by Sergio Black
“Lisa Ann, welcome to Neu Greece.” The Mad Doctor looks away, briefly staring out the Sikorsky’s window, watching the blue water glimmer as they crash off the jagged rocks that surround Neu Cape Sounion’s shoreline. The Mad Doctor breaks his captivation, reaching down, he wraps his dark spotted fingers around the silver lever next to his seat before turning it counterclockwise. The sealed hatch releases with a small hiss as he shoves the door above his head like that of a 1983 DeLorean Classic. The Mad Doctor tilts his head toward the open exit, signaling Lisa Ann to get out. Lisa Ann smiles weakly, then uses her fingertips, tucking several strands of fallen hair behind her right ear. Shifting both eyes to her lap, she smooths over her blue skirt before standing and gracefully walking past the Mad Doctor who eye-fucks her like a bird of prey. Lisa Ann glances upward, grabs hold to the leather, oh shit handle that hangs above the entryway. Using the strap for support, she tries not to clonk down the small steps with little success, before jumping onto the uneven terrain with a faint CRUNCH! Lisa Ann, crossing both arms, begins to rub her shoulders in an attempt to generate heat and ward away goosebumps that plague her arms. She turns around facing the Mad Doctor who doesn’t let her speak but instead rudely holds up a finger and grins. “Uno Momento.”
The Mad Doctor forces his weight downward, and closes the hatch between them, creating a bubble of privacy. Turning on his feet, he walks past a row of opposite-facing recliners, to a brown door with a silver knob. Grabbing hold of the silver handle, he turns it with a small click and forces it open. Hunching over, he walks through a short hallway that yawns to a large cockpit with two leather seats on either side with identical yolks. The Mad Doctor leans forward and witnesses the SS pilot putting pink lipstick on his lips, his hair tied up with colorful elastic bands like a little girl, and he’s making duck faces in the side mirror. “Do you think I’m pretty?” The SS pilot makes duck lips to himself, completely oblivious to the fact that the Mad Doctor had entered the cockpit. The Mad Doctor cringes in disgust and clears his throat, “AHEM!” The pilot jumps forward cracking his skull on the overhead dash, rubbing his aching head, he looks back to the Mad Doctor.
“I was- My daughter’s birthday is this week. My wife and I are thinking about a clown, but can’t afford one.” The pilot, in his embarrassment, shies toward the window, attempting to wipe the pink lipstick from his lips to make himself presentable, but ends up smudging it all over his face in the process. The Mad Doctor rolls his eyes and rests his weight on the pilot’s chair.
“I have no words for this faggotry, you proclaim you know the strict policy against homosexualism, I’m sure they’ll all think you’re pretty when your corpse is broken and mangled at the boots of the Gestapo… Any case, I won’t report this incident, I’m just here to make a deal.” The pilot reluctantly nods his head, seeing as he has no choice, for he knows that an accusation of this magnitude would surely result in his demise. The pilot leans back so the Mad Doctor can whisper in his ear. “We’re gonna be a while, don’t go anywhere.” The Mad Doctor reaches a pale skinny hand inside his peacock coat, frisking his fingertips past a capped syringe, he grasps a bundle of money containing 10,000 Nazi banknotes. He pulls the bundle slowly, holding the crispy bills to his nose, he shuffles through them like a card deck and inhales deeply for maximum enticement. If he has learned anything over his long years, he knows that man is very susceptible to money, especially when they don’t have it. Andrew tosses the currency into the pilot’s lap. The pilot turns to face the Mad Doctor who shrugs his shoulders and bats his eyes in a mocking manner. “An incentive, for the clown,” says the Mad Doctor crudely. The Mad Doctor lifts his bony hand then claps the pilot on the shoulder and cringes.
“For God sakes, wipe that fucking lipstick off your face, ugh. You faggots disgust me.” The Mad Doctor stands upright and salutes a Heil Hitler, then swivels on his heels and treads through the narrow entrance to where he sat. He kneels on the plush auburn carpet, then looks around to ensure he’s not seen, then proceeds to frisk the outside of his chair for a small strap that he had hidden carefully between the corner of his and Lisa Ann’s seat. Snagging the brown strap with an index finger, he wiggles the thong free and yanks upward, opening his hinged seat which reveals a hidden compartment. Reaching inside the cubby hole, he wraps his moist fingers around the clutch of a black satchel. He hoists the satchel from inside the rectangular space and places the strap over his head, then secures the long strap around his right shoulder. The Mad Doctor turns to the door, grasping the lever, he turns it upright and pushes the door open, then hops over the steps and lands on the ground with the black satchel in tow.
Lisa Ann patiently stands in front of the chopper, gazing at her surroundings, enjoying the smell of fresh sea air. The Mad Doctor lands on the earth with a faint thud and walks next to Lisa Ann, gazing at the Temple of Poseidon and the beautiful Aegean Sea that surround them. Lisa Ann turns her head and lets her ocean green eyes fall on the black satchel.
“What’s in the bag?” The Mad Doctor looks at Lisa Ann, widening his gray eyes as if to say wouldn’t you like to know.
“All in due time, Lisa Ann, the time is not yet at hand to tell you. Soon though, I promise.” The Mad Doctor and Lisa Ann ascend uphill to the Temple’s foundation, stopping about midway between the helicopter and Temple. “You know what this is?” The Mad Doctor steers his head toward the Temple then stares at the monument’s architecture. “This Temple is said to be the center point of where a great war took place many centuries ago. They say the mainland and the island used to be connected but the war-ravished the area and sunk the land in-between. This Temple, and a few other non-essential monoliths are the only things that survived. They say these temples were built to contain secrets and honor the Gods that walked the earth. The ones we know as Superiors.”
Lisa Ann gives a break your neck nod and smiles brightly, as she swallows the Mad Doctor’s words as if she were Monica Lewinsky gobbling Bill Clinton’s wrinkled musty nutsack. “This is the site-” The Mad Doctor is interrupted in mid-sentence by the sound of his Halagrim ringing which plays Darth Vader’s Symphony (The Imperial March). The Mad Doctor pulls the small crow shaped device from inside his breast pocket and looks at the caller ID screen that holograms from the Crow’s eyes which reads: SUCKS ASS, then sighs. “Hold on, I have to take this.” The Mad Doctor holds up a wart-ridden index finger to hush Lisa Ann as he turns away. He walks several feet in front of her, then stops at the edge of where the barren land ends and the plentiful grass encircles the Temple. The Mad Doctor walks on the green landscape, looking back to Lisa Ann. He wants to ensure she’s not within earshot of his conversation set to take place and answers the call. Lisa Ann can tell by the Mad Doctor’s body language and tone of voice that he is less than enthralled.
“What do you want? I have told you about calling this number! No, I don’t want to go to your stupid house party, you fucking half-breed! This had better be dire or I’ll have your head on a platter. Wait, what? How did this happen? Put everyone on RED ALERT now! I want all assets pulled from the field and sent to the WACO base! I want that place sealed tighter than my asshole and that’s pretty tight! I don’t care about the contracts! Fix this mess! Or you’re dead! D-E-A-D! Dead!”
The Mad Doctor grabs opposite ends of the Halagrim, straining to snap it in half as though he were Superman. A few moments transpire as he twists the hard plastic, before giving up in frustration and hurling the Halagrim to the pasture. He raises a foot before repeatedly stomping the machine beneath his Oxfords until he feels a resonating CRUNCH! CRUNCH! CRUNCH! Satisfied that the Halagrim lies in shambles, he keels over, putting both hands on his knees, he’s winded and wheezes to catch his breath. Lisa Ann waits for the tantrum to subside before approaching with caution and hesitantly touches his shoulder like a soothing mistress.
“Everything okay, Dr. Rush?” The Mad Doctor shimmies her hand from his shoulder, then stands with seething anger.
“Do I look like everything
is alright, you stupid cunt! Nefarious just bent me over and showed me the 50 states!” The Mad Doctor whips around, craning his head toward her like a stork, coming face to face with Lisa Ann, his putrefying garlic breath wafts from the back of his throat, stinging her eyes. Lisa Ann at this moment can’t help but stare at his flittering lazy eye. The Mad Doctor slowly raises both hands at eye level, his fingers resembling petrified tree limbs. He looks from his hands to Lisa Ann’s face and focuses his eyes to get his point across.
“See my gnarled fingers? This will be my body if we don’t make this right! My general and physiologist are dead! Killed at the damning hands of that pesky Infamous Notoriously Nefarious!” The Mad Doctor can hear his dead mother’s voice echo in his ears, “FAILURE! FAILURE! FAILURE! YOU’LL NEVER LIVE UP TO YOUR FATHER’S REPUTATION! KILL YOURSELF YOU LAZY EYED FREAK! CAHAHAHAH!” Andrew throws his head back and begins battering his right fist into the side of his jaw while yanking fistfuls of hair with the other, his brain pounds against its cranium. The Mad Doctor curses loudly as if he’s plagued by turrets, “Fucking shit! Fuck. Get out! Get out! Get out! Let it out!” Falling to both knees, the Mad Doctor claws at his face, the long black fingernails gauging bloody trails in his skin, stretching from hairline to chin. The pain of his own torment relieves him from his mother’s cruel words, Breathing in deep the Mad Doctor grits his teeth and screeches like an infant, “EHHH! EHHHHH!”
Lisa Ann turns her back to Andrew, thoroughly disturbed by what she has just witnessed, she walks down the pebbly dirtway and sits on the chopper’s small staircase. Feeling emotionally humiliated, Lisa Ann fights the tears that well up behind her eyelids. The Mad Doctor, in his fit of anxiety, dips into his black bag, pulling out an inhaler, he shakes it before placing the mouthpiece to his lips, pushing the top trigger with a faint CHT! CHT! CHT! The Mad Doctor inhales large doses of Zanamivir deep into his lungs then staggers to stand upright, tucking the inhaler into his pocket. He regains his composure, then sets about fixing his disheveled hair before looking back at the chopper where Lisa Ann sits on the helicopter’s black buckboard in a less than sprite mood.
The Mad Doctor smirks at himself through pointy teeth, patting himself on the back, he reminisces on how well his plan has fallen into place... Lisa Ann finding her way into the N.S.W.P.’s main office was no coincidence. The Mad Doctor lined many pockets in the education system to ensure Lisa Ann was manipulated into taking an internship at the N.S.W.P. The Mad Doctor believes Lisa Ann is the descendant of a Savior whose ancestor fought in the greatest war unbeknownst to man. Whether she knows it or not, the Mad Doctor suspects Lisa Ann is a stepping stone to unleashing a world of infinite knowledge with unlimited capabilities. The Mad Doctor yells over the howling wind and waves to Lisa Ann.
“Lisa Ann!” Lisa Ann lifts her eyes, staring at the Mad Doctor, she wipes her eyes in an obscure manner. Standing up, Lisa Ann walks away from the chopper through the small patches of malnourished grass to where the Mad Doctor stands. He has both hands raised, on either side of his head, massaging his juddering temples. “Lisa Ann, that was unprofessional. Let’s forget about the last few minutes that transpired. Can we start over?” The Mad Doctor fakes a smile that looks coerced and awkward due to his disheveled appearance and lack of conviction. Lisa Ann folds her arms, before showing a remnant of a tasteless smile, still unconvinced of the Mad Doctor’s sincerity.
“I’d like that more than anything.” The Mad Doctor lets out a fake sigh, and puts on a cliché act of sincerity by wiping his forehead, before placing both hands on her shoulders, he falsely bats both eyes to feign emotion.
“Good. We’d better get started.” The Mad Doctor releases his cold grip, turning away, they continue to hike together uphill toward the Temple of Poseidon. Drawing nearer, Lisa Ann can’t help but be transfixed by the Monument’s archaic beauty, she lingers her green eyes on aged pillars. Admiringly, she contemplates the amazing stories the old Monument could convey if it had whispering lips. The Mad Doctor watches Lisa Ann, wondering what her imaginative mind is thinking. “What is it, Lisa Ann?”
Lisa Ann marches forward and stops at the edge of the Temple staircase. Squatting down, her eyes scrutinize the peculiarity of the monument’s engravings. Reaching out, her fingers brush lightly over the cool etchings that lead up the steps and around the Temple’s pillars. Continuing up the crumbling steps, Lisa Ann strides to the center, twirling in place, she looks around, the sea air blows briskly, causing her red hair to frame around her face like a photoshopped model.
“These markings... they’re very distinctive. I have seen them before, not in history books but in Grimoires. (Books Used by The Occult) I had a friend back in high school who was big into this stuff, she was fanatical when it came to conspiracy theories and anything supernatural, she disappeared mid-way through our senior year though, just vanished like she never existed. From what she conveyed to me, it originates from the Macedonians, predating the life of Jesus Christ, and these symbols lead to one place... the Cauldron.”
Lisa Ann walks forward, coming to a halt just a few inches from the old basin, and peers inside. Taking record of the empty center she reaches out, caressing her fingertips over the rough markings. “Doctor, you have to see this.” The Mad Doctor walks up the steps, passing rows of pillars, stopping just a few feet behind Lisa Ann, he canvasses the theories forming in her head like the fictional detective, Nancy Drew.
“What are you thinking, Lisa Ann?”
“These engravings, they’re not demonic, it’s a Religious warding. Against what, I can’t fathom, it has to be something powerful because they are very troublesome, I have never seen anything like them. There’s no beginning and no end, it just repeats itself. I’ve studied many cultures and these are the same engravings found in Neu Macedonian Occult Temples of Worship. Even though the lands themselves are considered sister nations, their cultures are very different. But somehow, they’re connected, I’m sure of it.” The Mad Doctor stands behind Lisa Ann, staring at her with fast fading approval.
“Very good, Lisa Ann. Can I share something with you?” Lisa Ann doesn’t turn around but just talks over her shoulder.
“Yes, anything.” The Mad Doctor drops his head, looking to the black satchel which still hangs from his shoulder, then slowly reaches inside, pulling out a pearl-handled knife. He rubs the end of his thumb against the blade’s recurved steel as if to check its slicing capability before looking forward.
“Lisa Ann, I must admit there is an ulterior motive as to why I brought you here... What if I told you, you’re not human, but a Superior? A very special Superior, actually. One whose bloodline is descended from Mother Mary. (Virgin Mary) What if I told you, Mary had twins and the wise men separated them at childbirth? So, if one lineage was killed off the other would survive.”
Lisa Ann is shocked and turns around, locking eyes with Andrew, her skepticism successfully elated, she desires to know more. “Well, Doctor Rush, I would have to respectfully disagree. I’m sure there would have to be something factual confirming your statements. I’m just plain old Lisa Ann, a devout Nazi Christian, nothing special here.” The Mad Doctor looks to various parts of Lisa Ann’s face to see if he can detect a lie, before eye hawking her desirable cheekbones.
“The Superiors at the station who have gone mad are not something of a coincidence. They’re jabbering was not all gibberish. They’re clues, you just have to focus on the finer detail. You will find that when you decipher specific words, changing tidbits here or there, it all starts to make sense. Like a protected mainframe to a supercomputer, you have to slowly decipher the user’s interface before you can get at what you truly desire. Thing is, the first clue was revealed a while ago. Curious as to what I was told?” The Mad Doctor pauses and purses his lips, he wants his downbeat tone to trick Lisa Ann into thinking he knows more than what he does, hoping that she will reveal knowledge to him that he was previously ignorant of, aspiring to fulfill his greater ambitions. He loves this psychologica
l tactic and dubs this term as fishing. Andrew lets his hollow deciphering eyes burrow deep into Lisa Ann’s conscience.
“They spoke of you, Lisa Ann, they spoke of you, and revealed things that even I questioned at first. But once I started digging, I found out the bizarre circumstances of your hospitalization. That riveting tale you told your parents and various doctors before they took your parents’ hush hush money in return for their silence? You bore a Demigod kid, right? After that, locating you wasn’t the least bit of trouble. Eight years ago, to this day is when I learned the prestigious value of your existence. All I did was cross-check medical transcripts in Boise, Neu Idaho from 2012. You’re 25 now and that would have made you 17 then. I can tell by looking at you that you’re her daughter. There’s no doubt about it, the resemblance is uncanny.” The Mad Doctor is transfixed by Lisa Ann’s emerald eyes that seem to be reminiscing. “Lisa Ann, I have a few other theories. Would you entertain me?”
Lisa Ann nervously nods, fixating her eyes on Andrew’s blade. She has stabbing pangs of uneasy unrest that stir in her gut, as if someone had plunged an invisible steak knife deep into her stomach and twisted it to enhance the sharp pain. “I suppose,” she replies. The Doctor twirls the knife in his hand.
“Lisa Ann, give me details why you mysteriously disappeared 6 months into your junior year. I know the truth; I just want to hear you say it.” Lisa Ann fights the urge to make eye contact, her cheeks go from ghost pale to cherry red with the sudden realization that her once long secret was no longer a secret. Staying silent, Lisa Ann folds her chilly arms across her bosom. Andrew smiles and has that smug look of one of those Asian kids who lands the winning checkmate at a chess tournament. “That’s what I thought. Give me your hand.” The Mad Doctor lifts a left hand, then wiggles his fingers forward as if to silently say, ‘C’mon give me your hand.’
Lisa Ann lifts her eyes from the knife, and rests them on his dead gaze; hesitating, she reluctantly raises her hand forward. The Mad Doctor snappily snatches her by the top of the wrist, holding it tight like a striking cobra, his fingers the fangs, her hand its next meal. He turns her hand over and raises the blade high, slices her wrist, the recurved blade cuts deep and almost strikes her vein, then he holds her hand over the empty Cauldron. Lisa Ann stifles a cry and grits her teeth to stop the yelp that boils in her throat, blood exudes from the lacerated wound, before seeping into the bottom of the pot’s etchings with faint drips. PTT... PTT... PTT... The Mad Doctor watches with fascination as the blood takes on a life of its own, traveling through the series of carvings like water flowing through a collection of canals. The Mad Doctor smiles fiendishly and licks his chops, holding tightly to her wrist, he squeezes the lacerated lesion with all the force he can muster.