C H A P T E R 6
Time: 2:00 AM
Location: Unknown
Dr. Heles eyes snapped open. The first thing he felt was the agonizing throb in his head; Blood trickled down his forehead, staining his pristine white coat with jagged crimson streaks. He was tied to a chair, his mouth gagged with a thick cloth.
He looked around. The room was bathed in a sinister red glow. Strange, sharp instruments lined the walls like silent executioners.
Clang...Clang...
The sound of an iron rod dragging against the concrete floor echoed from behind him. It was a slow, rhythmic metallic scrape that synchronized with his pounding heart. Each step closer felt like a nail being driven into his coffin.
Heles felt a presence—cold, murderous, and absolute—standing right behind his back. The scraping stopped.
A hand reached out and ripped the gag from his mouth. Without a single word, the figure turned and walked out of the room, leaving the doctor in a deafening, terrifying silence.
As soon as he could breathe, Heles screamed in a cracked, desperate voice, "Is anyone there?! Help me! Call the police!"
His eyes darted around like a trapped rat. To his right, a few feet away, sat a table with a surgical knife. A spark of hope ignited in his cunning mind. Even in this nightmare, Heles was a predator, a fox who knew how to find an exit.
He began to rock the chair, trying to hop toward the table. One leap... two... the chair wobbled dangerously, but he didn't stop. He planned to grab the knife with his teeth and drop it into his bound hands.
He was almost there. One more hop—
The door creaked open.
Heles froze. A figure stepped into the red light, dressed entirely in black. Only his eyes were visible—cold, indifferent, and devoid of any humanity.
"Who are you?!" Heles screamed, his voice breaking. "What do you want? I'm just a simple doctor! Killing me won't gain you anything!"
The figure didn't respond. Instead, a digital projection flickered onto the wall. Heles face turned ashen. On the wall was a video of him—injecting poison into a stable patient, harvesting organs with the clinical coldness of a butcher.
The stranger walked to the corner and picked up the iron rod.
"Who gave you the right to play with their bodies?" the voice was low, vibrating with a quiet, lethal rage.
Without warning, he swung the rod.
CRACK!
The rod smashed into Heles leg. The chair flipped, and a gut-wrenching scream tore through the room as the bone shattered.
Heles groaned in agony. The man effortlessly righted the chair and leaned in close. "How many? And who do you work for?"
"I've sold many...many body parts," Heles gasped through the pain. "I just... I n-needed the money. I did it for the cash!"
"Just for the money?" The man went silent for a moment. "I want money too."
"W-What? What do you mean? What are you going to do?"
The stranger picked up the surgical knife from the table. He stuffed the gag back into Heles mouth, muffling his terrified sobs. Then, with a sudden, violent thrust, he drove the blade into the left side of Heles chest.
Heles eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets. He could feel the cold steel slicing through muscle, scraping against his ribs. The man twisted the knife slowly, emotionlessly, as if he were carving a piece of wood.
Then came the most horrifying part.
The stranger pulled a pair of surgical gloves from Heles own pocket and snapped them on. With a brutal, raw force, he thrust his hand into the open wound. Heles body convulsed in unbearable agony. In those final seconds, every life he had snuffed out, every body he had desecrated, flashed before his eyes.
With one powerful tug, the stranger ripped the heart out of Heles chest.
The doctor's body went limp. The light faded from his eyes.
The man took a deep, steady breath, looking at the bloody organ in his hand. "Justice has been served. You won't play with another soul again."
A sense of chilling satisfaction crossed his face. He dropped the knife—Clatter—and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small white note and tucked it into the dead doctor's pocket.
[ Chapter 6 End ]