“Now,” Dr. Beste spoke quietly, almost soothingly to the patient. “Can you tell me your name?”
“I don’t have to tell you anything! I know my name, and you do, too…I am…Montezuma of the Aztecs!” He laughed, obviously joking and poking fun at the doctor’s probing questions. Dr. Beste’s calm demeanor disappeared suddenly, as his eyebrows furrowed and teeth clenched in frustration. Turning the dial on the machine next to the exam table, Dr. Beste smirked knowingly, and giggled to himself in delight as the patient cried out from the volts of electricity pounding in his head.
“You think that you’re funny, boy? Does having hundreds of volts pierce through your head feel funny?!” Dr. Beste composed himself once more, and asked placidly, “Now, can you tell me your name?”
“D-david Brown.”
“Good. How old are you, David? Do you know the current year?”
“I-I’m seventeen…a-and…the current year is…” He jerked as he attempted to escape his restraints. His body went painfully rigid as electricity bolted through him once again. “HORSE s**t!”
“Every time you try to escape, David, I’m going to shock you with a higher voltage. So if you’re smart about this whole interaction, you’ll cooperate and answer my questions. Got it?” David grimaced in response, the effects of the latest shock still immobilizing his jaw. “I repeat, what is the year? I need this information to determine your sanity level, David.”
“It’s 2012.” Bzztt. “A-ahh..I meant 2013. I forgot about New Years’ for a second,” he panted as he recovered from the third shock.
“Do you often forget major holidays or events…like the changing of the year?”
“What? No! I just made a mistake!” Bzzt. Another shock. “W-what was that for?!”
“For making the mistake…of wasting my time.”
***
Dr. Beste had finally completed the new patient’s chart—he had shocked enough information out of him, rather. While closing the door to the examination room, he found himself reading over his notes, only to be abruptly interrupted by crashing into his colleague, Dr. Roland. Pages of the chart scattered all across the drab hallway.
“Ah, please forgive me, Dr. Beste. I did not see you there.” Although he cursed the chipper man in his mind, he smiled politely regardless.
“It’s quite alright, Dr. Roland. You didn’t intentionally run into me, after all.”
“No, no. Of course not…were you evaluating the new admit to the hospital? I need to be briefed on his current state anyway…perhaps you could run the case by me?”
He is distracting me from my vital research! Joseph thought to himself, though he held his tongue and merely said, “Of course, Dr. Roland. It would be my pleasure.” He cleared his throat to prepare. “David Brown, 17, male. Admitted with scars on his wrists and limbs from obvious suicide and self-harm attempts. Perception of reality was in question, hence why I suggested using the electrodes to question him, but it seems that there was no need, as there was no indication of delusions or the like.” Dr. Beste smirked as he recalled the pleasure he received from watching the boy’s body go rigid unnecessarily.
“That’s all?”
“Until further notice, yes.” Joseph wanted to finish this conversation quickly, as he felt a need to do more “research.”
“Very well. I’ll see you at the meeting later, then.” Joseph nodded his head in affirmation, as his malice-filled eyes shimmered with his secrets.
***
Dr. Beste entered one of the patient rooms to discover Margaret, a girl in her mid-twenties with schizophrenia, rocking back and forth on her cot and mumbling to herself.
“Hello, Margaret. How are you feeling today?” Dr. Beste grinned, as if he cared. She was about as in touch with reality as he was remorseful.
“The aliens…are coming for me. They put a chip. In my head.” She pointed to her forehead and poked it fervently to emphasize her belief.
“I know, Margaret, I know. But, remember, I figured out a way to make the aliens leave you alone. Do you remember?” She shook her head in negation. “They’re afraid of snow! The cold makes them hypothermic to the point of death…and luckily for the two of us, I’m able to produce snow all by myself.” Dr. Joseph Beste giggled maliciously to himself as he unzipped his pants in front of the excited girl, who was bouncing up and down in anticipation of relief from her thoughts.
Once she had relieved him, her mouth was full of her white “medicine,” and he gave her the necessary pills to control her delusional thoughts.
“To help wash down the snow, dear.” He winked and chuckled as his power over his patients grew, their dependence on him ever stronger, for he was the only one who could make it snow.
He left Margaret’s room and headed for his favorite project’s room. Tim was the perfect candidate for his experiments, as he had Multiple Personality Disorder. What one persona knew, the others did not, luckily for Dr. Beste, so when Tim was out, Dr. Beste could do whatever he wanted to him, without fear of repercussion.
Opening the metal door, he questioned, “Tim?”
“Dad?”
“Hello, son. I brought you something to make you feel better.” Dr. Beste pulled out a syringe filled with dyed liquid and injected his own son. The liquid that Joseph developed was intended to act as a psychological tranquilizer, opening the mind up as a playground for him. Tim’s pupils dilated and his jaw went limp as the drug took effect.
***
“Stop! Restrain me! I’m going to probe your mind!” Joseph screamed, eyes pulsating with anxiety as he banged on the door of his room. Dr. Roland entered the room, with a syringe in his hand.
“Don’t worry, now, Joseph, Dr. Beste isn’t going to hurt you. He isn’t real, remember? Just a figment of your imagination…of your illness” Roland sighed. “Here’s something to calm you down.” After injecting Joseph with the sedative and watching it take effect, Dr. Roland closed the door to his patient’s room and walked calmly down the hall to the doctors’ meeting.
“If only he would forget his alter ego, then my treatment could be a success…and he would have no recollection of his fictional actions as a sadistic doctor…only of his present situation as my patient…” Dr. Roland mumbled into a tape recorder while walking. “He’s been he for so long now, I hope that between medication and further therapy, his psyche can finally be pieced back together, despite the damage done by said Dr. Beste.” Clicking the off button on the recorder, Roland continued to stroll down the hall of the psychiatric facility, as the screams of delusional patients echoed behind him.
*Commissioned for Seretti
