring at him intently. The man's face was one crumpled up expression of rage. His nostrils flared, breathing heavily and bearing his teeth like a wild animal. The woman seemed more sad than the man, the blood mixing inconspicuously into her dark red hair.
“Oh my God!” Jacobs screamed. “This can't be happening. It can't!” The room started spinning as he backed up, hitting the counter. He remembered the scalpel in his hand, swinging it wildly in their direction as they slowly began to approach him.
“We are awake.” The woman said, blood dripping from her mouth and splattering onto the floor in even drops. The man mimicked the woman, chanting the grizzly words over and over. Jacobs kept swinging the scalpel back and forth, lunging towards them a few inches. They kept staggering towards him, unfazed by his violent gestures.
“Please, stop. I didn't want to do it. I never meant to disturb you. I didn't want to wake you but they made me! It's my job.”
“You woke us,” both of them pointed to Jacobs accusingly, only a few feet away now. “It is your fault. Your fault.”
“No! It's not my fault. You were already dead.”
The man grabbed on to Jacob's arm and began pulling him towards the metal table where had suddenly disappeared from. “Let go of me!” He shouted, pleading for his life. The man's grip squeezed tighter around the doctor's arm and the woman latched on as well. Jacobs could feel himself being dragged closer to justice, inch by inch. He was going to become the subject of their torture and degradation. In a sudden burst of adrenaline, the doctor broke free of their hold, remembering the scalpel in the pocket of his coat. He began stabbing the man in his chest until he fell to the ground. He looked at the man for a moment in awe as his body completely vanished into thin air. He then looked up at the woman who had begun sobbing, her eyes two wet sorrowful pools. “What do you want?” He asked the woman as calmly as he could manage.
For a moment the walking female cadaver looked at Jacobs and in her face he could see his own despair and grief. Her pained expression and bloodshot eyes reflected his. She began walking towards him again and just as the doctor prepared to strike her with the scalpel like he had done to the man, she too vanished into nothing.
The scalpel fell to the floor and he collapsed against the counter on the side of the room. He closed his eyes again, the trembling and sweat subsiding. He could breathe normally again, and his body began to relax. When he finally opened his eyes, he was standing over the deceased man on the metal table with a scalpel in his hand. His assistant Jared walked in with a clipboard. “Sam, you haven't even started on the first body yet?”
As Dr. Samuel Jacobs prepared to make a “Y” shape incision in the deceased man's chest cavity, a sudden feeling overcame him that he could not quite explain. He had performed literally thousands of autopsies, and never before had he felt such an inexplicable mixture of hesitation and guilt. Perhaps it was because that particular patient had been exhumed on a court order, even though the family had not agreed to it. Even so, Dr. Jacobs had performed autopsies under the same circumstances before. He held the razor sharp scalpel in his hand, now quivering and unsure what to do next. The deceased was 42 years old, brown hair, and lifeless blue eyes that looked like an ocean drained of all its water. His skin pale and chalky white, void of color and his expression a blank stare that seemed to burn a hole into Jacob's eye sockets as he stared at the man on the cold metal table before him.
His locked gaze on the man was broken by the sound of his assistant barreling through the wide double doors with another toe tagged delivery. Feet first, the young medical examiner dressed in scrubs, rolled the middle-aged woman into the room beside the man, her skin equally as white and pale as his. Dr. Jacobs stared at the overweight woman with long fiery red hair lying on the table, his focus now on her. He imagined them as being husband and wife, and he was the sadistic bastard who had interrupted their eternal rest with each other. Even with all the medical training and experience he had received, he could not justify nor shake off the feeling that crept over him.
“When it rains it pours, huh Sam?” His assistant, Jared, said to him in a casual way that to anyone else would have seemed cold and uncaring. To them however, it was a fact of every day life, a normal job duty that was to be carried out like anything else. Jacobs turned to his assistant and nodded, a frightened and confused look still clear in his facial features. His mouth slightly agape, his left eyebrow arched, and sweat still flowing profusely from his pores.
“You okay?”, Jared asked. “You seem a little bit on edge today. Need to take a break or something?”
“I'm fine,” Jacobs said flatly.
“If you want to take a break, I can get started on this one.” He gestured towards the man on the table that Jacobs had been leering at for what seemed like forever.
“No, I'll take care of that,” the doctor shot a panicked look in the direction of his assistant. “You go make sure all the paperwork is in order for today. There have been some mix ups lately and I don't want it happening again.”
“Okay,” Jared said, slightly hesitant to leave the room after seeing his colleague in such a disheveled state. He picked up a clipboard from on top of one of the counter tops and pushed past the double doors and out of the room.
The doctor took a long deep breath and drew it in for a long time before once again picking up the scalpel from the silver metal tray next to him. He felt the slim metal instrument in his hand, clammy with sweat. With one hand he lowered the sheet covering the man's face and brought it down to his waist. He lowered the scalpel to within inches of the sternum, and just as he was about to start the incision he heard a whisper in his ear that prompted him turn around as quickly as he could, holding the scalpel in front of his face out of fear. “Awake”, the voice whispered from the other direction. He whipped his head around again but nothing was there, except the two dead bodies which occupied the room.
“Who's there?” Jacobs demanded. “I heard that!” He swung his arm and cut the open air with the scalpel. He was sweating even more now, trembling, trying to breathe but the air that filled his throat didn't seem to reach down all the way into his lungs. It was a crushing feeling that he tried to ignore, but it was too powerful. He hobbled over to the other side of the room and bent over the sink, turning on the faucet to splash cold water in his face. It soaked into his skin and quickly dissolved. His breathing steadied and his body stopped convulsing with uncontrollable shaking. He put his hands over his eyes, rubbing them and turned around. When his eyelids opened and his vision returned, he almost fell to the ground when he saw that the man's body was no longer on the table. At first he did not know what to think. He simply stood there, his jaw hanging down and his expression a rictus of pure fear.
He slowly turned his head to look around the room. The only things he saw were the usual instruments of death lined up in neat rows, one of which he was holding in his hand. He gripped it firmly, holding it now as his weapon instead of a tool. As he took one small step forward in the large white room, the lump in his throat grew three times to the size of an apple. He turned towards the doors when he heard a crashing sound. They were swinging back and forth as if someone had just come in or left, yet nobody was there. He knew that his assistant would not be back for at least another hour, and nobody else was scheduled to work that day. He turned his head back, hoping that the nightmare would end and that the man's body would return to the table where it was supposed to be. Instead the woman's body was missing now as well. Jacobs was on the very edge of insanity, clenching his eyes shut to try to stop it all from continuing.
Jacobs put the scalpel in his lab coat pocket and started running, tripping over his own footsteps, past the doors and into the hallway. It was completely empty and he could not see any trace of life, or for that matter death. That wing of the hospital was short staffed on that particular day, and he did not know what to do next. He broke into a jog, flying down the empty corridor to the security desk. Nobody was there and his mind was racing back and forth, driving him mad. Again he heard the voice call him from the room he had just left in pursuit of help. “Awake”, the ghostly voice echoed in the empty hall. As frightened as he was, something in him could not resist walking back to the room. He shuffled along in a trance-like state, approaching the double doors. He stopped and looked in horror as he saw a bloody hand print on the circular window of one of the doors. He clenched his eyes shut again proceeded inside.
“Awake!” The voice shrieked, startling him so much his eyes shot open. In front of him stood the man and the woman, their body's dripping with blood. A heavy grimace lined their faces, staring at him intently. The man's face was one crumpled up expression of rage. His nostrils flared, breathing heavily and bearing his teeth like a wild animal. The woman seemed more sad than the man, the blood mixing inconspicuously into her dark red hair.
“Oh my God!” Jacobs screamed. “This can't be happening. It can't!” The room started spinning as he backed up, hitting the counter. He remembered the scalpel in his hand, swinging it wildly in their direction as they slowly began to approach him.
“We are awake.” The woman said, blood dripping from her mouth and splattering onto the floor in even drops. The man mimicked the woman, chanting the grizzly words over and over. Jacobs kept swinging the scalpel back and forth, lunging towards them a few inches. They kept staggering towards him, unfazed by his violent gestures.
“Please, stop. I didn't want to do it. I never meant to disturb you. I didn't want to wake you but they made me! It's my job.”
“You woke us,” both of them pointed to Jacobs accusingly, only a few feet away now. “It is your fault. Your fault.”
“No! It's not my fault. You were already dead.”
The man grabbed on to Jacob's arm and began pulling him towards the metal table where had suddenly disappeared from. “Let go of me!” He shouted, pleading for his life. The man's grip squeezed tighter around the doctor's arm and the woman latched on as well. Jacobs could feel himself being dragged closer to justice, inch by inch. He was going to become the subject of their torture and degradation. In a sudden burst of adrenaline, the doctor broke free of their hold, remembering the scalpel in the pocket of his coat. He began stabbing the man in his chest until he fell to the ground. He looked at the man for a moment in awe as his body completely vanished into thin air. He then looked up at the woman who had begun sobbing, her eyes two wet sorrowful pools. “What do you want?” He asked the woman as calmly as he could manage.
For a moment the walking female cadaver looked at Jacobs and in her face he could see his own despair and grief. Her pained expression and bloodshot eyes reflected his. She began walking towards him again and just as the doctor prepared to strike her with the scalpel like he had done to the man, she too vanished into nothing.
The scalpel fell to the floor and he collapsed against the counter on the side of the room. He closed his eyes again, the trembling and sweat subsiding. He could breathe normally again, and his body began to relax. When he finally opened his eyes, he was standing over the deceased man on the metal table with a scalpel in his hand. His assistant Jared walked in with a clipboard. “Sam, you haven't even started on the first body yet?”