Pharmaceutical Therapy

I beg of you, listen to my story.

It started back when I was in college, I knew no-one and had no friends. I was always a rebellious child, never doing what I was told, breaking to rules to appease those around me which laughter and idiotic glares. I knew people hated me for it, but I liked the hate. No-one actually found me funny per-say, they were laughing at me, not with me. That was until I met my friend Gordan. He was always a smart person, much better then the dribbling buckets of waste I decided to entertain for unknown reasons.

Me and Gordan were talking and he actually liked how I never took anything from anyone. He asked me what is was that dragged me down the path of the art known as medical healing, or in other words, why I wanted to be a doctor. I always told him 'Because it's good pay' but I never told him the real reason. He told me his family ran a therapy session which helped to heal those in needs with medicine, the called it 'Pharmaceutical Therapy' and I knew, this could help me, well, help my family.

My younger brother David was suffering from schizophrenia ever since our parents died, they were killed in a robbing which turned ugly. We took him all over to see to his problem but nothing worked, he only seemed to got worse. He even bit a chuck on meat from a psychiatrists shoulder one time and was sent to a mental asylum, under psychiatric watch for two weeks. When he came back, they sent him away to specialist, but he refused to leave the house, even though him and I are the only people with keys to get inside.

But getting back to my original point, I took my younger brother to see Gordan. Gordan had mentioned that his parents let me oversee the psychical and mental assessment of the patients, but it must do alone, which I found rather odd. Normally close family members are allowed to sit in and observe. But this wasn't the case. As I had two hours to kill, I decided to wonder around the town, pick up some food for David and Gordan, buy him some presents if he's been good. Normally those presents go to waste, as he always comes out worse then when he went in, but not this time.

When David left that room with Gordan he seemed, different.. Almost like a translucent husk of the brother I knew. He was happy, smiling, cheery and actually enjoyed the things around him. I thanked Gordan and went to pay him, but refused my money, claiming 'Friends don't pay.' I handed his food over and we left the shop. David pulled out a box of vials and needles, he was supposed to inject them into his arm every six hours. The vials were red, which little specks on pink floating about inside. I had no idea what Pharmaceutical Therapy was, but it was surely a miracle.

I took David to see Gordan ever week and things started to change, he never hurt people, never got mad or tried to destroy the things in his path. Instead he was acting like a normal, teenage boy. I even caught him with a girl in his room at one point, to whit I just left.

It was around the fourth month of visiting Gordan that things started to get weird. Instead of injecting the vials, David just began to drink them like they were water, his dosage increased as well, this time he was walking around with about eighteen vials for a dosage of three hours. I found this to be a very strange event, so as he slept, I stole one of the vials and took it to the college we went to. Luckily one of the teachers, Mr Tooland, was still around, working late like always. I entered the college to ask for his help.

He took the vile for analysis, I wasn't too worried as it could just be some normal, medicinal liquid used to user the ailment known as schizophrenia, but was swept under the rug due to it being experimental. As the teacher returned, he threw the vial in the bin and gave me a scowl, claiming I was a stupid child, playing a trick on my teacher. I asked him what was inside of it, he refused to tell me since I knew, but I wasn't even told but either Gordan or David, so I explained the situation.

Mr Tooland was surprised as he couldn't believe what was going on, that was when he told me what the vial contained. Blood, and specks of human flesh. I ran home as fast as I could and unlocked my door. I charged upstairs, took the vials and binned them all. David has woken up at this point and was trying to stop me. That was when I realised he wasn't the David I knew anymore. He bit into my arm and ripped a chunk off, but unlike last time, this time he ate it. I screamed in disgust and held on to my bleeding hand. David has fled into the night, but I knew where he was heading.

I arrived a few minutes later at Gordan's shop. A bandage around my arm and a baseball bat in my hand. I smashed the window opened and jumped through, landing on the shattered glass. From within the back room I heard shouting, like an argument going badly, that was when I heard David scream like he was in pain, all I heard next was Gordan's voice, it said "Mother knew you would be troublesome, at least we will have our next sample to test." These words made me vomit, right outside the door. All I could hear was the crushing and squishing of flesh and bone, while I kept trying to break the door down, with more force then I've ever used in my life.

It took a whole four minutes for me to break the door down, but what I saw made me pass out. On the floor was the mangled corpse of my younger brother.

I awoke an unknown time later, sat in a chair in a back room. I could see Gordan standing over a table, a table which held my brother's body. Gordan was slicing him up so thinly, you could hardly recognize what the meat was from. He was draining his blood slowly, as it was filling a giant glass a jar. Gordan just turned to me and smirked with blood all over his face. I saw him pick up a piece of skin and put it into his mouth, he chewed it so loud, it sounded like he was squashing bugs right down my ear. He walked over to me with a butcher knife and jammed it into my side, I screeched, kicking out at him as he gripped my head.

Gordan had me frozen in fear, his face right now my ear with only the words "He tasted nice, what about you?" running down to my mind. I moved my head to the side to hit him, but as I did hr grabbed my ear and pulled me close to him, he placed it mouth over me ear. The pain sent waves of awe coursing through my body and in an instant, I could no longer hear him, but he had something in his mouth. It was then that I noticed my left ear was missing, that sick bastard ate my ear! I began to slowly pass out again.

When I awoke for the second time, the room surrounding me was different, cramped and tiny, with two other people inside with me. When I turned to them I could see their mouths moving, but could hardly hear a word, they were just muffled sounds. Confusing sounds, but it seemed I heard one word over most. Escaped. Whatever had happened, it seemed someone had stopped the incident just in time, they had saved me, but how, who? I had escaped from Gordan, but what happened?

My answers came to me two weeks later, I was at home, having been to the hospital and having slightly recovered. I refused to say as I had business to attend to. I had to plan David's funeral. It seems that Gordan was in the middle of taking David apart, like a broken piece of machinery. The cops had arrived with Mr Tooland. They had busted through the door and had shot Gordan, then they freed me and rang an ambulance. I had always thought I was lucky to escape. As I got up to go find some food, I heard a noise from behind me, I swiftly span around to see a newspaper land on the floor. I bent down to pick it up but stopped in motion

It was the page one headline which caught my attention:

"Serial Killer and Cannibal Gordan escaped police custody."

It was never I who had escaped, but him, as I picked up the paper, I heard the sound of keys clanging together, they were unlocking my door.