Excision
08.26.10
The girl on the makeshift operating table stares up at me, pleading, her eyes bulging partly through fear and partly because she is trying to scream through a mouthful of gauze. The muffled sound that escapes her is not even loud enough to be heard over the other voices. After I kill her, her voice will join them and I will hear her loud and clear, along with all the others.
Butcher!
Killer!
Bastard!
Alkie!
I can’t argue with them – I am all these things. I walk up to the table, ignoring the girl. I check that I have all the instruments I need for the excision, and that they are all clean. Even though my alcoholism led me to be struck from the medical register, I still make sure that my equipment is properly sterile; some habits die hard.
As I approach her, the girl tries to move, but there is no fear of that. I have bound her too securely to the table. After all, it would not do for my scalpel to slip. I make the incision with a motion so smooth it astonishes me – though why should it? I made sure to drink half a bottle of scotch: just the right amount to calm the shakes, but not enough to impair my judgement. I was an alcoholic for five years before they struck me off and only made one mistake during that time. It was enough for them to kick me out of the profession of course, my past good work quickly forgotten after the incident. Had they been more understanding – offered me treatment perhaps – then maybe it wouldn’t have come to this.
It was a year later that I made make my first kill. The job had helped me keep my head above water; I was a drunk, but a functional one. It was only in the privacy of my own home that I would really let loose and drink myself into a stupor. Once I was struck off, I let the scotch take me down that spiral all the way to the bottom. Unemployed and unemployable, about to be evicted from the bedsit I rented, I was unable to turn down the opportunity when it presented itself.
I saw through the breastbone and the girl faints from shock and the pain, which is just as well. I don’t actually want to cause her pain, I just need her living heart and do not have the luxury of an anaesthetist. I crack open her ribcage and admire the heart that I have exposed – a healthy, perfect young heart. I go through the motions of disconnecting it from the arteries that keep it beating and place it in the container that sits on the floor, by my feet. My patient bleeds out before she can come to, and I change out of my scrubs and leave the room carrying the container, the heart on ice inside it.
In the next room, the man is waiting for me, as he always does. I hand him the container, and he hands me an envelope. I quickly count the bills inside it, nod, and we both head on our way – he to a helicopter on the roof, I to the comfort of the rest of the bottle. I think, as I always do, about the surgeon at the other end of this transaction. I doubt he has been struck off, and I am sure he won’t be an alcoholic. He probably doesn’t hear the voices, either. I wonder, when he patches up his rich patient with a heart that works, whether somewhere, deep inside, he realises he is as much a murderer as I am.
Related Posts:
Tags: Addiction, Flash Fiction, fridayflash, Horror, Murder, Surgeon, Writing
Ouch, you reminded me of @LexxClake’s MC, although yours is more human, heh. Great story.
Ouch. This almost makes me feel guilty about those kidneys I bought down in Brazil.
I loved his constant self-justifications, the wheedling logic of the pyschotic – felt very authentic to me
Oh, chilling. I wonder how long till the voices get too loud for him to continue or if the alcohol will always quiet them.
Is the gun as much a murderer as the hand with the strong index finger?
OH DAMN!
Great stuff consider my spine chilled.
Another strong story taking a bite at the heart. A good killer’s perspective exposing need, reason, and value of a harsh world.
Reminds me of the recent news story about the Doctor who has just failed to get a gagging order upheld. The cracking open of the rib cage is really quite nasty, you can almost hear it.
The whole story is chilling, but that last line so much more so. Love the commentary of if he’d just been offered help instead of fired, he wouldn’t be doing this now. Great story!
This is all kinds of creepy and disturbing and goose-bump inducing. It’s funny how we could watch it on TV without the same reaction because it’s the words here that provide that psychological insight into the character and make it all the more disturbing.
@TonyNoland – so that’s who bought them. Glad to see they’re going to a good home.
Did you know the heart keeps beating after it’s removed from a living body for about a minute? Creepy this pump inside us, jostling and throbbing. Excellent set up, follow through and err execution. <3
Well, this is one way to take care of the organ donation problem. Chilling stuff, and very original. Black market organs. Said thing, this probably happens. Peace…
That was seriously disturbing. Very descriptive and taut. I loved the way you unfolded it; GREAT pacing! Brilliance from you again. 🙂
Am glad you didn’t add to much to the original version debuted at our writers meet – the fact that it is short with minimal background makes it all the more effective
I remember reading about the sale of organs – usually kidneys – that happened in Guatemala a number of years ago. This story chills because it is so scarily well written AND could be the truth of the matter somewhere!
ARGH! She doesn’t faint until he starts sawing through her breastbone… ARGH!!! I seriously did one of those shivery goosebump things thinking about this. Can you IMAGINE being in her position? Tied? Unable to scream? And somebody starts sawing you apart? OMG! And you write it with such cool authority, complete surgical calm, like the twisted doc himself. Mazzz, this is a stupendous horror story. This guy’s worth a novel, fer sure, but oh, the pure horror of his misguided deeds.
Why is he so sure the doctor on the other end isn’t an alcoholic? I like that he calls what he did then “the job.” I think he should call what he does now “the job” too. Nice grisle.
Oh, that’s really good, an excellent insight into the guy’s justifications and quite grim to read! A great #fridayflash.
Very dark, but very real. Excellent job. You gotta shop this one around.
Oh! Chilling for so many reasons. The self-justification and delusion about the alcohol is perfectly represented. Another dark tale of yours I thoroughly enjoyed!
Ohhhhhh very clever. That final line, that moment of clarity in his fog of alcoholism, really nails it.
Yikes! One of my colleagues was just asking this week when one should report a physician with a substance abuse problem. When they start killing ppl, obviously!
Well-written, as always!
CD
I am so creeped out. I think I need to go read something about fairies and unicorns now. And not the twisted kind, either.
Just wow. Chilling! You’ve outdone yourself here. The doctor is a total nutjob, but you’ve done such a great job of getting into his head that his continual justifications are quite convincing. Well handled, that complexity. Keep ’em coming, mazzz!
It’s dark, dark, dark. Creepy…a bit like Dexter. Morally complex! Mazz, love your work.
Chilling and captivating and I’m sure not too far from the truth when it comes to the organ trade
A chilling tale. The question of who is more ethical is excellent!
Yikes. I have to say, I’ve never read a murder from a killer’s point of view that actually makes me almost empathic toward him. Almost. Why the hell couldn’t the rich people at least give him some anesthesia?! It’s true though, I believe people can justify anything. Wonderful job with this.
Oh you evil woman – I am eating beetroot (well, I was) as I sit down to read a few Friday flashes over a late lunch!
Functional drunk, huh? I’ve met a few of them….
Terror-ific and fun!
I love this narrator’s voice, they are haunted by what they are doing, and by the past, but they keep doing it because they’ve become enslaved to the bottle and despair. Coldly, terrifying and all to real.
Creepy, creepy story about a creepy, creepy doctor. Yikes! No way am I signing that organ donor card!
The narrator’s calm descriptions of his ‘affilictions’ and the procedure he performs (crime he commits) adds to the creepiness of the character. A nasty and well-written story, Maria.
Gosh, there is a brutal theme running through this week’s flash stories. Everybody must be feeling murderous. This story stands out though, because it’s truly scary as well as chilling.
The description in this one was creepy but awesome. I very much liked this one.
*shudder* Oh jeez. It’s great how he blames the others for not helping him, and judges the other man. Much more realistic than straight madness. This is terrific.
Excellent pacing, and little drops of detail lead perfectly to the conclusion.
Crackling tale. Well told and cringe-inducing in that signature style of yours…
As Anthony said – cringe-inducing from line 1 – very difficult to read for a wimp like me. i thought he was just doing it for grins until the second doctor came into the picture. i’m not completely sure whether that makes it better or worse. Still horrific to the nth degree, but the writing makes you feel as though you were right in the middle of it – well done.
That was horrifying. Well done.
With the scant regard some of our species have for its own kind, this gruesome tale could just as easy be fact as fiction.
I love it, it reminded me of the autopsy scene in Alien 3 when Charles Dance hacked open Newts ribcage, only this time the victim was still alive.