Topic: The Surgeon

Sortas

Date: 2007-02-04 08:07 EST
Robert Wilkins stared blankly at the woman before him. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was even. He made sure he gave her enough chloroform to keep her asleep long enough for him to prepare her.

The woman was in her early fifties. Her hair was dyed a light ash blond to try and disguise the grey, however her face belied her feeble attempts. The area beneath her eyes sagged even with her eyes closed, the wrinkles crisscrossing, making intricate patterns and giving the onlooker of an ordinance survey map of her life. Her lips were dry and cragged, with deep lines either side, beginning from the base of each nostril, leading down to her chin.

Robert looked at her in distaste. No wonder she wanted plastic surgery. No one would want to wake up with that staring at them in the morning. He checked to see if the restraints were securely fastened and made sure he had all the tools he needed for the job at hand. He felt quite proud of his makeshift operating theatre, which boasted his very own operating table (it was really a mobile stretcher which he purchased from an auction held at a retirement home for the elderly). There were gas and air bottles (which he rarely used for any of his operations, mainly because he didn't have the right equipment to set them up properly), and he even had a surgical gown and mask which he bought from a costume shop.

However, this was no hospital or indeed even a clinic in Harley Street. No, this was Robert Wilkins's garage in a leafy suburban area of London. The woman that lay before him was someone he had picked up at a bar that night, a sad lonely old woman who found the attentions of a reasonably good looking man too tempting to resist.

Robert was handsome in a quirky sort of way. He had olive skin which complimented his pale eyes. His thick black hair was loosely worn to just below his neckline, and his youthful looks belied his 40 years. He was wearing his surgical gown and gloves as he gathered his 'instruments' together. As he cleaned them with surgical spirits, he thought back to his meeting with 'Brenda,' the woman who lay before him. He hadn't meant to operate so soon after his last attempt, but it was too good an opportunity to miss. All evening she had moaned about how her love life had suffered since divorcing her husband, who incidentally left her for a younger model, and she bleated on about the virtues of plastic surgery and how it would change her life.

Because Robert always dressed immaculately, even when going to the shops, clean pressed shirt, dark trousers, polished shoes, he always gave the aura of someone affluent and important, which was an important factor in obtaining the confidence and trust of his victims. Therefore, Brenda assumed he was either a doctor or a lawyer, and he"not wanting to disappoint"went along with the charade that he was a plastic surgeon.

Sortas

Date: 2007-02-04 08:08 EST
When he mentioned this, her eyes lit up like Christmas lights, and she excitedly asked him a hundred different questions about what sort of procedures he did, how much it would cost etc. Luckily, Robert had done his homework, watching any documentaries on television pertaining to his hobby and reading any medical books he could get. He wasn't an expert, but he had a fair idea of how most cosmetic procedures were done. This is how he found himself in his dank dingy garage, a woman whom he hardly knew unconscious from the chloroform he had used, with the excitement that he always had just before he performed his masterpieces.

She had requested a face lift and had said that she would do anything to look younger. Robert had given her the usual banter and cautionary warnings about what cosmetic surgery would entail, and was she sure about this. However she brushed aside his warnings, which ironically were not far from the truth, and insisted he do the surgery for her.

After many drinks and her inevitable inebriation, he carried her to this car from the pub and drove her to his home. She was unaware of the chloroform hanky being placed across her face and even less aware of him stripping her naked and tying her to the table. However, she began to regain consciousness, which pleased Robert. It was always best when they were fully awake.

He finished sterilizing his instruments, which consisted of a serrated bread knife, three stainless steel skewers, a heavy duty office stapler, insulation tape which he had wrapped around her forehead and the table to keep her head still and bind her arms hands and feet with, and lastly a palette knife (important to lift the skin from the muscle tissue). He also had cosmetic tweezers, cotton buds and a small Stanley knife. He had tried to get a scalpel but it was near impossible to obtain proper surgical equipment unless you worked in a hospital, and being an estate agent like he was proved the task a non starter.

Brenda opened her eyes and immediately blinked rapidly at the harsh spotlight pointing at her face. Robert moved the floor standing lamp away from her face and peered down at her. She wanted to speak but her mouth was sealed by something, and she realized it was tape. She then tried to move but her arms were rigid as were her legs. As consciousness became clearer, fear replaced bewilderment, and then finally realization set in that her situation was indeed dire. Robert moved towards her with the Stanley knife, eager to proceed with his task.

Sortas

Date: 2007-02-04 08:08 EST
The first cut was to the side of her face from the temple, working his way down to her ear and along the jaw line. Brenda screamed into her gag, tears flowing freely down her cheeks, mingling the blood from the deep incision made crudely by the Stanley knife. Robert continued to work the knife under her chin and up towards her other ear, and resting on the left side of her temple, so that it looked like she was wearing a face mask. Blood oozed from the wound and although Brenda desperately wanted to pass out so that the intense pain would be no more, fate would have it that she remained conscious the entire time, even as he inserted the pallet knife under the skin and began to lift it from her face muscles, loosening the skin and pulling it slightly as you would when gutting and cleaning a fish.

Although his methods were clumsy and somewhat haphazard, Robert was remarkably stead of hand, neatly loosening the skin without tearing it, enabling him to stretch the skin so that the folds of skin and the lines that had so upset Brenda in the past would not be an issue anymore. He tugged the skin on the left hand side of her face, pulling it back under the ear. He needed to fasten it quickly before he lost the tautness he had achieved. He grabbed the stapler beside him and pressed the base to Brenda's tender skin. Brenda squirmed even more and tried in vain to scream, somehow anticipating what was about to happen.

"Thwack" Robert stapled the skin, just behind Brenda's left earlobe. "Thwack" another one, just above, to ensure stability. Now for the other side. Again he pulled the skin, maybe a little too much for the right side of her bottom lip began to rise in a grotesque 'Joker' like fashion. Again he stapled the skin just under the earlobe and then again to ensure it was in place. The staples dug deep into Brenda's flesh, the pain so great she soiled herself with the extreme agony of her ordeal. She began to feel the welcome release of unconsciousness envelope her but Robert wanted her full attention. He soaked some tea towels in cold water and began to wipe her face so that it would clear some of the blood. He was able to see where to start next.

Sortas

Date: 2007-02-04 08:09 EST
He took the palette knife and repeated the same procedure under Brenda's jaw line and chin. The skin on her face was so taut it pulled her features grotesquely out of proportion, making her mouth appear at odd angles and the skin under her eyes stretched, making her eyes seem slanted almost oriental. The blood loss seemed to have lessened slightly, and Robert wiped away the remaining residue, cleaning Brenda's face so that she looked surreal. Brenda had at this point gone into shock, and her body began to shake in spasms. Robert ignored this fact and continued to survey his work in detail. He felt that she would benefit from perhaps a smaller nose so he took his scalpel and made an incision just under both nostrils. He then realized he had made a mistake and that he needed to file the bone from inside, but couldn't quite remember how it was done. He frantically wiped his sweating brow, trying to recall the surgical documentaries he had seen in the past; however he was unable to remember. In frustration, peeled back the skin on Brenda's nose so that only bone and gristle were in view. He looked around at his tools but realized he hadn't brought a file. He picked up the bread knife and began to hack away at the bridge of her nose. The more the blood flowed the angrier he became, knowing he had completely ruined the operation, and he was just going to have to finish her off and bury the evidence.

Brenda was still in shock but still aware of what was happening. The pain was too great to comprehend, and the loss of blood began to make her feel light headed. Thankfully, unconsciousness took over, and she finally passed out. Robert took one of the stainless steel skewers and began to stab at Brenda's abdomen. He left the skewer embedded in her stomach and took another, this time thrusting it deep into her chest. Blood spewed into the air, covering his face and chest in a fine red mist. He finally took the last skewer and punctured her throat. Brenda's body shuddered, involuntary spasms making her look like she was being electrified, and then finally her body lay still.

Robert went over to the corner of the garage and unfolded a large plastic tarpaulin. He laid it on the floor as flat as the small area would allow and began to take the masking tape off the body. It was going to be a long night.

Sortas

Date: 2007-02-04 08:10 EST
Sarah Wallis lived next door to Robert. She always found her neighbor to be a strange fellow. Although he was pleasant enough to her, it always seemed he had a hidden agenda and he spent hours pottering about in his garage. Nothing unusual about that you may think, but he came and went at such odd hours, like now for instance.

It was 1:45 AM, and he was carrying a large bundle over his shoulder into the boot of his car. It looked heavy enough to be a body. Sarah scolded herself for being so silly. She really must stop watching those crime programs. They gave her ridiculous notions.

However, she couldn't stop wondering what it was he kept in that garage of his, and would it be worth a look. She couldn't sleep, and it looked as though he was off out for a while, as he started the car and drove off into the night. Now was her chance. No one would be about, it was dark, and she didn't see him lock the garage side door. It would be the perfect opportunity to see what her dodgy neighbor was up to.

She persuaded herself that she was doing the neighborhood a service. He may very well be a pedophile or something, with hordes of dirty magazines stored in the garage. He looked the type, she thought. She might be 72 years of age, but she knew a villain when she saw one. Never looked her in the eye, sure sign of a weak and deranged character, her father always said. She slipped on her coat over her nightgown and went to the front door, picking up her torch that lay on the hall table.

She ambled slowly across the small grass borders of her property and into that of Robert Wilkins's. She was pretty nifty for her 72 years and wasted no time in heading towards the side door of the garage. As she neared she could see a faint light from inside. He obviously forgot to switch it off. Well that was a result; it would save her stumbling around in the dark. She reached the door, hand grasping the cold metal doorknob.

Suddenly she felt the hair rise at the back of her neck, and what felt like warm breath brushing against the nape of her neck. She slowly turned around and found herself face to face with................nothing. There was no one there. She breathed a sigh of relief. She shook her head to clear her senses and reassure herself that there was nothing to be afraid of. She entered the garage and was faced with, what can only be described as sheer horror.

Sortas

Date: 2007-02-04 08:10 EST
The garage was not exceptionally large. It could house one small car and that's about it. However because of all the boxes and various brick-a-brac, and of course the stretcher in the center of the room, it appeared even more cramped and small. The light came from a floor standing spot lamp that can normally be found in most offices, but the eerie glow from it only accentuated the blood splattered walls and floors. The stretcher in the middle of room was covered in blood and clods of ...flesh?

Sarah put her hand to her mouth, bile rising forth, but she managed to suppress it. As she looked around she noticed the bread knife also covered in blood lying on an old hostess trolley, along with the scalpel, and blood sodden cloths he used to mop up the bloodied face of Brenda. Sarah could feel herself passing out, but willed herself to stay upright. She had to get out and call the police, something terrible had happened here.

She turned quickly and ran into the night. She gulped in vast amounts of air as her heart beat rapidly. She willed herself to remain calm, be damned if she was going to have a heart attack now. After a few moments she became a little relaxed and made her way towards her front garden. It was only then that she noticed Robert Wilkins's car was in the driveway.

Her heart stopped, and she furtively looked around her, but he was no one to be seen. She ran towards her house and realized her front door was open, the hallway in darkness. Again, fear rose like a tidal wave as she remembered she had shut the door and left the light on before she left the house. She walked to her front doorstep and slowly pushed the door inward. She gingerly stepped into the hallway and walked a few steps until she was at the entrance to her living room. It was then that Robert pounced. He covered Sarah's mouth before she could scream, smothering her with chloroform soaked cloth. She passed out almost instantly, her limp body falling to the ground.

Robert laid Sarah's motionless body onto his makeshift operating table, even though it was still soaked with the blood from his last victim. He rubbed his hands with glee, he didn't expect to get another patient so soon, and this one was perfect for the sort of surgery he had in mind.

Sortas

Date: 2007-02-04 08:11 EST
He bound Sarah's head with masking tape and did the same with her arms and legs, ensuring her body would be unable to move once she woke up. After 10 minutes Sarah began to come around, at first she was disorientated and even thought she was dreaming until her memory came flooding back of the night's events. Her eyes widened in horror. Robert stood over her with his Stanley knife in one hand and pallet knife in the other, an evil grin spread slowly across his face.

Just as he was about to make his first incision there was an almighty bang, and the garage door flew open. Three uniformed policemen and two plain clothes detectives rushed towards him, shouting at him to drop the weapon. Robert stepped back in shock and dropped both knives onto the floor. The uniformed men grabbed him and immediately handcuffed him, one of them reading his rights and the other holding him stiffly by the neck whilst holding his cuffed hands behind his back.

The detectives untied Sarah and helped the elderly woman to her feet. It was then the paramedics came in to attend to her. Robert was taken in a police van to the local station.

Meanwhile Sarah was curious to know how the police had found out about Robert. It was then that one of the detectives, DC Avondale, explained that he had received a call from a mobile at 9:00 that evening, from a woman. She claimed she was going to have plastic surgery that would change her life and that he would regret having left her for a younger woman. DC Avondale knew that no reputable clinic would operate at that time of night, and although the woman sounded very drunk, he knew she was telling the truth.

Even though the woman had not given an address as to where she was going, in her drunken haze she had forgotten to switch the call off, enabling DC Avondale to hear the sordid events that occurred that evening. He was devastated to hear every second of her agony, and regretful that the police tracers were unable to locate his ex-wife sooner, to enable them to save her life.

Sortas

Date: 2007-02-04 08:12 EST
Sarah Wallis was taken to the nearby hospital and treated for shock, and Robert Wilkins somehow never reached the station for questioning. It seemed the police van was run off the road, and three masked men took him and drove off into the night.

Three days later, that his body was found dumped in a nearby canal by a man walking his dog. The body was bloated and green. Apparently both his ears were cut off, as was his nose. All three body parts were never found, and his penis had been cut off and stapled quite indignantly to his forehead. The newspapers reported it as a gangland killing, or that's what the local police detective had told them. DC Avondale smiled as he read the article. He had done right by Brenda after all.