Sci-Fi Novel: The Ultimate Debate - Part 23: Illegal Clinic
The Ultimate Debate - Presentation
Part 1: Childhood Of Great Master Sun Moi
Part 2: Sun Moi's Test With Ogox
Part 3: Great Destruction
Part 4: The Awakening Of Ogox
Part 5: Unique City
Part 6: Avima's Morning
Part 7: Dinner On Mars
Part 8: Agent Omega
Part 9: Conflict
Part 10: Mirrored Room
Part 11: Pierre The Fifth Concert
Part 12: Robot Historian Jin Kai
Part 13: Cobol's Identity
Part 14: Confrontation
Part 15: Rebirth Of Sun Moi
Part 16: The Port Abandoned by The Ocean
Part17: Discussion with Plato
Part 18: Texture of The Unique City
Part 19: The Day the Earth Stood Still
Part 20: Lunch at The Balloon
Part 21: First Conversation with Su-Mo
Part 22: Childhood of Albatross
Part 23: Illegal Clinic
Albatross continued his story:
“Before his unpleasant reputation began to spread rapidly on the streets of the city, since the early days of the illegal clinic, I knew about Dr. Popper. He had been kicked out of the profession for harassing his patients and opened an illegal clinic to perform unlawful surgeries, new technologies make possible. On the streets, those who passed Dr. Popper's clinic could easily be distinguished; they were delighted with the results they had achieved, such as the men whose heads were tiny on their vast bodies, the women who had their breasts and hips stretched out of their bodies like a balcony. The doctor, looking for perfection to satisfy his narcissistic personality, has caused a lot of patients to die on the operating table recently, because he has pushed the boundaries too far. When no one stepped into his clinic for a long time, he made a significant discount on the prices. This discount opened an opportunity window for me to qualify for the name Albatross. Finally, the money I had was enough for my surgeries. I did not find life worth living, so I was not afraid of death. I was just worried about the possibility that I could be crippled and be in need of others' mercy. I had been practicing to strengthen my arms, shoulders, and back for almost a decade, and I would never step inside that old wooden door of the clinic, even if I had another choice.
In the small hall at the entrance, an elderly female assistant with glasses welcomed me with a view from the top. I said, "I'd like to speak with Dr. Popper" in a strict and uncompromising voice.
After pointing to my vague sitting, she started rubbing her right-hand fingernails using her left hand. I put up for a while with disgusting noises like the rat chirping out of her nails, but the time for the cheeky woman to ignore me has extended.
"When I can see the doctor, I don't have much time."’ I said.
"Mr. Popper is a little uncomfortable these days; I don't think he would be willing to enlarge the penis of a dwarf," she said.
'I am pleased with my penis, it fulfills all kinds of functions in a satisfactory manner,' I said, standing up.
"You're not the kind of guy Mr. Popper likes, he's sick, maybe he can help you if you come back after a week.’ she said.
I jumped up to the woman's table. She left the ceremony and for the first time since I entered the room, she showed her grace to look at me.
"We do not welcome such impulsive actions in this clinic," she said by trying to hide she was afraid. "Please act like a respectable gentleman."
This time, I threw myself on the opposite side and landed again on the floor of the hall.
"Dear lady, I'd like to speak to the doctor immediately.’ I said.
There was a door on the wall behind the seat I was sitting in. I turned around and walked into the dark room behind the door.
"Do not approach him or speak aloud, and do not turn on the light.’" she said.
When my eyes got used to the darkness, I saw a man in the mid-sixties lying on the couch. His body was wrapped tightly in an old blanket, his head was bald, and his yellow face was covered with beards like white thorns. I approached the couch to see if he was asleep. He grabbed me with his big claws and held me up on both sides of my jacket. There was such a fierce expression in his bloody eyes that I thought you'd kill me right there. When he saw that I was a small man in my state, an evident disgust appeared on his face, and he left me on the ground.
"Are you here to get yourself killed?" he asked, sitting on the couch he just slept.
"Either help me or kill me," I said.
"You think this is a church, get out of here, get out of my sight!’" Dr. Popper shouted.
‘No, you can't get rid of me that easily. You have to do the surgeries that make me fly, or I'm not gonna let you go.’ I said.
‘Look at that arrogant bastard!’ he said in an angry voice. He threw something in my face with a sudden motion. I felt a heavy smell that burned my throat, and then I fainted.
When I woke up, I was laying on a narrow cot, with my arms, legs, and body tied with straps. The straps were so tight that I had trouble breathing.
"Help me, anyone?" I yelled. No one answered. I wanted to get up as soon as possible, and I should have been lying like this for a long time. I was in a large, hangar-like room with a high ceiling and dampened walls. A small amount of daylight was leaking through the window at the top of the side wall. On the opposite wall, various chisels, knives, and rows resembling fragments from the collection of an obsessive butcher were displayed. Some of these tools with traces of blood on them were placed inside the pockets of green broadcloth stretched against the wall. Even one would be enough to cut the straps and get my freedom. I gathered all my strength and tried to take my hands or feet off, loosen my belts, but my efforts didn't work. I had rust taste in my mouth, and I was thirsty.
"Help me!’ I yelled.
No one answered or came to my room. Hours passed, and there was no daylight from the window above. I feared that they left me alone in a place that looked like a slaughterhouse and evacuated the building. Because in the silence of the night, no matter how much I try, I could not hear any sound. The possibility that my miserable life could end without success was killing me. I closed my eyes and tried to relax as much as I could. I fell asleep in a few minutes. I thought I was in a dream when I saw Dr. Popper and his assistant standing on me with two knives in his hands and an evil gleam in his eyes.
With a smile on her face, the toothy assistant put a big needle on my arm as if she were stabbing it into a cow. I was worried they'd steal my kidneys and sell them on the black market, so even though I tried to fight back in my bed, Dr. Popper slapped me hard. They covered my mouth with a foul-smelling tape. "You don't get hurt if you behave like a good boy," said Dr. Popper, then he shrugged his assistant and pinched her hip. The assistant responded to the doctor's shoulder blow and swaggered like a teenage girl. I didn't know if they were going to kill me. I was given serum from the needle that was attached to my arm, which means I wasn't going to die of thirst.
My optimism ended with a thin knife that the doctor hunched into my leg. The assistant injected a liquid into my body from the blade's handle. Suddenly my skeleton appeared on the ceiling, and I saw the knife thrust into my thigh bone. It hurt so much, and I was so scared that I was sweating. When the ruthless psychopath stuck a knife in my other leg, I passed the pain threshold and passed out.
When I woke up, I saw knifes sticking to my arms, legs, rib cage and shoulders. Besides, the size of the serum bottle hanging on top of me has grown. The vicious duo would have come to mercy that they took the tape out of my mouth and loosened my belts. I tried to get rid of loose arches, get up and run away, but my body failed to perform the commands my brain gave. Because of the crooked devil named Dr. Popper, I had to face the biggest nightmare in life that anyone could experience. It was like a huge stone collapsed on my heart. I began to curse as much as I could to relieve myself from the anxiety. At some point, I had a dangerous calmness in spirit, because my body's strength was utterly exhausted. The rusty iron door of the hangar was opened. Dr. Popper came into the room with a gleaming face and a white apron that shame Hippocrates. He was carrying a large predator on his arm. I thought he would satisfy his sick soul by releasing the bird on me. He came up to my stretcher and said, " I brought your father to meet you.’ by extending the bird, which once was an eagle. The flesh of the animal was faded; it was sitting on the psychopath's arm like a chicken laying in an incubation.
"What are you after? Why does my body no longer obey me?" I asked.
"I have taken so many samples of blood and tissue that the poor animal has exhausted," said Dr. Popper. The toothy assistant appeared behind the rusty iron door. The woman was turned on like a flower after she got heated up with the doctor during the torture they inflicted on me. She took his glasses off, changed her hairstyle and made up. They began to remove the knives that were stuck in different parts of my body. It was hurting, and tears from my eyes started to burst. Instead of the blades, they pulled out, they were sticking something like a band-aid to stop the bleeding. My body was dried, and shrunk like a plant that was dehydrated.
The demon said "I leave your papa with you," he turned around and went to the door, followed by his assistant. The poor animal that the doctor left on the bench next to the cot fall asleep. So I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but for a long time, I wandered between sleep and wakefulness, having strange daytime dreams. I was so tired trying to chop up the demon doctor and assistant I had tied to a tree, with the blind razor, that I woke up in sweat. I removed the serum from my arm, and the eagle, left by Dr. Popper as an escort, woke up and started drinking water from the cup in front of him. A tray of food was left on the other side of the coffee table. I was so thirsty, and I tried to get up. When I lifted my head up a little bit, my eyes began to dim. I suddenly got a lightning bolt in my head: the psychopath Dr. Popper and his psychopath assistant were spying on me through cameras in the hangar. In fact, I had a feeling that they were advertising the clinic by broadcasting my images on hypernet on channels where all the perversions are premium. Perhaps the hypernet rats in front of the screen were having fun watching and eating popcorn. It would undoubtedly be the noblest act of all to respond to this treacherous plan by performing a hunger strike. Dr. Popper has fed the vultures by my body for the last time. I began to dream of flying like a proud eagle on the steep mountains and green valleys by closing my eyes. While the wickedness and stupidity in the world were below me, I thought, I was a noble knight, I was alone, friend with the clouds, rain, and wind. This crazy dream has made me feel better for the first time since I stepped into the illegal clinic. But my happiness did not last very long; my stomach began to rumble that it became impossible to dream. I had to show my play on this infamous scene called the world, whether someone recorded it with a camera or not. I managed to drink half of a glass of water, which I could handle as a result of long efforts. I was shaken by a tremor when I thought I was on my way to recovery. I was pissed off like a baby left by an irresponsible mother. Now that I've got the strength to get angry, I think I might be able to sit. It was dark when I was trying to get up, and I fainted again.
I was standing, and I felt like a bird. The demon Dr. Popper and a new assistant, whose arms were as thick as a log, entered my arm on both sides, carrying me in a long corridor. We entered a room and the assistant robbed me like I was a four-year-old boy, seated me on a small stool on the corner where the two walls converge. It was like she was trying to get out the devil with a hose of hot water spraying on me. The temperature of the water was too high for a normal human being to endure, but I was already out of humanity; I left myself in the arms of my destiny, like an Indian poorer lying on a nail board. Hot water accelerated my blood circulation, corrected my spirit a little bit. The assistant set aside the hose, approached with quick steps and grasped me with both hands, lifted me up into the air and shrugged to keep the water flowing on me. With a white veil that looked like a shroud, she wrapped my body tightly and secured the package with a hook pin. She turned me into Dr. Popper holding like a baby.
"We're done with this.’ Dr. Pepper said.
They threw me out the rusty iron door, which I thought was the back door of the illegal clinic. When I fell on a pile of snow on the ground, the demon Popper grinned and said, "Fly my little insect!"
The iron door closed with noise behind me. I was lying in a snow-covered back alley next to a garbage can. It was a quiet, windless day, and it snowed on me. After the darkness of the black clinic, the light of the outside dazzled my eyes. I had spotted spots on my shroud because some of my wounds had just been opened due to a hot water bath. I felt a great power on my arms and shoulders, and I was as light as a bird. I began to crawl over the snow like a caterpillar to the neon lights on the highway to find a human son who would restore my hunger by his mercy.”