Jerry Meets Dr. Satan

I awoke strapped to an operating table of sorts. My head was throbbing. Some asshole hit me over the head and dragged me down here. Otis! That stupid mother fucking albino bastard! I tried to get a good look in the dimly lit room. It smelled of death, decay, and blood. I began to not want to see Dr. Satan. If this was some sort of cruel joke, then it had gone on long enough. I tried to call out for my friends; Mary, Bill and Denise to no avail. My throat was parched dry and I was afraid to call out to them, if they were indeed hiding and trying to figure a way to get me out of my predicament then would it be wise to draw attention to them? It wasn't long before I hear a door open and see an older lanky man that looked like death reanimated. His eyes were a hellish yellow and fixed upon me. He had metal braces on his legs helping him to walk. A respirator covered the lower part of his face. He came to me and said something. It was muffled and it may have been Old German or who knows. I could make one thing out very clearly though. "there is only death and blood here." I began to struggle against my restraints. This was HIM. The guy I was so desperate to meet. Dr. Quentin Quale. Or otherwise known as Dr. Satan.

I began to remember what the clown at the gas station had told us. How he did experiments on the living when he was an intern at the Whispering Willows facility. No anathetic was used. He mutters something else and one of his experiments that use to be human from what I guessed lumbers forward to hand the doctor his tools. I shrink back. Very carefully he unbuttons my shirt and traces the knife downwards slowly. All I could do was cough up blood and try and cry out for help. Anybody. Any help would be a blessing, even from these poor freaks. The doctor continues to cut even deeper cutting past the first layer of skin to the muscle. He has the layers of skin peeled back and held in place with pins as he sets to work with more cutting. A fountain of blood ejects from my mouth and sprays the doctor. He pays no mind. He was a man that had done it all before and seen it all. And I was his latest experiment.

Doctor's Pov

The albino known as Otis brought the one called Jerry to me. He had said this man had wanted to desperately meet me. Now that he met me, if find it rather rude for him to not want to stay and get to know me. If this experiment survives longer than a week, then I will be a success. An experiment that required no food, no water to survive. One that will survive on basic instinct only. I slice into his stomach and surgically remove the stomach and attach the lower intestine and large one to the esophagus. Fusing them together. There. That takes care of the food part. I cut open his skull and remove part of the brain making him a brainless beast that can follow only simple orders. Feeding him a special mix of food was a bad idea. He vomited it back up along with a fountain of blood. So in conclusion, anything this experiment ate or drank would be brought back up. He gagged several times, and for a moment it sounded like he was going to vomit up his entire innards the way he was gurgling. He began to convulse as blood, and undigested matter I had served him began to flow from his mouth. Tilting him to the side I let the matter flow from him while I figured out what he could be used for next.

I glance at another of one of my experiments. It was nearly devoid of skin, genderless, and it glistened in the light. It too could follow simple commands. I did not remove its stomach being as I was studying how digestion really works. I leave the one called Jerry for a moment and glace at the two males sitting in front of the televison watching a looping commercial of Captain Spaulding. They each had some food in between them and were sloppily eating the mess. One of the experiments, a sexually violent male, who wore headgear to keep his head upright had his hand down his pants massaging himself as he looked at a naked picture of a female. He suddenly jumped from his seat, tore the picture form the wall, and shoved it down the front of his pants moaning erotically, the food dribbling from his mouth down his chest. I groan and shake my head. To me sexually violent people need help. Otis was sexually violent, if pressed, and it didn't take him long to exhibit his violence towards a woman whom he fancied and did not return his "affections." I hook up Jerry to heart moniters and make sure he is kept alive through the whole ordeal. I know he is in tremendous pain. But I refrain from using anesthetic because it will interfere in my studies. Only when saving someone's life within my family will I do that. Except in the case where I had to patch up Sydney. Had I used anesthetic on her, she would have died. It had to be an immediate patch up.

Jerry would be my greatest experiment ever. I go back and check his vitals. He is still vomiting blood but not as bad as before. I go over and touch him slightly to see the reaction when he opens his mouth and a great gush of blood shoots out in a gurgling stream. I curse. He had gotten blood, which was now a lumpy blackish color all over the front of my uniform, this was going to be difficult one at best. If I could not stop the blood vomiting, there would be problems.