Chapter Five: Mental Impressions
The carbon dioxide expelled from the doctor’s victims still resides in the lower chamber of the hospital. The boiler level holds these traces like a sealed time capsule maintaining DNA.
Dr. Jeffery Hopkins comes into a sizable inheritance by a wealthy benefactor.
Widely acclaimed in the medical field for his genius, Jeffery boosts this prestigious status by developing a state of the art medical facility. The advanced technology it houses plays an important role in Jeffery’s criminal trial; the government adopts the facility’s cutting edge research as a credible technique and incorporates those findings into their investigations.
Imprinted into a storage folder contained in our body is DNA coding, specific to each person we’ve come into physical contact with, during our lifetime. This alone isn’t enough to convict Jeffery of being responsible for the missing persons (once registered as patients of the hospital). Nor is the incinerator he uses to dispose of their bodies, holding the remnants of their DNA coded on the inside surface of it. What determines his guilt is the capability his facility has to probe a sleeping man’s memories, and then to reveal the man’s past happenings, recorded within his brain cells, and then to be displayed for all to witness on a visual monitor.
Investigators, aware of the doctor’s guilt, probe further to offer resolution for the grieving families. They expose publicly the details of what happened to the missing victims.
Before Jeffery is found out, Brandon is faced with the challenge of going down into the boiler room with the doctor and there document his vile tendencies. Zeke has installed monitor cameras to record the situation. The stone that Brandon possesses performs similar functions.
The doctor is selective in that he chooses those without proven signs of STDs, after studying the test results of the patients’ blood work. He never bothers to use contraceptives to prevent the transference of his DNA imprints into the victim’s cells, and vice versa.
There is a radio broadcasting a lulling melody that the doctor has set up; the song echoes as he and patient are down there. All Fair by Lovelite drowns out the droning of heavy machinery and the hellish, childlike cries released by the steam gauges. Dr Hopkins initially handles his victims with a gentle approach, wooing them into a relaxed state of submission, seductively suffocating them, doing as he pleases with them, then disposes of their bodies.
No one has ever escaped from the doctor’s control once they are down here with him.
Brandon contemplates that terrifying moment which brought him here to this hospital. The power of the rune stone fills in what happened after his mind blacked out at the doorway of Fish & Chips, as Brandon gets up out of his hospital bed and makes his way to the basement…
The group of guys barge into the office, having knocked Brandon and Alfonse unconscious at the front entranceway of the restaurant. The group has come to take revenge for Zeke’s bold moves in the mall the night before. In addition Frankie needs to find out where the stone is that Zeke is suspected of taking from the house, where the stuffed animal party was held. As a bonus, the men are given the option to make out with the cash stowed in the office safe.
Having monitored each one of these guys closely for nearly a year, Zeke easily distinguishes one masked rival from the other, by their unique body language. Bruce is the most prominent displayer of clues, and the closest to Frankie; this Zeke uses to his advantage.
Making it to the back in a hurry, Zeke takes a seat behind the manager’s desk. From there he waits for the three to enter. Rather than with shock, he greets them with a smile.
“Hello, Bruce!” Zeke adoringly welcomes.
Frankie is dazed by the scandalous insight, struggling to make sense of it. Amped up on injected testosterone, Frankie is prone to rage and blind fury in these extreme circumstances.
As all three guys fight with personal conflict, struggling to maintain a grasp on things, Zeke adds, “Remember to go easy on me, Brucie; don’t mess up the face; and mind my smile!”
Speaking a personal quote intimately whispered only between Bruce and Frankie, it’s enough to cause both men to become unglued.
“Missin’ Missin’, all your kissin’,” Zeke smiles, then cleverly whispers…“I slipped a special note into your stack of money,” giving Bruce a sly wink. Infuriated, Bruce draws back his arm, wanting to direct his glove-covered-fist against Zeke’s mouth, pound his front teeth in, then with a left jab mash in Zeke’s nose, obliterating bones and pulverizing flesh into pulp.
The wilds of Hell (with all of its furious passion and vindictive vengeance) explode in the depths of Frankie’s temper. Jealousy attacks like piercing claws into his mind. It’s a lethal toxin blocking out intuition of a trap. It demands that now is the most important time in his life ever; this two-timing philandering must be dealt with now. All the anger harbored toward Zeke, for setting him up at the mall, redirects at Bruce. Frankie raises the fiercely gripped baton used against the other restaurant employees (imagining Bruce on his way to give Zeke an indulgent kiss on the lips) and strikes it against Bruce’s head as he’s approaching Zeke.
Bruce seems unaffected, from Frankie’s standpoint. In reality Bruce’s nerves cause him to move about as though still conscious. Frankie determines the only way for his bff (bro-friend forever) to learn his lesson is with strict punishment so extreme that he never considers misbehaving with another guy again. Frankie lays into the skull of Bruce once again, as his homosexual lover is slumped on the floor of the office.
Frankie, with a limited field of vision, can’t see that the other goon with him, Bentley, is overtaken and put down by Zeke. As the second strike of the baton hits Bruce…Bentley is struck by awe witnessing the sheer violence. Fear questions what to do if the baton is turned against him, directed at his skull, then to be cracked into to pieces like a ceramic cereal bowl.
Zeke, in the meantime, walks around the side of the manager’s desk and drops Bentley with a 28 million volt stun-gun, fashioned to look like a 9.5” led flashlight. The amplified snaps the sparks make when testing the device in the past are absorbed by Bentley’s body, or rather his neck, when the prods are pushed against this exposed region. Zeke stands idly by, in a defensive posture, preparing for a redirected attack. What the security cameras don’t reveal is that Zeke is waiting for Frankie to ride out his brutality. As the unrelenting fury rages on Zeke wonders if the madness will subside from the graphic displays of human blood now seeping out the victim.
An alarm sounds. Zeke realizing by not stepping in, authorizes may blame him for not taking action. Lunging forward he squeezes the button of the taser. A shock of fear strikes Zeke’s body, considering the battery could be drained, as Frankie swings with a brutal backlash, sending Zeke flying backward. The force Frankie yields exceeds far beyond the physical capabilities of an average man. If it’s due to the testosterone pumping in his veins, why didn’t the electric charge take him down? Getting up Zeke tests the device, the sparks repetitively snap.
This is the moment he’s been waiting for. The moment he’s dreamt about since the thought occurred to him, when Brandon instigated the notion. Zeke steps over Bentley’s body, and hesitates when Frankie lifts the baton to swing at Zeke’s skull. Zeke then steps forward and leans into the attack. With his right leg drawn up he delivers a swift and powerful kick to Frankie’s gut. Even with that tactical vest and chest protector worn underneath, Zeke is assured by the way his foot lands. It produces the sound of Frankie’s ribs breaking. The visual gratification is exponentially rewarding, as Frankie expels yellow bile that vomits out his mouth, while he keels over with the wind knocked out of him.
Zeke takes a quick glance at the monitor screen that displays the front entrance and notices a man bent down at the side of Brandon. He’s still collapsed at the entranceway. The man’s family stands at a distance, horrified by the sight.
Getting on the office phone Zeke dials 911. “
911 operator. What is your emergency?”
Responsibly Zeke answers “I’m at 5537 Main St, at the Fish & Chips. There’s been a break in. You need to send multiple emergency transport vehicles. Two employees are critically injured. They’ve sustained serious head trauma. A third victim is possibly dead. Send multiple law enforcement personal, the suspects are still on the scene. I’ve subdued the robbers with a stun gun. The third assailant is the one whom I presume is dead. Please get them to hurry! My name is Zeke Manchester. I’m the manager here, and I’m going to check on my coworkers.”
With that relayed Zeke hangs up. He stows the tactical flashlight into the top draw to the manager’s desk. He eyeballs other personal items contained there. The question is: would Frankie be dumb enough to bring up the stone? Would it be taken in as evidence? Would investigators or law enforcement later confront Zeke and ask for it?
Zeke takes his chances, leaving it there in the drawer, resting it in the hands of fate to learn for sure if he’s the one meant to have the relic.