《‏A Doctor's Diary》 The First Page November 2, 1984 On a Friday At first, I''m not a fan of journaling or writing diaries, but it seems that I¡¯m going to start this twisted diary that is going to ruin my life!! ¡­ I mean, it¡¯s already starting to end; I am truly breaking down. I¡¯ve started to think, "I didn¡¯t do this, officer!" But it seems that it won¡¯t work, because it was I who did it with these two hands. This is what it means to be scum in this society (it seems this is my foolish perspective on being scum¡­ perhaps). I wish things were easier for someone like me; why is life so harsh for someone who just wants peace and harmony in their life? This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. It¡¯s frustrating because things have slipped away from my grasp and I couldn¡¯t control them. I feel sadness, humiliation, and disgrace. How did things take this turn? It was an ordinary day; why, oh God, why? ¡­ A wave of panic and exhaustion washes over me¡­ and fear too!! I¡¯ve fallen into a trap with no way out, for sure¡­ I want to disappear and leave; I want to be free of this weariness!! The Second Page November 1, 1984 Thursday Did I say Thursday? It was a beautiful day, it truly was! But it turned into a hell of a day, barely, barely!! Yes, hell it is, that''s for sure!! With my cup of coffee and my biscuit, I watch the boring morning programs, getting ready to go to work... Haha, who cares about those programs other than old folks and health fanatics and foolish vegetarians? They are the only ones who have raised those viewership ratings over the years!! Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. What is it with her, oh my God? What is this old hag saying? How dare she instruct a modest girl in such a disgusting manner? I am starting to suspect they are a part of a bizarre organization among us without us realizing... truly!! I lack self-confidence, nothing more and nothing less. My self is restrained, shut down, not free in its thoughts, and not independent¡­ just a coward who hates attracting attention. Huh? Excuse me? What? Is she in her right mind, or did she come to work in a drunken state? Since when is a man called handsome?! This sounds like a plot lurking behind that hideous talk. And that fool has become like a statue, neither moving nor responding to the witch¡­ what is this room filled with so many buffoons here!! The Third Page The first of November, 1984 Corresponding to Thursday At eleven-thirty PM In front of the emergency entrance Cigarette after cigarette, there¡¯s no stopping¡­ one after another, smoke rising, wind colliding, and a gentle breeze hitting my face, and a peaceful state of mind¡­ Is freedom hard to attain for those who desire it? How strange!! Those who seek it lose it, and those who live without it find it. Hmm, who am I among these people? Am I from the first category or the second? I¡¯ve started having these thoughts now and then; I don¡¯t understand who I am, nor do I know who my self is. All I know about myself is that I am a cowardly mute, a puppet of fate, not a master of my own choices. It has always come to me at fatal moments due to my weakness, my lack of sincerity and self-esteem; my string is in danger!! With wandering thoughts and a multitude of ideas swirling in my head, having a cigarette after cigarette, I realized I am a fool for standing here in front of the emergency entrance, wasting my time in daydreaming and creating things that benefit me not in my imagination or reality. Wait¡­ Have I branded myself a fool or an idiot? Oh God, I must cut off this overthinking, or else my brain will explode from the overload of questions. And time has overwhelmed me; I need to return home immediately. Ha¡­ Will my brain explode or retreat? It seems that cartoons have a strange effect on humans! Oh God, this is terrifying! How old am I? Am I six or seven? What are these nonsensical thoughts? Taking a sip from my cigarette and puffing it out into the air, a smile crept onto my face. What¡¯s wrong with you, Danny? You seem to be suffering, I chuckled strangely. Am I mentally ill or just insane in this miserable life? Suddenly, a voice pulled me out of my thoughts; a car stopped in front of me. What was its name, I wonder? It''s a Dodge Caravan... Yes, it''s a black Dodge, heavily tinted; I couldn¡¯t see inside. The car manual came to my mind instantly; it¡¯s scary, why am I recalling the manual now of all times? I¡¯m bewildered, what¡¯s happening here!! The middle door of the car opened, and out stepped a young man, seemingly in his early twenties. His eyes were lifeless, devoid of any vitality or help. He stepped out of the car slightly, casting a strange gaze at me¡­ I couldn¡¯t discern what that gaze meant or what was behind it, but it felt ominous, sending shivers down my spine until I felt my spine turn icy cold. Even my cigarette fell from my hand without my realizing it. Am I scared? Of what?! I focused a bit; there was a bruise around his left eye. Is he okay? Why am I not focusing on myself now? Have I been overtaken by the emotions of a doctor? I noticed he was also holding a somewhat thick file, he raised it to his eyes, opened it, and said: "Um¡­ alright¡­ Dr. Adrian Johnson." He gave me a quick glance and continued, "Also¡­ an experienced doctor in his field¡­" He chuckled lightly, "Wow¡­ you¡¯re 185.5 cm tall¡­ you¡¯re quite tall, man! Haha, I can¡¯t believe they even wrote your blood type¡­ are you that important, oh God!!" He then let out a loud laugh that echoed in the air. Has he lost his mind or what? And he began tapping the tip of his finger three times on the point he mentioned in the blue file he held. There was a mocking look on his face, infuriating me. He then turned to those in the car with him, ¡°Guys!! Should I read it all to him? As you know, I just woke up, and I¡¯m too lazy to do it right now¡­ how disappointing! I don¡¯t want to¡­ why am I the one reading the information about this annoying successful guy!! It just makes me feel more miserable about my situation, for he is accomplished and well-versed in his life¡­ oh, damn him for that!!" He turned his head towards me with a lethal glare. Something¡¯s off with him, you¡¯d think! Then, moments later, he got hit on the back of his head by someone in the car with him, a person with a large, muscular arm; his muscles looked like they were bursting from his skin due to their size. ¡°Shut up and read the file to him, you idiot!¡± came a tone of angry command. He clutched his head with both hands and began to groan in pain. Was the blow that painful?! Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. He dropped the file from his hands, focused on the pain in his head. The file fell at my feet, left wide open. I looked at the pages filled with writings and my eyes widened, my limbs trembled¡­ it¡¯s fear. I am scared; all this information is about me, and there¡¯s my picture! What is this, and why!! Should I run, or should I stay? My limbs no longer supported me; I must escape with all I have left¡­ quickly, now!! I moved my feet quickly; it¡¯s a survival instinct mixed with fear of what¡¯s happening to me. It''s the innate instinct of living creatures to survive and avoid imminent danger. I left them behind without glancing back, not even once, even with their voices rising, hearing them yell, ¡°Stop, and hold him, don¡¯t let him go!¡± I didn¡¯t look back at all!! It seems there were ten or more of them. How could a small car hold ten of such beasts!! Quickly around the second bend behind those trees, towards the parking lot first. I implore you, my feet, do not betray me now¡­ Just a little further, I¡¯ll reach my car and the escape¡­ to my home, my place of refuge¡­ terrified, I was running with unsteady steps trying to survive; I ran and ran. What do they want from me? I¡¯m just a miserable person in a bleak life, tasteless and hopeless, living on a slippery slope, unaware of the obstacles ahead. It was merely a few seconds before I stumbled over a small, unseen rock and fell flat on my face. What is wrong with me, I wonder? Am I destined for misery? I pushed myself up from the ground, kneeling from what happened. I felt warmth creeping down my face, only to realize it was my blood, flowing from my nose and staining my hands and sleeves; my forehead had a large gash from the pavement, and the warmth of my blood seemed to be pooling. I turned around to see, having entrusted my fate to my Creator. It seems this is my end; I couldn¡¯t get up, a frown overtook me, they were many. Of course, there¡¯s no escape¡­ they were tumbling like donkeys. After whom! After a simple person, all I ever wanted was peace in this dark life. Is there something wrong with an arduous and futile ambition? One of them grabbed me by the collar, ¡°Damn you, man! Who are you that we couldn¡¯t catch you before? Are you Batman or something we didn¡¯t know about, haha! If you hadn¡¯t fallen, we wouldn¡¯t have been able to do so. Are you an idiot or are you just paralyzed by fear, you fool? Haha!¡± he laughed between words, panting heavily from the exertion of running. Was I that fast?! Amid my exploding tears and despair, mixed with my blood, those words slipped out of my mouth: ¡°I am not Danny, I am someone else!¡± Without realizing it, I was crying, and he still held me by the collar and threw me hard back to the ground. It hurt deeply post this forceful release in my chest; I lay flat on the ground, powerless and weak. I lifted my head from the ground with tearful eyes to count them; there really are ten of them!! How did things turn to this direction? And I am so fragile¡­ and weak too, which I couldn¡¯t grasp!! ¡°What¡­ Danny¡­ who is Danny? Have you suffered some sort of misfortune, or did hitting the pavement make you delirious?!¡± he said after standing erect, shaking off the dust from himself, his face filled with astonishment, furrowing his brows, ¡°We are here for you, Dr. Johnson¡­ we are not here for this Danny. Hand it over quickly, boy¡­ hand it over!¡± My eyes widened; it¡¯s a metal baseball bat. He really handed him a metal baseball bat. Fear shot through me, ¡°What do you want from me? I will pay you whatever you want¡­ I swear¡­ just let me go¡­ please!!¡± I was trying to steady myself and stand, pleading with him, crying and wailing loudly. You could imagine a twenty-seven-year-old man in such a pathetic state. ¡°Please just let me go¡­ I surely don¡¯t deserve this! Oh God, why is this happening to me? I beg you¡­ take whatever you want from me, just don¡¯t kill me¡­ I beg you!!¡± I cried, looking into their faces; they looked at me with pity. It was a situation no one would envy; tears blinded my sight due to their abundance. I know I look hideous now¡­ with tears and blood and screams, but my life is far more important than my disgusting appearance right now. ¡°Alright,¡± he said slowly, and I smiled at him. I was glad; has his heart softened? Just moments later, I heard a metallic sound piercing my skull while I held my stupid smile. A sensation of ringing echoed in my brain, and the world turned to darkness, followed by warm fluid coursing out¡­ he struck me with all his force, and I realized one thing: You were born, Danny, only to suffer!! The Fourth Page A date unknown, a lost hour, and a missing day, in an unknown place... It''s an unreasonable matter!! If you feel that you are an unimportant person in this universe... it''s a painful, hurtful, and sad matter!! You can say whatever descriptions of misery you want, but the ember only hurts the person who steps on it. If you have experienced it, you will understand; if you haven''t, you will avoid it. In my life, I was never the first choice, nor the first refuge... I was always a stranger who evaded attention and avoided those around me. I walk through life like a stagnant valley, with no movement or direction, just waiting for the winds; if they come, then welcome, and if they leave, then damn. Who am I without the winds... but a stagnant valley with my water. A pitch-blackness, a piercing pain, and it became difficult for me to breathe. Where am I? Where have I become? Why is this world so dark? Is it the afterlife? And a feeling of prickling on my cheek; what¡¯s wrong with me? Have I become my grandfather? He was with a sharp beard that could even hurt a virgin in her bed, what¡¯s wrong with you, Danny? Has that old man become mortal? Let him turn this way and that way in hell without fatigue, and you point at him and say, "This is my grandfather," smile at him and tell him, "This is the price of my toil." It''s a funny thing; what''s wrong with me? I remember my grandfather... Is my time with the reaper approaching? But it''s just a sack on my face... I''ve suffocated, and who will remove it from me? Even my hands are tied. Damn those who threw me in this situation. Do they know that this person is suffering? Where are you, people? Even there¡¯s cloth in my mouth and a mask on my face. No sight, no mouth, and no hands... they¡¯ve disabled my senses. How can I run when my feet are tied to my feet? Have I fallen victim to my thoughts, or is it due to my misfortunes? A little while later, I hear someone talking nearby: "Oh my God, how exhausting it was! I didn¡¯t know the boss wanted a handsome guy... Is he one of those people?" What!! Was my kidnapping to become an ashtray for someone? I feel dizzy even while lying on the ground from this heavy news. Another voice said, "Hey kid, hand me that knife... Hurry up, or do you want another punch in your other eye to wake you up, fool?" It seems this won''t end well; an ashtray and a knife... it''s a sad affair. Rustling from here and there, and the sound of moaning... Okay, it seems something bad is happening here. Thinking about it, is it logical for this to happen to me? I mean, a marginalized and lonely person kidnapped for... I don¡¯t know. Thinking about it makes me want to cry and hit myself. Even in this difficult condition, I¡¯m lying down and tied up. I can¡¯t think about it... I mean, being an ashtray is inevitable; a prominent doctor¡ªoh, the irony. Footsteps began to come closer, and the moaning still rises. I''m still convincing myself that I¡¯m in a nightmare and it will end now. Something crashed beside me, followed by a muffled scream of pain. I swear it¡¯s a human body. I felt the warmth of this body rising next to me. It¡¯s really human. How, where, and why? Is this really my fate beside this human body: death, destruction, and the flow of my blood? "Damn you, you fool! Be gentle; we don¡¯t want the blood to clot or any bruises to appear on the body. Clean work equals original craftsmanship." I¡¯m sure I heard the sound of a slap, and I don''t know where it came from after that rebuke. After a short time that didn¡¯t exceed three minutes, I felt fingertips exploring my face. Well, that was what I needed. What now? What¡¯s next? "Listen, is flawless skin without blemishes a trait of a lecherous doctor?" He followed it with a loud laugh that deafened me for seconds. "Lecherous." In truth, you who touched my face do not believe it; I''ve been going from home to work and back. If I needed something, whether it was supplies or luxuries, I went to the nearest store in the neighborhood. "Don¡¯t talk too much; untie him!" A voice came from one direction, annoyed. I don¡¯t know where I am or how to identify how many are here. I took a deep breath after having the mask removed from my mouth. Oh my God, how long has it been since I breathed this way? "It seems he¡¯s exaggerating." "Apparently." Exaggerating... apparently. You are harsh. Have your hearts become a desert that changes only with the seasons, and the verses of night and day? What¡¯s wrong with my hands and feet and eyes, or is this part of the show that I¡¯m left like this? "Where''s the knife, you damned Arthur?" One of them shouted from above me in a coarse voice. Well, it seems it¡¯s indeed a show. "Bring it... you fool! It seems you actually wanted a punch on your other eye." And he began to pound him heavily, muffled by the subject of the called Arthur. I felt a hand gripping my tied wrists and something cold on my skin. Ah, it¡¯s definitely the knife. He was sharpening the knife on that rope whose shape and color I don''t know, but the heat from the knife¡¯s friction was burning my hands... It¡¯s extremely painful!! ¡°Sam, you¡¯re a fool... you¡¯re no different from Arthur in anything!¡± ¡°Fool!!¡± He stopped for a moment sharpening the rope that burned my skin with the pressure. ¡°Yes, a lot!¡± ¡°A lot... Why?¡± he asked. ¡°The knife is for meat, not for the rope. Look over there; the scalpel is in that cardboard box in the car''s bag... take it and give me the knife.¡± Apparently, he gave him the scalpel. Well, there was something scheming here. ¡°Present... hey, John.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not John, it¡¯s Jonathan! Truly a fool!!¡± He chuckled an awkward laugh I ever heard in my life; it was overly neat for a laugh, too. Jonathan has a melodious name and a sweet laugh. Should he intrigue my interest to this degree that I have never seen his face? Oh God, Danny, he is a kidnapper, and he¡¯s likely a killer too. Everyone is laughing and tossing insults, even the mentally ill and psychologically disturbed; no exceptions. I finally felt freedom. I could move unbound now after cutting all those ropes. ¡°Okay, Arthur, untie what¡¯s on his eyes,¡± spoke the voice of the one called Jonathan. I felt someone step towards me; it seems to be Arthur. I felt his hands untying what was on my head and completely removing it from my face. You might say that Danny is delusional, but I felt the light enter my eyes as if you gaze at the sun without blinking. But my reality is dark night and dense gloom. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. I lowered my gaze to meet my eyes with a bloody face, marked with a profound sadness. Out of respect for his closeness to me, it¡¯s Arthur, that boy with the blue file earlier. His face is sculpted; his features are calm and sharp at the same time, with defined and thick eyebrows. His eyes are beautiful, soft, hazel with a hint of green; one has a blue bruise, and the other has an old bruise, visibly showing two days'' worth of blood vessel sedimentation under his eyes. His nose is bleeding, indicating he was recently beaten, and his lips have some dried blood. Oh boy, what makes you remain like this at this age? I say this and I¡¯m sure of it; he¡¯s in his prime and wasting his life on such dangerous matters. ¡°Oh God, good morning, Mr. Johnson. How was your nap? I¡¯m happy to see you regained consciousness,¡± he spoke cheerfully yet mockingly. I turned my gaze towards the familiar voice. Damn, it¡¯s the one who smashed my skull with a baseball bat. You¡¯d think it¡¯s a scary matter, but it¡¯s Jonathan. He got really close to me. His features emerged; perfect skin without blemishes¡ªthat¡¯s one. Two, almond-shaped eyes large with long lashes, a harmoniously structured face... He looks perfect. Damn him! He seems to possess an unbreakable personality due to the defiant look in his eyes, and the way he talks comes from a source of power. ¡°Alright, are you done staring? Wonderful, your eyes pierced my face like lightning; those gaze should be saved for what your eyes will face for the rest of this night, Mr. Johnson.¡± He moved quickly with the flashlight toward my sight, and I covered my eyes with my hands as I was blinded completely. I don''t have the courage to deal with the insane for the rest of my life. ¡°Now, you might be wondering why you were kidnapped, right? You are a gem and must be preserved due to your talent, Mr. Johnson!! ... You might think it¡¯s nonsense, but the boss saw in you what he didn¡¯t see in anyone.¡± With a clear tone of threat in his dark eyes, he is intimidating. I recoiled, my essence devoured. He read my pulse, my giving, weak personality, and asked, ¡°So... what is it that you want?¡± He straightened up and took two steps back. He gestured with the flashlight behind me. Instinctively, I turned my face away to avoid being blinded again, but I heard a muffled laugh from him. He is a devil without a doubt, heartless and enjoys torturing. I turned back toward the direction of his flashlight, and my eyes widened in shock at the horror of the scene. My shock today was two-fold¡ªthere she is, Ms. Lam, beside her, stripped of clothing, gasping in pain, tied from all sides, and tears dried in her eyes, and there¡¯s more: cloth in her mouth. I scanned her entire beautiful, clean body. This body is desired by every man beneath her. I can¡¯t blame the men at work; they were taking turns with her to see who¡¯s more fit to do it, and she only consented to the fewest. But I was the only one she had approached. If I had accepted, I wouldn¡¯t have lost; it would have been a wonderful event, better than this shameful incident. My eyes met her icy blue eyes; well, this was the first time in my life I saw this woman with such beauty throughout those four years. Was she like this before, or had I been cloudy in my vision without realizing? As if I hadn¡¯t realized before, my hand found its way to her cheek. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me like that with such grief; we are in this together.¡± Her gaze was painful and sorrowful at what she faced. My hand moved from her cheek to her chest, my gaze was scrutinizing and revealing toward her in wonder; she¡¯s beautiful! I continued to touch and caress until I stopped midway due to the sound of that frightening Jonathan. ¡°Wow, this forest is very large, Mr. Johnson! Do you want us to go ahead and achieve what you desire?¡± I turned to him; I¡¯m afraid, swallowed hard, and then added, ¡°Why is this woman here?¡± My hand was still on Olivia''s torso, trembling with fear. He tilted his head in surprise, ¡°She is the merchandise!!¡± I asked, ¡°Merchandise... what do you mean? I don¡¯t understand.¡± He stepped forward and placed his hands on my face; the flashlight remained in his hand, and he added, making a cute face, ¡°Meaning we want her parts.¡± My eyes widened; my lips trembled; tears filled my eyes. What is this day? Why? I pushed him with all my strength, standing up and attempting to run; I wanted to escape all of this. But that action was a reckless folly; in mere seconds, my body crashed onto the snow-covered ground. I tried to stand up, but it was useless; my body wouldn¡¯t assist. I heard his delicate laugh closing in on me in the darkness¡ªit¡¯s terrifying, my heartbeats won''t cease from fear. I felt his long fingers on my shoulder, rolling me onto my back, and he took a knee on top of me and started punching me madly with deadly fists without stopping. I saw the colors of the spectrum, clouds, and the sun in this pitch-black darkness. I felt my tears streaming down copiously on my cheeks, and I would bet it¡¯s mixed with my blood, the taste of my blood was like iron in my mouth; I was numbed from the severity of his beating. He struck me endlessly without tiring, and in between his breaths, "scoundrel," and "rascal" escaped his lips; he released me and stood up above me. My eyes met his; they were icy with no life, hollow, void of the spirit that should nourish them. It was a quarter of an hour of punches; I no longer felt my face, and I¡¯m convinced my features have been erased from existence. ¡°Patrick, strip him of his work clothes!¡± he remained standing above me. That Patrick appeared from nowhere and mumbled, ¡°Present,¡± while this Jonathan stepped back, and Patrick began to remove my white work coat, helping me to stand, and we moved toward Olivia. I didn¡¯t actually move; I was running around like a fool in front of them searching for lost freedom, and this crimson-haired Patrick helped me sit beside her. He was glamorous in beauty. I closed my eyes reluctantly. My eyes were swollen from the beating and pained me severely, ¡°I cannot... I cannot do it!¡± ¡°Come on, Mr. Johnson, what did you say? Proceed or lose!¡± I lifted my gaze to him; he was breathing heavily from the severity of hitting me. He tangled his hair with his hands, licked his lips, widened his eyes more than before, and stressed his words: ¡°Advance or lose.¡± He stepped toward me and lowered himself; ¡°Either now or never.¡± His words were a blend of threat wrapped in a request. He added, ¡°Seriously!! You are an excellent surgeon. Cutting meat is the same everywhere, and don''t tell me you think you¡¯re under an upscale doctor title; please spare me?¡± His words were more of disdain than ridicule. I just followed him with my gaze, motionless; weakness overtook me. ¡°Hey, Leo, bring that bag immediately!!¡± he commanded in a firm voice. That Leo hurried, opened the bag full of surgical tools before me, ¡°Look, Mr. Johnson, aren¡¯t they shiny and beautiful?¡± He took one of those tools and added, ¡°Aren¡¯t they as attractive as mermaids?¡± and brought it closer to my face, ¡°What do you think?¡± I moved my hand towards the scalpel he held and grasped it. He smiled at me, ¡°Does this mean your acceptance, Mr. Johnson?" I looked at Ms. Lam; she was stunned and shocked at the same time, fighting, crying, and screaming muffled due to the cloth on her mouth, seeking help hoping someone would respond, but there¡¯s no rescue; it¡¯s your certain fate, and I looked back at him and nodded in approval. It was indeed a very difficult and necessary decision!! Here, it¡¯s life or death, no gray area, just black and white; the strong live, and the weak are crushed. The Fifth Page Things always lose their value when they wither and die; hence, recognize the moment you lose something through its initial signs. Whether it is shattered or not, hold on to your damaged goal. It''s not important for it to be of high quality; what matters most is the tenacity to cling to it. Goals make us alive; without them, you are a hollow body without a soul. Her eyes sparkled with sadness under the moonlight, and a warm tear fell from her left eye. She knew her end and could not accept it. Right, left, surrounded by strangers, except for one person she knew all too well¡ªa boy with calm features, wide eyes, beautiful lips, and a straight nose. It was Adrian, a newcomer at work for four years, and now her end was in the hands of the one who had captured her admiration all those years ago. He picked up the scalpel from the hands of that villain, glancing between her and the others present. He took a breath and stood upright, repeating to himself, "Four years, four years, let it go to hell!" He knew what he was doing and that he was sinking. He closed his eyes, opened them again, "Oh God, what have you afflicted me with? I cannot bear this torment." He gathered the fragments of his lost self and stepped towards her as if heading toward hell, fully aware that everything he was doing was utterly wrong. He knelt over her, and she screamed, but it was in vain, for no call could be heard today, nor could she move. Everything she did was in vain and lost, no matter how much she struggled. She was merely one of the tormented, facing her fated destiny. Drowning in her tears, you can imagine that all she thought of was Adrian¡¯s face, still and bloody, swollen and wounded. Even his beautiful eyes, in her view, were smeared with blood. She thought he would save her. She did not know he wanted to escape from this immense ordeal. He inserted the scalpel between her breasts without thinking, twisting silently, "Oh, what ill fortune you have, Olivia, you were not one of the lucky ones." He pushed it deeper into her, and she convulsed from the pain. Her blood flowed like maple syrup, but red for the onlookers. He pulled the scalpel straight down to her navel, blood splattering everywhere like a fountain. Her life flashed before her. She wanted to spend this day with her mother. She left her house that morning, shouting at her mother to go to hell. It was only now that she wished to say, "Mom, I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t mean that disgraceful thing," but today there was no room for apologies or returns¡ªonly a dreadful death. It was the end of her life at the hands of her beloved, a truth neither certain nor imaginary, but real indeed. He placed his hand on the physician¡¯s hand to stop him and looked into Adrian¡¯s eyes, questioning, "Mr. Johnson, do you harbor any grudges against this lady? You are a doctor after all... you didn¡¯t even ask us to render her unconscious to start your work since there¡¯s no anaesthetic. We¡¯re not in an operating room, mind you. Isn¡¯t it sad for such a beautiful lady?" Adrian glared at Jonathan''s worried face, thinking to himself, "Isn''t this the one who just punched me to death a moment ago?" He replied, "I¡¯m just doing what you asked!" Jonathan looked fearfully at Olivia¡¯s bleeding body, struggling for her life. She was convulsing from the severe pain; her belly was opened and blood splattered a crimson hue, like a waterfall. Under this gruesome sight, Jonathan said, "You¡¯re a monster, Mr. Johnson." Adrian shoved him with all his might, causing him to collide with the car a few meters away. He shouted, "Sam, make her lose consciousness fast... hurry up!!" Sam rushed toward her like lightning, a massive, rough man, two meters tall, muscular, with sharp features, possessing huge hands. He wrapped his hands around her neck, and with a quick motion, he snapped it. She fainted from the pain. "You fool, bastard," Jonathan spat out and turned his gaze toward Adrian. "What were you thinking, for God''s sake? You¡¯re no different from the killers now. You were relishing cutting her; you were smiling! Are you insane?" Jonathan shouted hysterically, veins bulging from his neck. "We¡¯re only here to remove the organs, not for amusement. Do you understand that you are a doctor worthy of this profession? But to smile¡­ there¡¯s something wrong with you!" His eyes wide, gesturing with anger towards Adrian. Adrian watched Jonathan calmly and stood up. "Should I continue?" Jonathan advanced toward him, and a strong punch was about to land, but Patrick and Arthur intervened, holding him back. There was going to be two corpses in this dark forest. Jonathan yelled, "Let me go, damn it!" He was furious, spitting words, "I don¡¯t know what the boss sees in you, but there¡¯s something wrong, I¡¯m sure of it, you bastard!" They worked to calm Jonathan until he settled down. "Jon, is there something wrong with you? You''re not yourself," Sam inquired with worried eyes. Jonathan replied, "Nothing, let¡¯s get on with this damned work." He stood up and looked at Adrian, who was so angry he wanted to kick him. He was provoked by Adrian¡¯s lack of emotion, like a robotic man executing orders. Anyone in his position would not display such cold behaviors. "There¡¯s something wrong, I¡¯m certain of this," was all Jonathan could think. He picked up the scalpel from the snowy ground. Behind the scalpel lay the beautiful body of Olivia, a stunning lady with flawless white skin, gentle features. A small nose that was almost button-like in its smallness, a charming smile, and ideal lips. Her eyes were like blue gemstones, and her hair was silky, leaning towards white with a yellowish hue. She was an angel descended from heaven. But now, her condition was miserable¡ªher belly was opened, exposing the writhing organs due to this huge gash, starting from her chest and ending below her navel, with blood flowing this way and that. Her ribs were purple , and her heart was red, her intestines pink. He moved toward the body, which was still battling for life, to continue what he had started. Although this body showed everything it bore, his fingers swiftly traced over the gaping wound in the sweet girl, tearing out her vibrant heart. His eyes shone with a glimmer he recognized all too well, a memory not quite a memory, even with the passing days. It was still beating, beating. "Doctor, place it here," a voice said. Adrian turned his head toward the sound¡ªif it was Patrick, the red-haired one. He moved his pupils toward the mentioned place and saw an insulated bag with blocks of ice. He placed the heart gently inside, as if bidding farewell with her heart. All this was under Jonathan¡¯s distant gaze. There, beside the car, he watched this physician''s brutality and felt that there was something hidden behind this behavior, seeing him as a beast. He used only the surgical tool, the scalpel, to extract the rest of the organs with his bare hands after the heart¡ªtaking out the lungs, liver, kidneys, and placing them with the help of his crew into the insulated organ bags and boxes. From Adrian''s perspective, he felt the warmth of Olivia''s body from within his hands. Thoughts of despair raced through his mind with every deeper thrust into her soft body. It didn''t seem brutal to him but rather a delightful ecstasy. He opened his mouth in a strange way for an observer to see, but fortunate for him, it was pitch dark here, and all the lights were directed only at Olivia. His pupils trembled with each deepening, each warmth; he felt her blood pouring into his wrists, and his breathing grew heavy as his fingers swam in the great gash. As blood pooled around her body, the bright red pooled into the white snow falling on the ground, he felt a shiver coursing through his body. He was now intoxicated, feeling that this was her fate, whether he lay with her or not; he was going to experience this warmth in this state or another.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. He continued to delve deeper until he regained consciousness, realizing and straightening up, screaming with all his might. He fell to the ground, his screams filled with "What is this?" and "How can this be?" His throat was raw and his vocal cords strained, a confused memory, and a lost state. He looked at his hand stained with blood and the corpse before him, screaming louder, "What is this, oh God? How is this and that?" He wept and lamented, "Save me, oh God." He looked right and left, "Who are you... who are you?" It was more of a scream than an inquiry. "Your doctor has finally lost his mind," Leo''s words escaped his lips. Patrick elbowed him, "Shut up, you!" They seemed to watch him as he screamed, hysterical. All in their minds, was he indeed out of his mind after all this? None of them could take a step towards him; he was like a dangerous madman whose mind had just shattered, becoming a white blank slate without thought. Arthur was frozen in place, wondering what had just happened. "What now... when will this day end well?" Jonathan rushed toward the frenzied Adrian to regain control of the situation and punched him hard in the face, knocking him out cold. "What just happened?" he asked the boys, but they responded with ignorance. He then held his hand after the punch, feeling the pain. "A raging bull, damn him, how did I get myself into this... oh God." He was pessimistic to the skies, glancing at Adrian, now unconscious, sprawled on the snowy ground. He was about to explode with rage. How could this idiot create such damage in his work? This wasn¡¯t the first time for such tasks, but this time the mission had taken a grotesque turn by all accounts. Jonathan''s work had always been clean and precise without errors, but now it was a "flagrant failure." He muttered, striding toward Sam, turning to him and saying, "The work ends here." Sam, noting in his notebook, said, "All organs are accounted for, from the heart to the kidneys." Jonathan spoke to him, pointing at Olivia''s corpse, "Do not bury her, leave her here on the surface; perhaps hungry animals will finish her off," and indicated Adrian, "And this idiot, I will take with me. You finish the deal with the black knights at the end of the purple hill." He added, "Where''s the rest?" inquiring. Sam replied, "They are there at the forest entrance." Jonathan nodded and walked toward the still body of Adrian, carrying him on his back toward his car. The sound of whistling and blurry vision came as he regained consciousness, feeling a chill on the right side of his face. He opened his eyes wide in fear, and this chill was from the car window he was leaning against. He lifted his head and glanced right and left to assess his state, finding himself seated, bound to the front seat of someone¡¯s car. "Good, you finally woke up, doctor. Oh God, how delightful this sandwich is," he turned to the voice enthusiastically enjoying their food¡ªa hand rummaging through the paper bag in their lap. His stomach growled from hunger, sounding like a crow, and he couldn¡¯t tell if it was morning again or if days had passed. His memory blurred about what day it was. "Oh God, that¡¯s your stomach, you seem hungry, doctor," said Jonathan, smiling sidelong with bright eyes. That smile was refreshingly sweet, but¡­ He took a moment to realize it was the same one who had just punched him furiously back there, and he pushed that thought from his mind, chastising himself, "I must have lost my mind for a moment; how could I think of such a silly idea? This madman nearly killed me!" The man next to him in the car was picking through the food ¡°I brought you a sandwich from my favorite place, doctor. Here,¡± he extended the sandwich towards Adrian, its delicious aroma wafting enticingly. His stomach churned with fierce desire. He looked at Jonathan with a frown. "What?" Jonathan asked, raising his shoulders, "Don¡¯t want it? Alright, I¡¯ll eat it myself. After all, it¡¯s from my favorite place," and he took a sip from the soda can in his other hand. Dan cleared his throat before speaking, "I don¡¯t mean to offend, but how do you expect me to take it from you? As you see, my hands are tied up in this rope... I hope you¡¯re joking or something!" He raised his hands to let the other see them. Jonathan squinted at him and started to comprehend what was going on, apologizing for not realizing it and loosening the bindings around Dan¡¯s hands. He handed him the sandwich and the soda, "Here, I¡¯m sorry for being distracted, Mr. Adrian," with an embarrassed yet apologetic smile. Under the night¡¯s darkness with the cars'' red and white lights moving and the slow fall of snow, there was only the rustling of bags and the sound of straws chasing soda, signaling the end of their meal. They both were engrossed in eating. No one spoke after Jonathan handed Adrian the meal; it had been a long, strange day for them both. Jonathan finished eating and gazed outside the car window, having parked on the curb near the hospital. He turned to Adrian and spoke softly, "Are you done with your meal, doctor, or do you need more?" Adrian glanced at him and gestured to the remaining piece of the sandwich, "More." Jonathan nodded in understanding and added, "Okay... that¡¯s fine; but where do you live, doctor? I¡¯ll take you home." Dan turned to him, his face contorting in surprise, "But my car is over there; I want to head to it. It''s still in the hospital parking lot," he said with a pained expression. Jonathan replied, "Orders are orders; don¡¯t argue with me because I¡¯m responsible for you now," with a determined tone. Dan opened the window after asking Jonathan''s permission and threw the paper bag and what was left in it outside. He looked at Jonathan with displeasure, not wanting to speak; words got stuck in his throat. If he had the power, he would have cried, with everything in his mind questioning how things had reached this low level¡ªhe would equate it to tearing the wings off a bird. He fixed his gaze forward, "It''s a strange day; I live in the Dawn Oasis neighborhood." His words came out with a sigh and disappointment that you would know. Jonathan fired up the engine, and they began to move under his guidance. It didn''t take long until they arrived at the residential area. "Nice, you live here; it¡¯s a perfect choice, Mr. Johnson," Jonathan said cheerfully, but Dan remained silent, exhaling deeply as he described to the other where his house was. The car stopped in front of the house. "Safe travels, Mr. Johnson," Jonathan said cheerfully, adding, "We¡¯ve reached your destination." He chuckled lightly and turned to Adrian, "Well, you can get out now." As Dan leaned out of the car after opening the door, a hand pulled him back, causing him to sit down again, turning in shock at the person behind this hand. Fear gripped him anew; he couldn¡¯t believe how he was still stuck; hadn¡¯t this day reached a peaceful end? "Mr. Johnson, remain in your house for a week, and do not attempt to talk to anyone or act out. For a week, don¡¯t even open the door for anyone... Understood!" Jonathan¡¯s expression was dark. Dan was stunned and replied fearfully, "But my work..." Jonathan interrupted, "Consider it taken care of from this moment; now go home," pushing him forcefully to go. Dan exited the car, limping from the amount he had experienced that night. Tears gathered in his eyes, and all he could think of were those words, "There must be something wrong." He reached the doorstep and turned back, but Jonathan¡¯s car remained there, watching him like a wolf, with that dark expression and falsely warm smile. He waved goodbye, and Dan waved back as well, opening the door with difficulty and confusion. He leaned against it, silently crying with a heavy heart, hearing the rumble of that car driving away, "How did this happen, how did this happen?" What he faced was no small matter, and he wished desperately for his freedom to return now. The Sixth Page He was sprawled out on one of the sofas in the living room, clad in his soft, blue pajamas. Darkness filled the space, broken only by the flickering light of the TV screen, where evening shows and the nine o''clock news played out. A plate sat nearby, bearing a few greasy spots and a sad couple of popcorn kernels. Glasses dotted the surrounding tables, holding remnants of juice, water, and a smattering of sodas. Farther away, on the dark brown coffee table, rested numerous plates bearing the ghosts of meals past. His sleep schedule had become a complete disaster. He was bored out of his mind; it had been four days of this same dreary routine, shuffling from the bedroom to the kitchen and back to the living room. Barely a moment had passed when the doorbell shattered the silence. He jumped, startled, feeling a genuine jolt of fear, as if death itself had come calling. "It''s much too late for someone to be visiting," he muttered to himself. "Okay, no need to panic," he tried to reassure himself. He threw off the blanket draped over him, a colorful spread adorned with roses and flowers. The blanket was a sandy color, the roses a vibrant red, and the flowers a pure white. It was his favorite, his go-to comfort. He pushed himself up from the sofa and swallowed hard. He moved on tiptoe, his fear so intense it was almost a physical weight. His extremities had turned icy, and his blood felt as if it were drying up in his veins. He crept slowly towards the front door, a distance that felt like an eternity, a minute and a half. The door was an off-white shade, the color of cream, with a golden handle intricately decorated with roses. He edged closer and peered through the small, golden peephole to see who was outside, trembling with fear, his body racked with shivers, dreading what awaited him. He blinked rapidly in surprise, "It''s my grandma!!" Just moments before, he''d been gripped by terror, but now he felt a surge of relief. His nerves loosened, though his muscles remained tense. "Oh my God," he chuckled softly, unable to believe it. He had been expecting a policeman, or worse, one of those criminals. The bell rang again, but this time the sound was different, more forceful. His grandmother was pounding on the bell with her fist, and a stream of curses could be heard, muttered under her breath: "Stupid," "Idiot," "Damn you," and "Open the door, now!" The last insult hit the hardest: "It''s not you, Dan, but this spinelessness... you''re acting like one of those pansies you know!" His eyes widened. Those words were so sharp, so cutting, that Dan broke into a fit of hysterical laughter, wiping away tears as he mumbled, "The world changes, but Mrs. Johnson never does." Outside, his grandmother''s annoyance and anger only intensified. "Why isn''t he opening the damn door?" she grumbled. She began to kick the door forcefully with her red heels, yelling, "Danny... Get out here, right now!!" She punctuated her demands by banging on the door with her hands, "Dan," she hissed through gritted teeth, "Open the door!" She was truly losing her patience. With the rising volume, the situation started to scare Adrian. He panicked and lunged to open the door, not thinking, afraid he was attracting too much attention. His eyes met his grandmother''s the instant the door swung open. She gasped and exclaimed, "What is this?" Her gaze swept over her grandson, scrutinizing him from head to toe. "What happened to your face?" she demanded, her voice rising to a shout. Adrian instinctively covered his ears against her powerful voice. He reached out, grabbed his grandmother by the arm, and pulled her inside like a lightning bolt, while she shrieked, "Damn you!" As he pulled her in, he quickly scanned the street, trying to determine if anyone was watching him. Satisfied after a few brief seconds, he slammed the door shut behind them. He turned to face his grandmother, still holding her arm. "What''s going on, sweetie... What''s wrong? What''s happening, Danny?" she asked, her voice now laced with fear and concern. She sensed something was terribly wrong. Dan''s behavior was so unlike him; to be so cautious, so silent with her, was truly disturbing. She flicked on the lights and muttered, "Are you a bat or something?" She examined her grandson more closely. His face was covered in bruises, his eyes were bloodshot, and his lip was split. Dark circles painted the skin beneath his eyes, betraying exhaustion and fatigue. She saw that his vitality had been drained; there was no spark of life in him. His skin was damaged, his hair a mess. His overall condition was wretched, his complexion ashen and gray. The only thing hinting at brightness and life was what he was wearing... his soft, blue pajamas. She lifted her hands and gently cupped his face, her gaze tender and worried. He was her Danny, her little one. "Are you alright?" she asked softly. He looked away from his grandmother, and tears began to stream down his face. He didn''t meet her gaze. He started to sob, his left hand covering her hand that rested on his cheek. "Things are terrible, Grandma... you can''t imagine," he choked out between sobs. A broken, tearful smile flickered across his lips, and he began to breathe in ragged, gasping breaths, punctuated by his crying. His grandmother quickly embraced him, not pressing for answers, simply offering comfort. She was shocked, her eyes wide with surprise at her grandson''s behavior. The gravity of the situation awakened a memory from the distant past. After a long embrace, lasting perhaps fifteen minutes, she pulled away and gently wiped away his tears. "Whatever''s going on, it will pass, dear," she said softly. "If you don''t want to talk about it now, that''s your choice. I won''t force you. But if there''s anything I can do to help, tell me. Anything at all." She patted his back reassuringly, and he nodded, muttering, "Of course, I will." He offered his grandmother a watery smile, and she returned it. "Everything will be alright, Dan. Okay?" she asked. "Much better now," Dan replied. "I really needed that." He gave his grandmother a slightly mischievous smile, raising his eyebrows playfully. She laughed and playfully nudged him. "Stop that. Oh my God, what a naughty boy," she said, chuckling at his antics. He was the only one left for her; she couldn''t bear the thought of losing him, too. Normajin was a beautiful woman with golden hair, blue eyes, and a rosy complexion. She was slender and tall, striking whether she was young or old. Annoying, as Danny sometimes described her, she was at the tail end of her fifties. She loved her grandson dearly, even though she often got angry at his antics and his reckless behavior. She tried to overlook his flaws, seeing herself as the ideal grandmother for her sometimes foolish grandson. "Where''s our agreement? You were supposed to visit my farm every Monday," she said, giving him a sidelong glance. "Didn''t you break our deal, Dan?" she asked, heading toward the living room. Dan''s eyes followed her as she walked. "I completely forgot, I''m sorr¡ª" She cut him off with a shout, "What is this?" Dan shrank back, and she continued, "When did all this mess appear?" The words were practically spat out from between her teeth. ''Oh my God, she''s really angry,'' he thought to himself. "Well, I¡ª" he stammered, unsure of what to say. "Okay, so it''s..." he trailed off, struggling to find the right words. He finally reached the living room, where she stood, seething with anger and disapproval. "All I know is that my grandson is organized and tidy. And now I''m seeing the exact opposite!" She jabbed him in the stomach with her finger. "No, please," he groaned, wincing from the pain. He tried to dodge her, but she landed another blow, making him cry out. She glared at him, warning, "Now, you clean up this mess, and you clean it up fast! What''s gotten into you? You''re not the Danny I know!" She pointed at him accusingly. The last sentence hit Adrian hard, piercing his heart. ''If only you knew,'' he thought bitterly. "I''m going to get the groceries from my car, and I swear, if you haven''t cleaned up this mess by the time I get back, this night is going to go very badly for you," she said, her voice trembling with indignation. Who could blame her? The boy was clearly lost in some dark place. She stormed out of the living room and headed toward the door. "Okay, okay, here we go again," Dan muttered, realizing that the situation was spiraling out of control. He limped after her, trying to stop her from leaving. "Grandma... please, just go and sit in the guest room. I''ll get the groceries," he pleaded. She yelled, trying to push him away. "Get away from me! Don''t touch me!" He begged her to go back inside, trying to convince her to let him get the groceries himself, but she struck him hard, trying to shove him away. He simply absorbed the curses and blows.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. She finally overpowered him, bringing her shiny, red heel down hard on his foot. He screamed in pain and collapsed to the floor, clutching his right leg. Just what he needed. She looked down at him, triumphant, making it clear that she had won this round. She turned and stalked away, the sound of her heels echoing through the house like gunshots. Dan lay groaning on the floor near the stairs leading to the second floor. He was actually crying now, the pain was so intense. He didn''t dare move, fearing he had actually broken his foot. She had stomped on it with all her might. "Crazy grandmother... really! I can''t believe she just showed up! Why couldn''t she stay at her farm? Damn her! I''m not that demanding little teenager anymore!" he said, scowling. The front door was still open, and he could see her out in the street, standing by her yellow car, hauling out brown paper bags from a grocery store. The bags were emblazoned with the words: "Healthy Food." Dan thought, ''Groceries. This means she''s planning to stay the night.'' The thought swirled in his head. ''I can''t handle this. Oh God.'' He mentally slapped himself, remembering his current situation and the threats that still echoed in his mind. And now, his grandmother had arrived to upend everything in a single, dramatic swoop. ''She''s a master at putting me in the line of fire.'' He struggled to his feet and limped into the living room, his face a mask of despair, determined to start cleaning up. "I don''t know what you''re thinking about, or what you''ve gotten yourself mixed up in, but all I know is that you''re a neat and beautiful boy, not some rotten bum!" she muttered. She placed the bags of groceries on the floor, closed the front door behind her, gathered all the bags in one hand, and hurried toward the kitchen. "I''m going to make some food... and I''m definitely going to force you to eat it!" she yelled. "I''m your grandmother, after all. You can''t refuse your grandma!" She finished her sentence with a somewhat wicked laugh. He shuffled into the kitchen, wearing a strained smile that barely concealed his annoyance. In his hands, he carried the scattered dishes and glasses he''d gathered from the living room. "I''m done~," he sang in a sarcastic tone. "The living room is tidied up~ Any other services you require, my dearest Grandma~" He finished with a flourish, trying to make light of the situation. She was exaggerating, anyway. The living room wasn''t nearly as filthy as his grandmother had imagined. It was just a few dishes and some glasses. She looked at him and said, "Come on, roll up your sleeves and help me prepare some delicious food... Come on!" She smiled at him, her face radiating happiness. She missed these moments from her peaceful farm. Well, in his eyes there was sadness now, and internally he was screaming, ''I want peace!'' He nodded to her gently and began to help, not wanting to ruin this rare, sweet moment they were sharing. It wasn''t just because he craved her warm affection, but because there was something far more important at stake: the terrible, ugly mess he had gotten himself into. He didn''t want to drag his grandmother into those dark, twisted labyrinths. He swallowed the last bite of the meat sauce pasta that his grandmother had prepared, with a little bit of his help. He was watching a movie his grandmother had picked out before falling asleep on the sofa opposite him. It was a VHS tape loaded into the VCR, showing a movie called "The Wizard of Oz." It was her favorite movie, and he didn''t mind watching something she enjoyed. But she was asleep now, which was odd. The drive here must have been tiring. Her farm was a solid four hours away, not counting stops, and with all those groceries, it must have taken even longer. He stood up and got her a burgundy-colored robe and draped it over her, pressing a kiss on her forehead in gratitude. He needed this warmth. He turned off the VCR and the TV, and switched on a decorative lamp to create a soft, warm, and comforting atmosphere for his grandmother. He gathered the empty dishes and carried them to the kitchen to wash them. He lay back on one of the sofas, rubbing his eyes wearily and propping one foot up on the armrest. His body was exhausted, but his mind continued to race, replaying the events of the past four days. Those memories ambushed him violently and suddenly, as if a voice was whispering, ''Don''t forget me. I''m an important part of your miserable life.'' He was haunted by the fleeting feeling that he had enjoyed it, that he had actually liked it... But he quickly banished that thought, condemning himself as a cowardly monster for piercing that beautiful set of teeth, mutilating them, defiling her. Was she that important to him? Or was she just another face in the crowd... Did she mean anything to him at all? For four days, he had tried to convince himself that she was still alive, that she was laughing and smiling as always, and that the events of that day had been nothing more than a nightmare... But the scent of her blood and the frantic pounding of her heart were still vivid in his senses, a stark reminder that it had all been real, a brutal reality, not just a bad dream. He cursed his fate, wondering how he could have done something so horrific. His mind kept telling him, over and over, that it wasn''t the first time, Danny. The thought consumed him. He had a dim sense of having felt that pleasure before, but his memory failed him. All he knew was that his body remembered, and that terrified him more than anything else. The sharp ring of the doorbell dragged him from his dark thoughts. "What?" he blurted out in shock, his gaze snapping to his grandmother, who was still asleep on the sofa. He felt a surge of alarm. Who could possibly be calling at this hour? It was midnight, a time for nothing good. He hesitated, then scrambled to his feet and rushed toward the door. His long, slender fingers reached for the golden handle, acting without thinking. But then he froze, suddenly snapping back to reality. ''What a fool! I almost got myself killed tonight,'' he thought, berating himself. ''I need to get a grip, focus on what I''m doing. I''m so jumpy that I can''t even see straight!'' He shifted his gaze quickly to the small, golden peephole. He was trembling with fear. He never got visitors, especially not at this hour, or any hour, for that matter. He was a recluse by nature, and he never invited anyone to his home, no matter who they were. That was just the way he was. The mystery of the ringing doorbell, at this time, was a puzzle that sent shivers down his spine. Who could be behind that door? He blinked, unable to believe what he was seeing. His blinks were rapid, a desperate attempt to make sense of what his eyes were telling him. Standing outside his door... was death itself. The last person he could ever expect to see... Jonathan the Beast!!