While Hector was busy complaining to Dr. Porter, Jurgen moved right behind him with a nightstick in his hand. As soon as Hector finished his verbal threats, Dr. Porter signaled with her eyes to Jurgen to knock him out. After a hard blow to the back of his head, he was out cold.
“Thank you, Jurgen,” said Dr. Porter. “Let’s lock Hector into Mr. Elliott’s empty cell. Among the tests that the CIA wants me to perform, is to find out how two agents can function as a unit, while they both are under the influence of the experimental drug. Let’s give a ‘happy pill’ to Eddie the Butcher, and another one to Dr. Jon Thorton.”
“Thank you so very much, Dr. Porter. I vas very afraid that there vill be no show-time tonight, but it vill be very interesting to see Hector in hand-to-hand combat vith two lunatics at ze same time.”
After Dr. Porter personally made sure that Eddie the Butcher and Dr. Jon Thorton ate their happy pills, they fell into a period of restless sleep. While the lunatics were in a state of semi-consciousness, Jurgen carried them to the cell, one at a time, and then locked the door. “OK, Jurgen – let the show begin. Get a bucket of cold water.”
When Jurgen returned with a large bucket of cold water Dr. Porter instructed him to, “Try to douse them equally. For the best test results, I want you to wake up the lunatics at first. I want to see if they will attack each other, and whether or not they will follow my orders.”
Eddie the Butcher and Dr. Jon Thorton were both revived at about the same time. They instantly looked at each other with a crazed look, as if ready to attack one another.
“Stop! Eddie and Jon – you are on the same team. You must not attack each other,” said Dr. Porter as she turned to Jurgen and said, “OK – try to wake up Hector. Let’s see if he can put up a good fight.”
Hector was a strong, sturdy Latino, about six feet tall, and 235 lbs. He was an ex-Marine, and held a black belt in Taekwondo. He quickly woke up when the water flew up his nostrils. After a quick sneeze, he was wide awake, and he instantly guessed what was going on when he noticed the wild-eyed look in Eddie the Butcher and Jon Thorton’s eyes.
Hector instinctively assumed a wide, Karate kata stance with fists clenched at his side. Eddie was the first one to charge him. Hector peppered his face with powerful punches to his face, and a knee thrust to his crutch – yet Eddie just pushed forward. Before Dr. Thorton could join the battle, Dr. Porter tossed him a small, metal teaspoon. He smiled as it brought back vivid memories of scooping out eyeballs from live victims. The cell was a small, tight room, so although Hector continued to land impressive punches and elbow smashes, he was soon tackled down to the ground when Dr. Thorton got a hold of his pants and tore them off his body.
With his genitals exposed, Eddie the Butcher became very focused on the body part which reminded him of his sausage factory days. He wrestled Hector’s legs apart and bit right into his exposed penis. Hector screamed out loud at the top of his lungs in horrible agony… Eddie not only bit it off his penis, but he chewed and swallowed it as if it was the finest knockwurst in the land.
While Hector was preoccupied with his crotch under attack, Dr. Jon Thorton grabbed a handful of Hector’s hair, and steadied his head as he plunged his teaspoon right into Hector’s eye socket. This time, Hector let out more of a whimpering, subdued scream as his body was rapidly going into shock.
The ruckus of the battle encouraged many of the other crazy inmates to begin screaming as well. Poor Anthony was awake in his padded cell down the hallway. He wondered if the screaming involved torturing of his new-found friend, Todd Waddington.
By the time Dr. Thorton finished scooping out Hector’s other eyeball, the fight was effectively over. Dr. Porter said, “The CIA will certainly praise me for a very insightful report I’ll write tomorrow.”
“How vill you report Hector’s death to his friends und family?” asked Jurgen.
“I’ll tell them the truth – Hector was careless to get himself in a bad situation with two lunatics who over-powered him. That can easily happen here if one is careless. By the way, Jurgen – tomorrow I need to advertise to hire a new security assistant for you. I hope to find a real man like you to be your protégé.”
“Thank you, Dr. Porter, for ze compliment.”
CHAPTER 13
The next day, Dr. Porter and Jurgen began a new, temporary policy of refraining from any physical abuse of any of their inmates, including Todd Waddington and Anthony Elliott – although Anthony continued to experience the anguish of being retained in his straightjacket in the padded room down the hall. With the loss of Hector, they were clearly under-staffed, and their priority was to hire a replacement. Once they hired a new replacement, they needed to be sure that the new employee was cut from the same mold as Jurgen – a man who was an ‘alpha male’ type, who enjoyed violence as a sport – and very importantly, a man who shared Dr. Porter’s disdain for UFO enthusiasts.
Dr. Porter was pleased to quickly get an application from a qualified man by the name, ‘Leroy Jackson’. She arranged to personally conduct his job interview.
Unbeknownst to Dr. Porter, the man she was about to interview was an undercover shill. He was a local deputy and friend of Nataliee Cunningham – Anthony Elliott’s fiancé. Any previous, legal attempts to obtain Anthony’s release had failed, so their only remaining option was to help him escape from the high security asylum…
Leroy showed up 30 minutes before his scheduled interview with Dr. Porter. The ground-floor receptionist handed him a typical employment application form to fill out. At 3:00 PM, he was led through the security check points and taken up to the third floor. When Leroy exited the elevator he made the observation, “Man, this sure is a grim looking place. I’d sure hate being locked away in here.”
A tough-looking, blond man dressed all in white simply told Leroy, “Please follow me, und I vill take you straight to Dr. Porter’s office.”
Jurgen knocked gently on the door, and she said, “Come in.”
Dr. Porter looked at Leroy with her usual, staring eyes that never seemed to blink. She said, “I’m Dr. Agnes Porter, director of the ward for the criminally insane. Have a seat.”
Leroy extended his arm for a handshake, but Dr. Porter just sat down and began to read over his application. Leroy felt uneasy at the totality of her silence.
A few minutes later she spoke, “Mr. Jackson, you have excellent credentials. I see you recently graduated from the police academy in New Orleans and that you are resigning from your position as a county deputy. Tell me why are you quitting your current position after such a short time?”
Leroy was a good looking, athletic, black guy who fancied himself as a ladies’ man. This was the time for him to turn on the charm. Leroy had a ‘winning smile’, which he used extensively throughout the interview. He said, “Dr. Porter, the sad truth is that the sheriff I work for is a racist bigot. He always calls me ‘boy’ and uses racial slurs all day long. I’ve tried to politely ask him to change the way he talks to me, but he just keeps on doing it. Besides, I once arrested two drunken, white guys in a tavern. They clearly resisted arrest, so I got kind of rough with them. It was hard for me to stuff handcuffs on them, but I managed to apprehend them – and then the sheriff made me sick by saying, ‘That’s no way for a spade to treat white guys’, so he actually un-cuffed them and let them go. That’s when I decided to look for a new job.”
After taking in a few deep breaths to relax after discussing his previous job, Leroy continued, “I understand things can get pretty rough around here too. I studied years of Jiu-Jitsu, Aikido, and Judo. Besides, they teach you lots of restraining holds at the police academy.”
A barest trace of a smile came across Dr. Porter’s face. She said, “Yes. Things get quite rough here all the time. Many of our patients need to be placed in straightjackets frequently. We have some very dangerous patients here on the third floor. If you ever let down your guard, it can be a fatal mistake.”
“You know, I also used to compete in ama
teur boxing. The ref always reminded each fighter at the beginning of the match to, ‘protect yourself at all times’. I’m well aware of keeping up my guard. I wouldn’t want to get sucker-punched.”
“I have just one final question for you: do you believe in UFOs?” asked a curious Dr. Porter.
“UFOs? Hell no. Anybody who believes in that stuff must be totally crazy. Those people ought to be institutionalized.”
At this point Dr. Porter stood up and extended her arm to shake hands with Leroy. “Congratulations, Mr. Jackson. You’ve got the job. Please report for work tomorrow morning at 8 :00AM.”
Leroy flashed his biggest smile and said, “Thank you ma’am. I’m going to get a big kick out of working for a lady in authority. I’ll see ya in the morning.”
Every time that Jurgen passed by his cell, Todd expected to be zapped by a Taser or punished in some capacity based on his shenanigans to avoid eating the ‘happy pills’ the night before. Todd guessed correctly that, “This must be the calm before the storm.”
The following morning, Leroy arrived at the State Mental Health Institute bright and early. The morning receptionist at the ground-floor desk asked him what size he wore. She issued him a pair of white pants and a tight-fitting, white t-shirt. She said, “You may use the locker room down the hallway to change into your uniform. Here is your name badge, which is to be worn at all times. Make sure to leave all your personal items such as your wallet and car keys in your locker. Once you get to the top floor, you will be issued a Billy club and a Taser.”
The elevator took him up to the third floor’s security checkpoint. The same, blond man from the day earlier was more talkative, now that Leroy was an employee. Speaking with a distinct, German accent he said, “Mr. Jackson, velcome to hell. I am Jurgen, ze head of security, und your direct supervisor. Here is your wooden club. Do not hesitate to use it. Zhis is your Taser. Do you know how to operate it?”
“Yeah, they taught us how to use them when I was in the police academy.”
“Good. Ve use Tasers to protect ourselves against patients when they misbehave, und sometimes ve use them on our patients when ve just get bored.”
Leroy bit his tongue to avoid making a wrong comment.
Jurgen punched in a four digit number on a keypad which allowed them to pass through a formidable-looking solid steel door. Jurgen told Leroy to memorize the password code, ‘7734’, to open all entrance doors.
“I’m sorry, man, but I ain’t so good at numbers. How do you ‘spect me to remember it in the heat of the moment?”
“It is a rather simple number to remember since ‘7734’ upside-down spells ‘HELL’.”
Leroy tried to act friendly by saying, “Man, that’s real clever.”
Once they passed through the solid steel door, Leroy got the creeps when the door slammed shut behind them. The eerie sounds of insane cries coming from nearly every holding cell permeated the hallway.
“Good timing,” said Jurgen. “Ze patients are hungry for food.”
Leroy noticed that all of the patients lived in solitary confinement. As they walked down the hallway, he was looking for a tall, young man fitting Anthony Elliott’s, but he didn’t see him among the first dozen or so cells they passed by.
A patient’s sudden lunge at the steel door, accompanied by a boisterous, beast-like scream, caused Leroy to back up a few steps – but he had backed up too far. He felt a powerful grip pulling on his left forearm from the patient who occupied the cell on the opposite side of the hallway. Leroy instinctively broke loose by hitting the patient’s hand with his nightstick.
“Good instinct, Mr. Jackson, but here on ze third floor you need be careful at all times… Allow me to introduce you to some of the more notorious celebrities ve have living here. The man who grabbed you is known as ‘Eddie the Butcher’. He is into cannibalism, und he used to work in a sausage factory. His secret ingredient in ze Knockwurst was human flesh. He is a very dangerous man. Never let him grab any part of you. He vill try to bite it off und swallow it.”
Jurgen pointed at the cell opposite from ‘Eddie the Butcher’ and said, “Ze man who scared you with his scream is Dr. Jon Thorton.”
“I think I remember hearing ‘bout him. Ain’t he the dude who used to scoop out eyeballs out of his live victims?”
“Yes – zhat it correct. He did all his damage with nothing more than a silver teaspoon.”
Leroy shook his head in disbelief and commented, “Yeah man, I see what you’re saying about this place being like hell.”
Jurgen continued his tour and said, “Here ve have our most famous patient of all. His name is Todd Vaddington, also known as ze ‘Texas Chainsaw Masochist’. He is a very dangerous man very big und tall – strong as an ox… He lived alone in the old house he grew up in. His rather unusual behavior began soon after both his parents died.”
Leroy stared at the monstrous man. He was curious to find out more details about the famous Texas Chainsaw Masochist. “Please tell me more.”
“He liked to play an almost child-like game with his victims. His favorite game was to capture individuals, usually men who vere of ill repute. He would knock them unconscious und bring zhem either to his house or to the morgue vhere he vorked at. He vould playfully take turns torturing his victim, and zhen he vould torture himself to make it a fair game. Before incinerating his victims at ze crematory, he vould cut off a hand from the victims as a keepsake. However, vhen ze rush of ze competition vas over, a deep depression vould set in. He alvays proceeded to mutilate himself in ze most hideous of manners. Zhat’s how he earned ze nickname, ze Texas Chainsaw Masochist.”
“Man, I never heard anything so dang nasty in my whole life,” said Leroy while he continued to stare at the infamous killer… His nose was cut off so close to his facial surface, his nose openings resembled the nasal passages on a skull. Deep, ugly scars crisscrossed across his face in random fashion. Much of his upper lip was missing to expose his chipped upper teeth. Although he still had both of his eyes, the left one looked nightmarish since his eyelid was missing. While both of his thumbs looked normal, each one of his other fingertips had been cut back to the first knuckle. He was by far the most gruesome-looking human being Leroy had ever seen.
“Ve never send any of our staff into his cell alone,” said Jurgen, “unless of course any of our staff should require disciplinary measures. I varn you, Mr. Jackson – never make Dr. Porter upset vith you. Zhat is definitely not in your best interests.”
As they walked further down the hallway, Leroy was excited to see a plastic mail box with Anthony Elliott’s nameplate on it, but his excitement was very short-lived. Anthony’s holding cell was empty. Leroy asked, “So what happened to this dude?”
“Dr. Porter became very angry with this young man. Ve had to put him in a straightjacket two days ago. He is in a padded cell at ze far end of ze hallway.”
Suddenly, a loud horn sounded by the steel door security checkpoint. A jittery Leroy asked, “Does that blaring horn mean something bad is happening?”
“No. It only means that breakfast is served.”
Jurgen demonstrated how to safely deliver a simple bowl of oatmeal to the patients without placing the staff at risk of being attacked.
“Alvays tell them to step away from the door if they expect to be fed, and then pass the bowl through the small opening at the bottom of each door. After they are finished, they will place their empty bowl next to ze door opening.”
After Leroy had safely served about a dozen of the patients, he volunteered to deliver the oatmeal to Anthony Elliott.
“You vill have to spoon feed him,” explained Jurgen. “Dr. Porter gave us strict orders that the young man is not to be released from his straightjacket until he tells her face-to-face that UFOs und aliens do not exist.”
“Sure thang.”
Leroy punched the number ‘7734’ on the keypad outside Anthony’s padded cell. He heard a click as the door lock released. He entered the dimly lit roo
m holding a small bowl of oatmeal with a plastic spoon. He shut the unlocked door behind him and sat down next to a young man sitting on the floor. The guy slouched forward with his arms wrapped around his torso inside an uncomfortable-looking straightjacket. Anthony just sat there quietly in a meditative state, with his eyes closed.
“Hey man, I’m working here undercover to help you escape,” said Leroy. “I know you’re Anthony Elliott.”
Anthony continued to sit there in motionless silence without opening his eyes. Leroy continued to speak, “Your fiancé, Nataliee Cunningham, miraculously escaped from an extraterrestrial prison in the mountain caves. She is alive and well. She made it back to her parents’ house.”
Anthony opened his bloodshot eyes and asked, “Who are you?”
“I’m Deputy Leroy Jackson. I’m work for Sheriff Blake in War Eagle. We need to spring you out of here. It’s all going down tomorrow night after the lights are turned out. I can’t talk any longer before they get suspicious. They just think I’m their new employee. Now Anthony, you just got to do something this afternoon. You see, we can’t rescue your ass if you’re stuck here in a straightjacket. You need to be a whore for Dr. Porter and take back your story about aliens and stuff. You need to do whatever it takes to get you back to your usual holding cell.”
A single tear slowly ran down Anthony’s cheek. He said, “I thought Nataliee was dead for sure. It’s been so terrible in here that I just wanted to die. Things got so bad that I thought I could get myself killed by spitting in Dr. Porter’s face, since I knew the punishment would likely be death.”
“I see what yer sayin,” said Leroy. “After all, ya don’t wanna be locked up with the Texas Chainsaw Masochist, you know.”
“Actually,” explained Anthony. “Somehow, that monstrous-looking guy and I struck up a friendship. I told him my story about how the aliens abducted Nataliee on the night of our High School Prom, and somehow he took pity on me. He said that he believed in my story of alien abduction. He refused to kill me when I was locked up in his cell a couple nights ago, so I feel I owe him my life. Anyway, Dr. Porter and Jurgen got particularly upset when Todd Waddington refused to kill me. The other assistant named, Hector, was nice to warn me, but I think something bad might have happened to him.”
Texas Chainsaw Masochist Page 9