Summary Block
This is example content. Double-click here and select a page to feature its content. Learn more
Summary Block
This is example content. Double-click here and select a page to feature its content. Learn more

Testi

Testi

Testi

Testi

Moribund Tales

Moribund Tales


Book excerpt

Internal Abduction

The night was filled with noise, an equal concoction of rapid sounds and vibrations described as music. It stirred the pain in my brain from the previous night of excessive indulgence. The foundations of every home and office building for miles around were shaking from the thunderous bass emanating from the local nightclub. Two women, in their early twenties, emerged from inside this modern temple of Dionysus. I made a point of brushing against the pretty brunette who was engaged in hysterical conversation.

The medieval city of Rochester that had once been a prestigious and historically significant location was now reduced to nothing more than a vulture’s hunting ground. The streets were tyrannized by lowlifes and hooligans. No one was safe anymore. The local citizens barricaded themselves inside their homes, not venturing out once the darkness swooped over the city and the night time mob arrived to indulge in all kinds of perverse activities. Times were spiralling out of control. The inhabitants, initiated to more desperate measures, were willing to sell their own souls for profit.

My eccentric roommate, Sean, told me about a local medical lab where he submitted himself for prescription drug experimentation. The number of students choosing to follow that path was increasing daily. Of course, it was a risk to your health, but it paid well. We live in challenging times.

I turned right into a shady road, towards the location of my experimental trial. The late night appointment had already made me a little suspicious. According to Sean’s instructions, the medical lab was situated behind an industrial park in a deserted alley. In this deranged city, stricken with poverty and fear, most folk were willing to commit murder for a handful of change. I hastened my step as the smell of paranoia invaded the atmosphere. Someone was watching me.

At my feet, I observed an undisturbed puddle reflecting the full moon that was decorating the heavens. Before me, an abandoned wasteland stretched out into the distance. I felt invisible knots gripping my insides, pulling them tight. A sudden tremor resurrected the still water from its contented slumber, making it evident that something was on my trail.

The area was populated with twisted vagabonds. I hesitated and extracted my mobile, dialling imaginary digits. “Sean!” I said flamboyantly. “Wait for me outside the building. I’m almost there.” I said these words as confidently as I could in order to warn any potential assailants that there was someone expecting me. The fact I was out of credit meant the conversation was rather one sided.

The desire to turn my head suddenly became irresistible. Scaling the scenery behind me, I listened ardently for any suspicious activity. Saliva was absent from my dry mouth. I felt my heartbeat quicken as my eyes searched for something dangerously close. My instinct was warning me that something meant me harm.

I suddenly collided with something massive. A cloth that was soaked with some kind of narcotic was pushed into my face. The desired effect was immediate. The fumes paralyzed my brain, and my knees crumbled as I floated into unconsciousness.

The water from a broken pipe above my head gradually revived me. I was on the ground. The earth was damp and arctic. Pain played with my mind in a staccato rhythm. Crawling on debilitated knees, I tried to find something to help me to my feet. Although my view was still obscured by the effects of the drugs, I came to realise that I was in the curve of a murky, unlit road.

Whoever inflicted this upon me must have dragged me into the darkness. Why? For what purpose?

My black winter coat and denim jeans were drenched while my frame shivered beyond control. If only the raging agony in my temples would cease! What the hell has happened to me?!

Visions of the assault gradually began skulking back. Yes, I was attacked… but not in a traditional manner. The assailants didn’t demand my valuables at gun-or knifepoint. I was shocked to discover that none of my possessions had been stolen. My mobile and wallet were still in my pocket. What was the point? What were they after?

Terror seized my limbs. The trauma of the ordeal clawed at my senses. Going to the lab in this condition was inadvisable. The logical destination was the police station, but what viable fruit would my revelation bear? I was attacked, but there were no signs of physical damage.

I felt an unfamiliar sensation deep within. Something was missing. Something did assault me. The motive remained a puzzle. Who were these fiends?

The city’s mechanical fumes contaminated the atmosphere while I limped along the foul sidewalk. The night chilled me to the core as a gang of dubious adolescents conspired on the corner. The nausea increased as a metallic flavour invaded my mouth. Was this the aftermath of the toxic chemical I was compelled to inhale?

Perspiration rose to the surface of my features as I vomited over the side of a bridge into the river below. The drivers that passed me made rude gestures or honked in amusement, miscalculating my mysterious symptoms for those of an ordinary drunkard. My determination faded, and oblivion snatched me as I collapsed to the ground.

I was woken by an intense light being shined in my eyes, forcing me to open them. And there was an overwhelming scent of bleach. Had the monsters returned to dispose of me?

A man in a white coat positioned himself on the edge of the bed. The protruding bags under his eyes betrayed his antiqued age.

“I’m Dr. Mahapatra. How are you feeling?”

“Where am I?”

“St. Margaret’s hospital,” he replied. “You were found on Rochester Bridge.”

The memory of my unexpected collapse gradually resurfaced. I wondered if these thoughts would help me recall further details about the attack. This might be a blessing in disguise, considering whoever assaulted me still lurked within the city. What if they ambushed someone else?

“You know,” the doctor began, in a concerned tone, “a man in your condition should really take better care of himself.”

This declaration puzzled me. What did he mean? I was in sensational shape. I’m in the peak of health. Illness never plagues me for any length of time.

“What exactly are you referring to, doctor?”

He levelled his eyes to mine and countered with a question. “You mean you’re unaware of your condition?”

This doctor was absurd. “Yes, I’m completely oblivious to my condition!”

“Well, according to our medical report, it seems your sudden collapse was caused by exhaustion and a lack of rest. The procedure you underwent is serious. It takes time before your body can heal and adjust.”

I observed the pale ceiling above me and shook my head in disbelief. What on earth was he talking about?

“I don’t understand,” I said. “I haven’t had any surgery!”

The doctor appeared equally mystified. “You do realize that one of your kidneys has been removed? And judging by the softness of the scar it happened very recently, perhaps only hours ago. You should have been in hospital for at least a week.”

I felt the blood drain from my face.

“What’s the name of the hospital that performed the operation?” the Doctor asked. “I’m rather concerned about your situation. How did you end up on that bridge?”

My overloaded brain was striving to process all the information that it had just obtained. The doctor’s features turned from concern to horror as he noticed the shock on my face.

Instinctively, I lifted my hospital gown and beheld an elongated scar spreading from my right to my dorsum. It looked raw and sloppy. An operation performed impetuously. At last, I was able to comprehend the full purpose of the assault. They were not hunting for money. They were searching for internal organs. My god! What have they done to me?

In The Blog

Best Gothic Literature

The Path Of Dreams

The Path Of Dreams

The Pariahs

The Pariahs