Michael Smalls
08-09-2012, 11:08 AM
These are two short stories from a new series I'm working on about the relationship between the main character, Henk Wilson (adopted by the American Wilson Family, formerly Henk Fleischer of Germany), and his sister Sue Wilson who resents and hates him. The man, though it is not yet revealed in the story, is Bi-Polar, and, mentioned in the story, suffers the condition often referred to as the Supermale Syndrome, in that he has an extra male chromosome resulting in epic body-size and strength. The effect of the Bi-Polar Disorder gives him, as a man, at least, an intense craving for knowledge, and he has a higher IQ than most people and most "smart" people. This man is nice, but a monster is inside of him. Oh, and the whole series is written backwards. Chapter or Part One is the end of the story, and the last part of the series is the beginning of the story. Oh, and I tried to give him a german accent in the way you all read it, what with the v's, z's, haff's, and und's...
Henk Und Sue - Epilogue - Chapter One
Sunday, November 3rd, 1984
Just outside the Hamptons’ Estates in New York, America.
“Heeeeeeeeeeeenk und Sue!”
“Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeenk uuuuund SUE!”
“Henk, und, Sueeeeeeee...”
“Henk, shut the **** up.” said Sue, coming into the padded cell that was the ‘living room’.
Henk smiled a big, toothless grin, and said, “Vhy you soooo ungry, Sue? You need to leht go, sometimes, Beeg Sees!”
“I’m not your sister. You were adopted. When I was 20.” She looked at him with disgust, but he just smiled even bigger.
“Tut, tut, Sue. Ze parunts vould not be verhy happy to see zis behaviour!”
He paused, looking thoughtfully at the padded ceiling.
“Brink me my cot, seester, I haff to go outside.”
She looked at him incredulously. Never once had he acknowledged that there was anything outside this room. Nor had he made any attempts to find out or to leave.
She said, as patiently and as kindly as she could, “Henk, what exactly do you need to go ‘outside’ for? Everything you know and love is in here.”
“Nein. Everyzing is not here, seester. Mutti and Papi are dead. You leaf me to see your husbund und kids for tventy hours each day. Und ze nurses haff a smoke break lahsting two hours every hour.”
She was shocked at this sudden knowledge, at least, sudden to her, that he had of everything that was happening, that she was positive had never reached the confines of this room, and all the walls and doors and windows were noise-proof.
She asked again, “But what do you have to go outside for?”
“I vant vun more luk at ze sky befohr goink back to sleep.”
She didn’t know what to make of this, so she asked, “Henk, have you all ready been out before today?”
He smiled, and nodded. Then he said something she wasn’t expecting.
“I vas zere, seester, vhen you keeled zem. I know you did not approve of zeir luff for me. You zought zat zey luffed me more zan you. You ahr such a fool, Sue.”
She was speechless. He continued.
“Und now I haff to do somezing zat our parunts vant me to do. You must undurrstand, Sue, I do not vish to do zis. But Mutti und Papi vant zis done. Goodbye.”
Henk punched his fairly thick and strong right index finger into her skull and smiled as no blood came and she dropped to the floor, dead. He then, summoning the strength that had been building through all this time, punched the wall in front of him five times until it gave way and there was a hole to the outside. He then turned back to Sue’s body and picked it up as though it was light as air. He carried the body with one hand, out into the dark forest.
It was fifteen minutes later when he found his parents’ grave in the cemetery just on the other side of the woods. He proceeded to undress both himself and his sister to the underwear, and then laid his sister’s body overtop of his mother’s grave, and lay himself down overtop his father’s grave. He turned to his sister and gently closed her eyes. Then, he took the last breath he would ever take, held it in, and died.
-------
Henk Und Sue - Chapter Two
Monday, February 19th, 1980
Charles Mont. Insane Asylum, Hamptons, New York, America.
“I just don’t know about this place, Sue. Your mother and I don’t really feel that Henk needs this kind of ‘help’ at this point. I mean, he’s not crazy, he just has a few issues--”
Sue wilson cut her father, George Wilson, short. “A few issues that are far too much for you and Mom to worry about at this stage in your life. You guys are both facing retirement and you simply cannot have this many worries at your age!”
Her mother, Lucinda Wilson, who had stayed quiet throughout the whole car ride from Manhattan, spoke up, “George, she is kind of right. I mean, we can’t keep up with Henk, we are having trouble with keeping the energy up.”
“But Lucy, he’s our son, we can’t just commit him to one of,” he tossed his hands in the air with a disgusted look, “These kinds of places.” She looked at him blankly and he continued, “Look, I’ve seen the documentaries, I’ve seen the news reports, if someone who is misunderstood instead of insane, like the people here, is put into one of these places, chances are he will never come out again, and his health will just deteriorate...”
Sue scoffed, “Dad, those are just rumours, they’re not true. In fact, I know a girl who’s father went into an institution and was released in perfect health two months later,” she lied, “And he was much worse-off than my ‘brother’.” She said the last word with just the tiniest hint of resentment.
“Rumours, my ***, ‘scuse the french. Look, Sue, we can’t just dump him, he’s our son, your brother, and point blank family. I don’t think this is a good idea.”
Lucinda cleared her throat, looked at the both of them and shook her head with tears in her eyes, “George, darling, I love Henk, I love him so much, and I love you, equally. But Sue is right, we can’t keep this up. I’m sorry, George, baby, sweetie, but I think we have to commit him.”
George looked at her in disbelief, wiped his eyes, and nodded.
Monday, February 26th, 1980
Charles Mont. Insane Asylum, Hamptons, New York, America.
“Hello, Henk, my name is Dr. Richards, and I am the chief psychiatrist here.” Dr. Richards, a tall, blond, bespectacled British man, had seemingly kind eyes that, Henk noticed, had a black sparkle to them, and talked in a gentle, soft voice, as though he was your best friend in the world and you had fallen deathly ill. “This room is a Living Room, and it is yours specifically for however long you are here.” He gestured his hands to the stark-white, padded room around them, which had several shelfs of classic popular books, a TV set, a music system, and a neat, comfy-looking double bed. “You can relax and have fun at any time you want in this room. There is also a full gym, but, by the looks of you, you probably won’t need it!” He laughed a jolly chuckle.
Henk looked at him, and realized then that this was no helping doctor, that this was the chief warden of a cold, sterile, white prison, and that he would most likely die here. He looked down at the doctor and smiled a sad smile, then opened his lips and grinned.
Dr. Richards literally jumped in fright. The face above him was one unlike he had ever seen. Vibrant green eyes, looking as though they belonged to a beast; a gigantic jaw, that of a giant, with many small, impeccably white, sharp teeth; and the skin was the worst, with this gigantic face stretched to all proportions, the skin looked like white leather, but at such a thin thickness that the doctor could see the veins and the raw flesh beneath them through the skin. This was a monster telling him something, something sinister.
“Herr Doktor, tell me somezing. Haff you ever felt like you verr goink to die?” The doctor shook his head forcefully. “Vell, vhen I enterred zis room, I knew I vas goink to die in zis room. Unk I am. But now you know somezing eekvully important, don’t you?” The doctor nodded fearfully. “Let me hear you say it. Say it, Herr Doktor, tell me vhat you know of me. Ze vun zing zat you know, of me.”
The doctor said, shakily, “You are going to kill me, aren’t you?”
Henk shook his head. “On ze right track, but a leetle wrong, Herr Doktor. I vill not kill you. But vhile I am in zis prison, you vill die. Oh, but you are so young! You are here trapped viz me, und if you leef, vell, let’s just say it von’t be gud.”
Dr. Richards picked up his briefcase, his clipboard and walked briskly out the room, walked to his office, locked the door, closed the windows and opened his top left drawer of his desk. There was his “safety precaution”, a pistol for if and when one of the patients went wild. He only ever had one bullet though, and had never used it for that reason. He sat down, picked up the pistol, cocked it, put it in his mouth, and pulled the trigger.
Henk Und Sue - Epilogue - Chapter One
Sunday, November 3rd, 1984
Just outside the Hamptons’ Estates in New York, America.
“Heeeeeeeeeeeenk und Sue!”
“Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeenk uuuuund SUE!”
“Henk, und, Sueeeeeeee...”
“Henk, shut the **** up.” said Sue, coming into the padded cell that was the ‘living room’.
Henk smiled a big, toothless grin, and said, “Vhy you soooo ungry, Sue? You need to leht go, sometimes, Beeg Sees!”
“I’m not your sister. You were adopted. When I was 20.” She looked at him with disgust, but he just smiled even bigger.
“Tut, tut, Sue. Ze parunts vould not be verhy happy to see zis behaviour!”
He paused, looking thoughtfully at the padded ceiling.
“Brink me my cot, seester, I haff to go outside.”
She looked at him incredulously. Never once had he acknowledged that there was anything outside this room. Nor had he made any attempts to find out or to leave.
She said, as patiently and as kindly as she could, “Henk, what exactly do you need to go ‘outside’ for? Everything you know and love is in here.”
“Nein. Everyzing is not here, seester. Mutti and Papi are dead. You leaf me to see your husbund und kids for tventy hours each day. Und ze nurses haff a smoke break lahsting two hours every hour.”
She was shocked at this sudden knowledge, at least, sudden to her, that he had of everything that was happening, that she was positive had never reached the confines of this room, and all the walls and doors and windows were noise-proof.
She asked again, “But what do you have to go outside for?”
“I vant vun more luk at ze sky befohr goink back to sleep.”
She didn’t know what to make of this, so she asked, “Henk, have you all ready been out before today?”
He smiled, and nodded. Then he said something she wasn’t expecting.
“I vas zere, seester, vhen you keeled zem. I know you did not approve of zeir luff for me. You zought zat zey luffed me more zan you. You ahr such a fool, Sue.”
She was speechless. He continued.
“Und now I haff to do somezing zat our parunts vant me to do. You must undurrstand, Sue, I do not vish to do zis. But Mutti und Papi vant zis done. Goodbye.”
Henk punched his fairly thick and strong right index finger into her skull and smiled as no blood came and she dropped to the floor, dead. He then, summoning the strength that had been building through all this time, punched the wall in front of him five times until it gave way and there was a hole to the outside. He then turned back to Sue’s body and picked it up as though it was light as air. He carried the body with one hand, out into the dark forest.
It was fifteen minutes later when he found his parents’ grave in the cemetery just on the other side of the woods. He proceeded to undress both himself and his sister to the underwear, and then laid his sister’s body overtop of his mother’s grave, and lay himself down overtop his father’s grave. He turned to his sister and gently closed her eyes. Then, he took the last breath he would ever take, held it in, and died.
-------
Henk Und Sue - Chapter Two
Monday, February 19th, 1980
Charles Mont. Insane Asylum, Hamptons, New York, America.
“I just don’t know about this place, Sue. Your mother and I don’t really feel that Henk needs this kind of ‘help’ at this point. I mean, he’s not crazy, he just has a few issues--”
Sue wilson cut her father, George Wilson, short. “A few issues that are far too much for you and Mom to worry about at this stage in your life. You guys are both facing retirement and you simply cannot have this many worries at your age!”
Her mother, Lucinda Wilson, who had stayed quiet throughout the whole car ride from Manhattan, spoke up, “George, she is kind of right. I mean, we can’t keep up with Henk, we are having trouble with keeping the energy up.”
“But Lucy, he’s our son, we can’t just commit him to one of,” he tossed his hands in the air with a disgusted look, “These kinds of places.” She looked at him blankly and he continued, “Look, I’ve seen the documentaries, I’ve seen the news reports, if someone who is misunderstood instead of insane, like the people here, is put into one of these places, chances are he will never come out again, and his health will just deteriorate...”
Sue scoffed, “Dad, those are just rumours, they’re not true. In fact, I know a girl who’s father went into an institution and was released in perfect health two months later,” she lied, “And he was much worse-off than my ‘brother’.” She said the last word with just the tiniest hint of resentment.
“Rumours, my ***, ‘scuse the french. Look, Sue, we can’t just dump him, he’s our son, your brother, and point blank family. I don’t think this is a good idea.”
Lucinda cleared her throat, looked at the both of them and shook her head with tears in her eyes, “George, darling, I love Henk, I love him so much, and I love you, equally. But Sue is right, we can’t keep this up. I’m sorry, George, baby, sweetie, but I think we have to commit him.”
George looked at her in disbelief, wiped his eyes, and nodded.
Monday, February 26th, 1980
Charles Mont. Insane Asylum, Hamptons, New York, America.
“Hello, Henk, my name is Dr. Richards, and I am the chief psychiatrist here.” Dr. Richards, a tall, blond, bespectacled British man, had seemingly kind eyes that, Henk noticed, had a black sparkle to them, and talked in a gentle, soft voice, as though he was your best friend in the world and you had fallen deathly ill. “This room is a Living Room, and it is yours specifically for however long you are here.” He gestured his hands to the stark-white, padded room around them, which had several shelfs of classic popular books, a TV set, a music system, and a neat, comfy-looking double bed. “You can relax and have fun at any time you want in this room. There is also a full gym, but, by the looks of you, you probably won’t need it!” He laughed a jolly chuckle.
Henk looked at him, and realized then that this was no helping doctor, that this was the chief warden of a cold, sterile, white prison, and that he would most likely die here. He looked down at the doctor and smiled a sad smile, then opened his lips and grinned.
Dr. Richards literally jumped in fright. The face above him was one unlike he had ever seen. Vibrant green eyes, looking as though they belonged to a beast; a gigantic jaw, that of a giant, with many small, impeccably white, sharp teeth; and the skin was the worst, with this gigantic face stretched to all proportions, the skin looked like white leather, but at such a thin thickness that the doctor could see the veins and the raw flesh beneath them through the skin. This was a monster telling him something, something sinister.
“Herr Doktor, tell me somezing. Haff you ever felt like you verr goink to die?” The doctor shook his head forcefully. “Vell, vhen I enterred zis room, I knew I vas goink to die in zis room. Unk I am. But now you know somezing eekvully important, don’t you?” The doctor nodded fearfully. “Let me hear you say it. Say it, Herr Doktor, tell me vhat you know of me. Ze vun zing zat you know, of me.”
The doctor said, shakily, “You are going to kill me, aren’t you?”
Henk shook his head. “On ze right track, but a leetle wrong, Herr Doktor. I vill not kill you. But vhile I am in zis prison, you vill die. Oh, but you are so young! You are here trapped viz me, und if you leef, vell, let’s just say it von’t be gud.”
Dr. Richards picked up his briefcase, his clipboard and walked briskly out the room, walked to his office, locked the door, closed the windows and opened his top left drawer of his desk. There was his “safety precaution”, a pistol for if and when one of the patients went wild. He only ever had one bullet though, and had never used it for that reason. He sat down, picked up the pistol, cocked it, put it in his mouth, and pulled the trigger.