| The Tales of Ace the Zombie The Doctor Is In(sane) |
| Her laughing rang in my ears. Rita Conchita, the only creature that I had ever loved, was laughing at me. She stood there, in the shade of the hangman�s tree, grinning at my form as it swayed to and fro in the breeze. The eyes had either popped clean out or had been eaten by birds since my death. Empty sockets stared down at me - I was apparently a ghost. Just when I assumed that Rita - now wearing a peasant�s dress - couldn�t see my spirit at all, she winked at me, half grinning. Arrogant and triumphant. �You can see me?� I asked of her. She stared and blinked. She crossed her arms under her massive bosom and stuck out her tongue. Then she went back to laughing at my dangling corpse. I advanced several paces towards her and shrieked, �Don�t ignore me!� She stopped laughing but didn�t indicate she had heard my cry. As she turned to walk away, I darted towards her, reaching out to seize her by the hair. However, I was immaterial. My hand passed right through her. I was truly a ghost. Cackling, Rita strolled casually away. She had to see me, had to know I was there - was she ignoring me just to torment me? I followed her, watching her swaying backside that at one time inspired lust, but now it inspired hatred. Lust without sex was torture - it was maddening. I had many women in my life, dined on several shades of flesh, gouged many an eye out with my knife. Surely, every pleasure I knew was material. But now I was immaterial. As my footsteps followed hers, I thought of my knife, but I discovered I was without it. It was of no consequence, though, since the blade would like have been as spectral as I was. We strolled into the town�s bustling marketplace. Women and vendors were gossiping about the mercenaries that had been hanged the week before. They commented on how filthy and evil and vile we were - how terrible it must have been for the poor family who we had tortured and decimated. As Rita stopped to flirt with a couple of young men, I lost interest in her for the moment, eavesdropping on some of the townspeople�s conversations. �They roasted Farmer M�s alive,� a blacksmith related. �Then they ate most of him. It is customary of these hired mercenary armies to practice cannibalism. They always cook and eat the head of the household.� I sort of chuckled. The blacksmith looked straight at me: �Sir, is there something funny about that?� Was he addressing me? Rita turned from her flirting and glared at me. �Oh, don�t mind this pool old creature,� Rita advised. �He and I were servants on the farm you are speaking about - they plucked out his eyes and he went mad from the experience. I have - of course - taken pity on him and now am his ward, so to speak. The fire of madness has consumed his brain, and I fear he may not live much longer.� Confused and enraged, I threw up my arms. �Alive I am not, but dead! I was hanged with my men on the tree just half a mile from here!� An old bat of a woman waved me off, cooing, �Oh, poor thing, he really has lost his mind. How terrible it is that he now believes himself to be one of his tormentors. Tisk! Tisk!� �My apologies, sir,� the blacksmith relented. �I know you cannot understand the truth of what I say, but I empathize with you - my brother and his family were butchered by the same heathens this time last year. Your mind will heal, if given time. However, there is a doctor in town who can fit you with glass eyes if you like. Mention me, and tell him I am willing to pay the cost.� �Save your pity and your money!� I bellowed. �I am no man but a ghost! See for yourself!� And, expecting my hand to pass harmlessly through the blacksmith, I rocked him with a fearsome slap across the face. Holding his cheek, his anger burst forth as he picked up an iron rod and shook it violently in my direction. He directed his harsh words at Rita: �Get this creature out of here before he hurts someone and actually does get the noose!� Rita seized me by the shoulders with her cold hands and pulled me away. �Best to keep him out of society until his mind heals,� the blacksmith muttered in a more subdued tone. A crowd of people had now gathered round. They all looked at me with pity. Old women and young men handed Rita coinage as if her palm were a collection plate. They advised her that the money was for my glass eyes. �I can see, you damn fools!� I spat. �If I am not a ghost, then how can I see without eyes?� People muttered about my delusional state and more coinage was thrust at my buxom valet. A young boy, of ten or eleven, made his way towards us. �I shall show you to the doctor,� he urged, taking my hand and pulling me down a side street. �This really is unnecessary,� Rita groaned, mirroring my thoughts exactly. I was already thinking of ways to kill this infernal whore who had tempted me straight to the gallows. The boy would have none of it. �The doctor is a man you can trust!� insisted the child. �We also survived the raid on the farm the other night...� My heart fell into my stomach. My good doctor! I feared that they would have hanged him when they discovered what I had him do to the farmer�s wife - assuming he actually carried out my orders. If he survived, surely he could vouch for my being who I was - the Ace of Spades, scoundrel like no other! Oh, happy day that men would once again fear me, instead of pitying me! There was a crowd in front of the doctor�s business. The boy�s naive gaze met my eye sockets. �The doctor has become a bit of a celebrity,� he reported cheekily. �Everyone wants to hear his tales of how he single-handily fought off the mercenaries!� I grimaced, and added, �I, too, would like to hear these tales.� �Not only that!� the fool child on chattered insistently. �He has also introduced a new medical procedure that has all the young women talking! Soon, London�s young ladies will come calling!� �And what procedure is this?� I gulped. �It�s of no importance, child,� Rita smiled falsely at him. �Show us inside.� The three of us cut through the multitude like the edge of knife cuts through butter and found ourselves in the entry hall of the doctor�s offices. A female clerk greeted us in a hurry. �Glass eyes,� Rita commanded succinctly, and the clerk looked in her log for an opening. As she lowered her head, I looked at the breasts squeezed into her bodice - they were unnaturally round. My suspicions were coming closer to being confirmed. The young lady revealed that she could fit me in for a glass eye fitting early next week. Rita flung down a barrage of coins and the woman nodded, disappearing through a door behind the counter. My mind raged within my skull, not knowing if I should go berserk and smash everyone and everything in sight or if I should just... wait. Who did I want to kill more? Rita or the doctor? Each had too much to tell me yet. I would wait. But be advised, dear reader, that never in all my life had I been so much ill at ease, so unsure of myself and my nature. The clerk returned and, abandoning the boy, Rita and I followed her to the doctor�s chamber. The good doctor turned white as a sheet when he saw me. His jaw dropped and his eyes watered. His hands began to tremble so much that I wondered if they may rattle themselves right off his wrists. His pale face turned then to a shade of purple, as he had forgotten to breathe since he laid eyes on me. The male assistant at his side was too busy surveying Rita. �Leave us,� I commanded the assistant, and he followed Rita through a door to the left. I slammed it behind them. The doctor remained speechless. �My good doctor,� I began with the confidence of a general, despite the fact that my head laid limp on my left shoulder much like a sailor who had fallen into a drunken slumber. �Surely you recognize me. And I warn you that my main purpose here is not for a pair of glass eyes, but for insight. You understand, I can still see despite my empty sockets. I can still breathe despite my broken neck.� The doctor nodded slightly, his jaw still agape. �And although before I leave I will ask you to fill my sockets and brace my neck, I have other requests. First, please honor me with the retelling of how you successfully drove my band of mercenaries to the hanging tree.� His words shot out of his mouth like a bullet out of a musket. �Please sir, understand that this reporting of events was thrust upon me by eager townspeople - I didn�t wish to disappoint. Your woman wouldn�t let me! She insisted that I leave her role out altogether!� I balled my fists. �Good doctor, are you to say that Rita was the downfall of my men? That conniving whore?� I stepped towards him, and he stepped back in kind. Whimpering like a scolded dog, he responded, �Yes sir, she tempted the men one by one, as I understand it, then bound them up and when she was finished, had me trek to town and fetch the authorities. She masterminded and executed the entire thing. She was the hero, not me!� �Hero?� I sneered. �A hero to you, perhaps, but not to me! She was my downfall!� �I regret that, sir.� I clutched him by the throat. �You regret nothing!� �No sir, you don�t understand!� he sputtered. �Your procedure was a great success! I have yet to take the farmwife off drugs yet, but she is in good health. I had to go above the muscle, but still...� �Where is she?� �Upstairs, resting, my lord. I plan to take her as my wife eventually. You see, surgery of a cosmetic purpose is of vital interest to the well-to-do ladies. Who would have thought? That healthy people would be willing to go under the surgeon�s scalpel for pure aesthetics... It�s amazing. I plan to open my own university, and hope to attract students from as far as...� I heard enough. �Shut your mouth!� I scolded him, releasing his neck and considering my options. So this fool was going to take the credit for my procedure? Could I allow that? However, his heart seemed sinister - that he planned to drug the farmwife indefinitely until she was so senseless that she would marry the man that stuck glass spheres in her breasts and used the skin of her own daughters to expand her skin to allow for the size of the foreign orbs. And now he wanted to spread this poisonous desire? How remarkable and admirable. I had other procedures to recommend, such as removing cartilage from a woman�s nose to make it more dainty, or removing a section of one�s stomach to make it smaller... But later. �I give you permission to continue your good work, doctor. I am pleased.� He sighed. As he made recommendations for what to do about my ruined neck, I looked out the window and grinned. A line of young women waited to undergo my procedure and pay handsomely for it. Yesterday, I was a mere pervert. Today, I was the father of a whole new field of medicine - cosmetic surgery. Perversion, I realized that day, could be profitable. |
| All material copyright 2004 Land Rat Publishing, a McKinnon Media company. |