Prompt Day #272: Do something really nasty with a liposuction device.
I don’t like the story. I like what I did with the liposuction, but I don’t like the story. So, skim it til you get to that part. That’s the good part anyways.
Thad and I were urban explorers. We blogged about it (anonymously of course). I took the pics, Thad would record a narrative that I would then transcribe. It was great, we were great and I loved him. Our followers occasionally sent us hot tips on abandoned places to check out. They loved us. We never wrote about where we would be on a particular night; couldn’t risk getting caught. It was perfect and we were unstoppable.
There was this old insane asylum a couple towns east of ours and Thad and I fantasized about getting in. Only, it had such a sordid past, the cops patrolled it relentlessly. We’d heard about plenty of break-ins and just as many arrests. We couldn’t take a chance. We would bide our time and wait. Before we got the chance, a plastic surgeon bought the building and began converting it into a private surgery center for the elite. We watched helplessly as our penultimate adventure plans went the way of brand new drywall and upscale furniture.
The surgery center opened and closed six months later amongst a myriad of sexual assault charges and reckless endangerment. It was unreal, the stories were almost unbelievable. This surgeon, up until the opening of the center, had been highly respected in his field. But the charges against him made Josef Mengele look like Patch Adams. We knew we had to get in there. Even with the facelift, the place held some nasty energy.
Thad decided the sooner we broke in, the better our chances to find something crazy. We knew it was wrong, we knew we were compromising a police investigation, but none of that mattered. What mattered was the blog.
Breaking in was easier then we’d expected. I suppose no one expected kids would ever dare this soon after a shut down. The first floor had been completely refinished. It was sleek and modern and absolutely pristine. We walked through it and found nothing of interest. There was however a key hanging on a hook in Dr. Crazy’s office that we suspected would unlock a door to the stairwell leading upstairs. Jackpot.
Nothing had been done on the second floor. The rooms here held dirty mattresses and dilapidated gurneys. I snapped pics as Thad dictated a spooky description of our finds. When we came to the first closed door, we looked at each other excitedly. There was an energy here, we could feel it emanating from the room. Thad opened the door.
“What the…” I began
“fuck.” Thad finished for me. The walls were draped in plastic and sitting in the center of the room was one of the gurneys like we saw in the other rooms. The straps though appeared new. There was no dry rot. Several machines wrapped around the head of the bed like a halo. One, I was pretty sure was a liposuction device. Thad picked up what looked like old fashioned headphones from a different console and held it up.
“I think this is an electric shock device.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me, “Wanna try it out?” I smacked him. I rolled my eyes. That’s how I noticed the mirror on the ceiling.
“What the hell?” I asked, pointing at it. Thad looked up.
“I think this is Dr. Strangelove’s kinky sex room” He said hopping up onto the bed. “I know you want to strap me down and have your way with me.” I laughed. I was snapping pictures of each device, the mirror, the plastic coated walls. I heard a muffled noise and whipped around. Thad had a ball gag in his mouth and strapped to his head. He’d strapped his feet to the gurney and was working on his left hand.
“Gross! Thad! Get that out of your mouth!” I yelled. But I was laughing. It was kind of sexy. I walked over and strapped his other hand down too. I picked up the recorder and began to dictate what I was about to do to him. I unzipped his pants and pulled him free. He was hard, pointed straight up to the mirror. I walked away, teasing him.
“I think I’ll check out this electroshock device, could be interesting.” I flirted. Thad started to scream, high pitched frantic throaty sounds that I misinterpreted as mock fear.
It wasn’t until the wheelchair rammed into the back of my knees and forced me to sit, that I figured out he was trying to warn me. I felt the needle prick my neck and Thad’s screams faded away. I woke up I don’t know how long after to Thad screaming. Had been screaming for a long time? I blinked away the blurry vision. Thad was still strapped down, the liposuction device was on, I could hear the roar of the machine, and there was a man standing over him. The man wore a surgical gown and mask. He had the long, thin metal cannula pointed at Thad’s penis. One hand held his otherwise flaccid penis while the surgeon jammed the thing into his urethra. The sounds coming from Thad were inhuman.
I stood up and abruptly fell. My legs refused to hold me. As I watched helplessly, the surgeon continued to cram the liposuction deep into Thad, much further than anyone could recover from. Thad’s voice dropped octaves as the canister filled up with what I assumed by the depth of the instrument in Thad’s dick was his guts, possibly his liver. The killer looked over the table at me.
“Oh, you fell out of your chair.” He said with sarcastic concern. He left the suction in Thad and came around the table. He picked up the electric shock head piece and set it on my head. He rolled me over.
“There, can you still see your boyfriend from down there?” he asked stepping over my body. “I’m going to turn this on, but at a low wattage so you can stay alert enough to enjoy his noises, although, I fear it won’t be long before I hit his aorta and the noises will cease.” He flipped the switch on the machine. A low rumbling wave rolled through me. I couldn’t get my hands up to my head to pull the head gear off. I didn’t think Thad was alive anymore. I couldn’t hear him making noise, although I’m not sure I would have heard him anyways.
I let the electricity take over, relaxing my body completely. I let myself flop about like a fish out of water, hoping the seizure like movements would knock the headband off. I heard the thud of Thad’s body hit the floor and then the buzzing in my body stopped. The buzzing in my ears continued though. I saw the surgeon bend down, his face six inches from mine, the bloody liposuction cannula was right under my nose.
“…they….lobotomies….but this would be….mummy.” I could only make out bits and pieces of what he was saying. “Stay there.” He said and laughed. He stepped over me once again and I craned my neck to watch him walk over to the machine. He pulled the tubing off the suction canister filled with Thad’s internal organs and moved it over to an empty one.
I had to do something. I had to. My legs were heavy with whatever muscle relaxer he’d given me, but my arms were just weak from the shocks. I looked over at Thad. His crotch was bloody and his stomach caved in abnormally. His mouth hung open like a fish. Oh Thad. This was such a bad idea. The sound of the machine starting up again snapped me back to the present situation. One of use was going to get out of here alive and it wasn’t about to be this crazy asshole. I reached above my head and turned the wheelchair around. I waited until he was making his turn back to me and I swung it with all my might in an arc towards his legs. He tripped and fell on top of me. The liposuction plunged into my upper arm. The suction shot pain throughout my arm. I had no time to think. He was already up on his hands and knees. I pulled the cannula out of me, blood flew up in a geyser of gore. He lifted his head and I rammed the suction through his eye and as deep into his brain as I could. I could hear the contents filling the canister with a thick mucky sound.
I left it there, I left Thad too. I had no choice. I guess our blogging days are over.