Chapter 8: requiem for a dream

Nurse Belinda didn't returned to check on Michael till the next day. When she unlocked the door to the prison cell in the basement, she heard Michael rambling insanely on the other side. Michael had been on his hands and knees position for almost 24 hours now. He had been unable to rest on the floor since his dog leash would strangle him if he tried to lower his head. If he tried to lower his backside in order to sit down, his restrains will force the dildo deeper into his rectum, causing heavy pains in his bloated bladder and belly. Because of this, Michael had been unable to sleep during the night and he was totally exhausted with every muscle in his tortured body aching. The worst of all was his full bladder that he had been unable to empty for so long. His urge to relieve himself had drove him insane; every time he heard somebody approaching his prison cell he had shouted and begged for help, but nobody ever came in to check on him. After a while he started imagining hearing footsteps in the deserted corridor, he would hear voices and see figures in the darkness of his cell, devils, which were there to torture him and take his soul. He had screamed and begged them to leave, but as the night progressed, the voices would grow loader and more demon-like until he dreaded every footstep that approached the door.

When Belinda opened the door, she found Michael in a terrible condition. He was shivering from the cold and pain and his neck, thighs and arms were spasming. He seemed to have lost his sanity and was drooling uncontrollably while mumbling to himself in a quiet voice. As he saw Belinda appear in the room, he thought that it was one of the creatures which had been lurking at him in the dark and he cried out an animal howl in pure terror.

Although Belinda on the outside seemed to be very sadistic, she still knew the virtue of mercy and the sight of Michael standing there so helplessly and in great suffering finally triggered some kind of genuine pity in her. She approached Michael carefully and managed to grab hold of his collar. Michael in the meantime started shouting and crying and jerked hard to release himself from her grip, only hurting himself in his fruitless efforts.

"Devils!" He shouted. "The devil have send you here! Go away! Please leave me alone! Leave me alone!"

"Michael, stop this you are hurting yourself!" she tried to reassure him by talking in her sweet and tender voice. "Michael, .don't you recognize me? I am nurse Belinda. Calm down Michael and look at me Michael look at me!"

Michael, who had been avoiding her sight since she entered, glimpsed at her face briefly and seemed to calm down a little. He recognized the beautiful lady in the nurse uniform, although his memory and reasoning was still clouded by fear.

Belinda quickly put her soft hand on his eyes, forcing them to shut. "Ssssst," She hushed. "Ssssst, everything is going to be fine, just calm down now Michael, I am here, nobody is going to hurt you." She cradled his head between her hands and hummed softly. This seemed to do the trick and Michael's shaking body came to a rest.

When she thought Michael had calmed down enough she released him from his ankle and wrist cuffs and removed the collar from his neck. Michael collapsed to the floor from total exhaustion and lied heavily breathing on the floor. Belinda noticed remorsefully that the dog collar that she had made him wear had left a deep red scar on his neck. Maybe it was a little harsh of her to let the poor soul suffer for so long. She should had released him from his position before she left work yesterday. Trying to make it up to him, she decided to remove all the "treatment devices" from his body and let him see Dr Stanfield as quickly as possible.

"Michael, I know that it is painful, but I want you to roll on your back and spread your legs slightly. I am not going to hurt you, trust me."

Michael started to sob but he obeyed her orders meekly. He didn't trust her since his blurry memory seemed to associate her with the infliction of pain, but he was too scared to resist and rolled on his back. The weight of his heavy water filled intestines and bladder crushed his organs and caused him extreme agony. He parted his legs and waited dreadfully for things to come. When Belinda reached out for the pincers, Michael whined softly since he feared that she would torture him again. But instead, she removed the pincers one by one as carefully as she could. The pincers had been left on his skin for too long, and most of the veins that were pinched off were damaged, causing subcutaneous bleedings. The instant re-flow of blood in the area's also caused poor Michael severe suffering. When Belinda tried to remove the cock cage, the pain it caused was too much for him. Michael writhed and pulled his legs together. Belinda let him rest for a while before she tried it again, but it seemed an impossible task to remove the cock cage without hurting him. Eventually she used a pair of scissors to snap the leather bands that were connecting the rings in order to release his tormented lid. She also cut and removed the ropes and the restrains. Finally, the dildo had to be removed. Belinda ordered Michael to get on his hands and knees again and she pulled out the dildo from his behind. As soon as the device came out, Michael was no longer able to control his bowels and a warm brown stream of diarrhea flowed down his legs. He defecated all over himself while Belinda watched with a mix of pity and utter disgust on her face. As the constant stream of filth finally ended, she walked over to remove the ductape that had been inhibiting him from breathing through his nose. By unblocking his nostrils, the urge to vomit suddenly came up and he spewed out his bitter stomach content. He vomited for more than half an hour and continued to retch even when his stomach was totally empty. Finally, he collapsed on the floor and lay there motionless in his own filth. Belinda was quite upset, she had been a nurse at the asylum for 5 years now and she had carried out this kind of treatments many times on different patients, but she had never let them alone for so long. She also never had patients in such a bad condition afterwards as Michael and by now she was really concerned about his health. Without even minding the stench and the filth, she hurried towards him and checked his pulse. It was irregular and his hands were ice-cold. "Michael, .Michael? Can you hear me, wake up Michael!" She held his head in her leap and laid her hand over his forehead to take his temperature. It was burning hot. Now she really started to panic. "Don't worry." She whispered more to reassure herself than her victim. "I am going to get Dr Stanfield. He will know what to do." She sprung up and ran out of the room.

Michael was lying there on the floor. His consciousness was slipping but the pain in his abdomen and his bladder seemed to dissociate from him. His body was producing an overwhelming amount of endorfine to relieve his suffering. Maybe I am dying. He thought by himself. Maybe this is the way to get out of this hellish place Although Michael had never believed in the existence of God or heaven and therefore had always dreaded death, he realized that at this moment, he was not afraid of it anymore. Death would be a relief and he would embrace it as a long lost friend. It would bring him no more pain and suffering, no more cold and hunger to endure. He would finally find rest. He closed his eyes with and a peaceful smile on his face as he drifted off .

He was standing in an open field at a warm afternoon. It was mid summer and the tall grass that reached till his middle was colored golden brown by the sun, field flowers were cradling their heads in a gentle summer breeze and there were sounds of humming insects and singing birds everywhere. His father was teaching him how to fly a kite. It was not particularly windy that day, but his father was skilled in almost every outdoor activity and before the eyes of a seven year old Michael he made the kite dance with it's tail swirling like a swallow in love. "You see Michael," his dad spoke to him "If you just let the rope go a little and don't try to control it too much, it's easy to let it reach for the sun!" Michael looked at his father with great admiration. "Can I give it a try dad?" He asked. His father gave him an encouraging smile. "Of course you can, I bet you are even going to be better with this than your old man." He handed the kite over to his son and Michael, mad with excitement, tried to keep up the kite as high as his father did. However, his inexperienced hands were unable to guide the kite sturdily and before Michael could correct his mistakes the kite took a dive and landed far away in the fields. Michael was disappointed and a little bit ashamed that he was unable to live up to his father expectations, but the good man gave his son a reassuring pet on his shoulders. "Hey, that went pretty well, you kept it longer in the sky than when I learned it the first time! I bet it's going to stay even longer up for the second time." Michael was relieved that his father was still proud of him. "Shall I get it so we can give it another try then?" He said with a happy smile on his face. "Sure, go get it! But hurry, it's already 4 o' clock and I don't want us to be late again for dinner!" Michael went off to collect the kite, he ran trough the tall grass as fast as he could to the spot where the kite had dropped. As he started searching, a silver colored object hidden in the grass caught his attention. He squat down to take a closer look at it. It seemed to be some kind of big mousetrap, only this one was made entirely of metal. It had caught something Michael didn't want to find out what it had caught, but a little voice in his head kept telling him to take a look. He finally could not stand the temptation and pushed aside the weed to see. Encaged in the bear trap was an amputated human leg, the spikes were driven deep into the flesh and the reddish colored open wounds were filled with maggots, eating away the flesh. The leg was swollen and turned already purple, but it still twisted in its restrains as though it tried to escape. Michael was in shock, as he watched the abandoned leg wriggle helplessly a shadow fell over him. As he looked up, he recognized himself as a grown man.

"I had to chew it off you see " He whispered "I had no other choice they had me trapped I was so scared, I had to get out .I had to chew it off." The young Michael was horrified as he realized that the adult Michael was missing his left leg, it was amputated to the knee, deep red blood oozed out of the wound and fell as rain droplets on the grass leaves. Flies were buzzing around the wound and some of them crawled inside the to lay eggs. Torn stripes of flesh were still dangling down his thigh-bone. "Go away!" Michael screamed. "Please go away! Leave me alone! No! No! NO! NO! NO! ."

The screams echoed in his head while he slowly regained his consciousness. As he awoke, tears were streaming down his face and he was bathing in his own sweat. He was lying in a hospital bed in a brightly illuminated room with no windows. The pain in his bladder and abdomen were gone, but he was feeling very weak, almost narcotic. Michael realized that he was unable to move his arms or legs, they seemed to be fixed to the bed by restrains. He tried to call somebody for help, but as he swallowed to lubricate his dry throat, he felt a sharp stinging pain. He tried to form words, but he was only able to produce weak incomprehensible sounds. In a panic reaction, Michael tried to lift up his head to see what was going on, but as soon as he moved he felt terribly dizzy and he had to lie down again to stop his head spinning. Terrified, he waited for somebody to come check on him. Although he still felt very sleepy, he didn't want to doze off since he was afraid to have the same nightmare again. Even in my sleep I cannot get any peace, he thought sadly. Why is there no pity in this world?

As he listened to the sounds from outside the room, he tried to recollect the terrible things he had been trough in the last couple of weeks. He had been reduced from a confident and physically strong human being into a shivering pile of misery, a shadow of the man he used to be. He almost had lost his sanity in the dark basement where he had to endure nurse Belinda's sadistic treatments. What more are these people going to do to him? What do they want? He knew that the doctor wanted him to confess to the crimes that they had criminated him with, but why did the doctor need his confession? If they had really trailed and sentenced him to life imprisonment in this institute, why would he bother with forcing him to confess? These thoughts were racing inside his head as the door suddenly opened and nurse Angelica came into the room. She gave Michael a warm friendly smile and put her hand on his forehead.

"Hi, are you feeling better now?" She whispered softly as if she was afraid to scare away some delicate bird. "ahhhgrrrgghhh hhgggh" Michael tried to speak but it was useless, he was unable to express himself and his attempts to speak were very painful.

"No! Don't try to speak! The doctor he had." Angelica hesitated to finish her sentence.

"Rgggr rgggrahhh!" Michael wanted her to go on, he wanted to know what the good doctor had done to him. "hhhgggrrr ffjfdd!"

"Stop Michael! Don't keep doing that! It's very bad for the healing process, if you keep on doing this you might never be able to speak again!"

As soon Angelica had spoken out these words she regretted them since she saw Michael's face hardened and his struggle to speak intensified.

"Grrhhhhfffgkdddsthggghh!"

"Michael, stop it! The doctor, he had to perform a trachea punction on you. You were not breathing by yourself anymore and Dr Stanfield was unable to insert the incubation tube in time to hook you up to the respiration machine. He had to cut open your throat to make a hole in your trachea in order to let you breathe. It it had damaged your vocal cords. It was either that or losing you. I am sorry Michael " Michael fell into a silence, he looked away from Angelica and stared at the ceiling, he thought that he will probably never hear his own voice again. He thought of all the times he had joined in with his favorite songs if they were playing them on the radio. Of all the times he cheered at a point scored or cursed at a point missed at the games of his favorite baseball team. Of all the sweet and obscene things he had whispered in Leasa ears when they made love. All these things he will never be able to do again, just because some sick doctor wanted him to stay alive so he can endure even more of his tortures! Tears of frustration ran down his face as Angelica stayed by his side and she reached out her hand to stroke his hear in order to comfort him but Michael didn't wanted her pity anymore and turned away from her.

Angelica didn't want to upset him, she draw back her hand and waited there in silence. Poor man, she thought, no wonder that you don't trust no one anymore after what you've been trough, but I wish that you would trust me. I will never be able to hurt you

After a while, she stood up and checked as cautiously as possible the tubes to which Michael's body was hooked up. Michael had been very ill; he had an influenza virus infection that had developed into pneumonia in his lungs. He had been balancing at the brim of death for three days before his situation finally stabilized. Still, his body was weak and tubes in which nutrition and fluid ran were inserted into his veins to feed him during his illness. In order to let him secrete the urine that had been painfully kept inside for so long, a catheter was inserted in his bladder that collected the urine in a plastic bag. He had been given sedatives to calm him down and leather restrains were used to fix him to the bed. A dirty looking bandage was wrapped around his throat in order to keep the wound germfree.

Angelica tried once again to comfort Michael when she returned to his bedside, Michael's head was still turned away from her, but she saw that his shoulders were shaking and she figured that he was still crying.

"Michael It's not so bad, Dr Stanfield told me that there is a good change that your vocal cords will heal perfectly and that you will be able to speak again. Just don't give up on yourself now and try to give them some rest in order to heal. Meanwhile, I am here for you. Are you in any pain? Do you need something?"

Angelica waited in silence for a reply, she didn't expect Michael to react to her, but she wanted him to know that she will help him as good as she can. Michael pretended that he didn't hear her and kept staring at the opposite wall. After a while Angelica got up from his bedside and started walking towards the door.

"I will check on you later "

As she stood in the corridor and locked the door behind her, she felt an emotion inside her that was a fusion of anger and shame. She was angry at the people that were in charge but had no pity whatsoever towards the patients, and she was ashamed because she was too afraid to stand up against them and do something about it.