I feel he will be best treated for three weeks male cadaver and three weeks female cadaver. I sent in a request through the higher channels for research cadavers and they have assured me I will have access to several bodies left to science. They will arrive within a week and I can begin the treatment of the new patients.
I intend to treat the other two with different time lines. The older man, Martin, will receive one and a half weeks male cadaver and then one week female cadaver therapy. The last patient, James, will be treated for five weeks male and four weeks female.
12 October 1950
The bodies arrived today and I have already prepped the first one for Aubrey. I need to get him into the conversion program faster than martin or James. Worried about the fact that Aubrey might be a lot more mentally aware than Tate was I decided to administer some Morphine to him before bringing him down to the boiler room.
Aubrey seemed out of it, on a nice medicated high. I asked Aubrey if he was sexually stimulated and he started stroking himself through his pants.
I then pulled back the sheet halfway up the body and said that Aubrey may satisfy himself as much as he pleases.
While he was busy I observed, making notes about his state of mind while pleasuring the corpse.
He either didn’t notice it was a corpse, or he didn’t mind, but either way he managed to ejaculate three times before his penis became overly sensitive to the touch.
I imagine it was already sensitive after the first ejaculation but with the morphine I gave him, he probably didn’t feel it.
That was interesting. I wondered if I Morphine could help treat premature ejaculation if that was the case. If it helped desensitise the penis then perhaps a person would not get over stimulated and ejaculate too quickly.
I made a side note to try find someone, any patient, that I could try that with. Certainly it would make many men, and I imagine their wives, very happy if that little problem could be solved.
18 October 1950
I brought Aubrey down for another session today and before I could even uncover the body he had his pants down, his penis erect and waiting, his eyes swimming in his head from the morphine injection he had received before coming down here.
I observed, made my notes, and once he was done I sat him down to further explore how he felt.
He explained to me again that he was not homosexual, that he just liked the feeling of something tight around his penis (SIC - He used the word cock). After chatting to him for several hours I have also drawn the conclusion that the reason he will sodomize men is because he was sodomized whenever he misbehaved, by his father. It was a punishment.
The men he had sodomized had done him wrong in one way or another. He was simply punishing them, and rewarding himself, as he explained, for being a good person. His definition of good person was ‘administering justice to the damned’ and it gave me an interesting insight into is psyche.
He is definitely potentially dangerous if left unsupervised but if I can get him into a health sex routine I believe he will be cured.
19 October 1950
What have I done? Oh, lord above, what have I done? It has taken me so long to calm down and, although I completed the goal I set out for, I still cannot help but feel I have done so much wrong. I have had two whiskies. I need to steady myself.
Wellbottom came down to the boiler room tonight to discuss Clara’s case with me. This was while I was engaged in a treatment with Aubrey. Wellbottom saw it and got erratic, claiming I am finished in the fields of science and that I will never be able to research again, let alone find work. He claimed my experiments are inhumane and that he will have me arrested!
Of course, without proper results no one will realise what a genius I am, but with my notes and research and once I prove that the men are cured, my conversion therapy will be the talk of the science community for years to come.
Thinking of it now, when my mind’s eye is somewhat clearer, I realise he was jealous that I came up with the idea. I am sure he wished that he was able to think of an amazing treatment such as mine. Thus, the only way to maintain his good standing was by ruining mine.
I didn’t mean to do it. It just happened.
I left the room and locked the door.
It took him some time to realise what was happening, but once Wellbottom became aware it was too late. Aubrey knocked Wellbottom out from behind, yanked down the man’s pants and, using his larger stature, crushed him to the floor as he sodomised him. I could not watch. The cries from Wellbottom were enough to tear into my soul. I waited until the man passed out from pain and Aubrey completed pleasuring himself before I called Cecil to take Aubrey back to his room. Aubrey didn’t say anything to me as he walked towards Cecil.
Once I knew they were gone, I went to check if Wellbottom was still alive. His breathing was laboured and blood dripped from his rectum, but he was alive. I had to make a decision there and then. Was I going to rescue the man threatening a treatment that is proving to be a cure for my patients, simply out of petty jealousy? Or was I going to remove him from the picture altogether and ensure that the patients get the care they deserve?
There wasn’t really an option, was there?
I disposed of Wellbottom by dragging him to the incinerator and pushing his body into it. The smell made me want to gag and I left quickly, not wishing to linger too long.
I have since returned to my room, trying to figure out what I am going to say about his disappearance. I don’t know what to do.
There will be questions asked. There will be investigations.
What do I do?
Chapter Five
HANS
20 October 1950
I forged a letter from Wellbottom declaring his official resignation due to health reasons. I sent it off to the chief doctor of our region this morning. It took me most of the night to first find a sample of the man’s handwriting after breaking into his office and then even longer to copy his writing style, but I definitely think it will pass. I then packed up all his belongings and incinerated them as well, making sure I left nothing behind.
At lunch I received a communication from the chief doctor informing me of Wellbottom’s resignation and my temporary appointment as head physician at the institution until a permanent solution can be found.
I feel as though a burden has lifted from my shoulders. Not only have I managed to rid myself of Wellbottom, but I have now ensured that the patients will no longer suffer under his unsympathetic and abusive ‘rule’ any longer. The patients will have far better care under my hand, and the board of physicians will see this and appoint me the permanent physician here.
Today I started to see Clara again. She missed me. She gushed about how she missed our conversations and how lonely she was without me. I feel we have formed a real connection.
All she wanted to talk about was how much she missed her mother. She explained how she was never her mother’s favourite child, despite being the youngest in their family, and how her mother had ever been worried around her. She was always the first one to get in trouble and the last one to receive any sort of reward.
I have considered that perhaps this sort of neglect from Mrs Marx resulted in Clara’s psychological break and that lashing out at her family was simply an act to gain her mother’s attention, good or bad. I cannot confirm it, because Clara will not discuss anything in great detail.
If I ask how she feels about killing her family, she shrugs and asks me how I like my tea. If we discuss why she thinks she hurt her siblings, she tells me all her different dolls names and how she came up with them. I’m not entirely sure if this is because her mind is too fragile to deal with the events that took place or if it is her way of ensuring she will stay in the Asylum, as opposed to receiving a death sentence.
I am now considering giving Clara sodium thiopental in order to get the truth from her. Many interrogators used this ‘truth serum’ during the war to obtain the information they needed to better their ene
mies in combat. This will be the surest way to obtain the full truth from Clara.
For now, I need to rest. I haven’t completely recovered from my cold, and this strain with Wellbottom, as well as trying to reach Clara, is making me exhausted.
I need to be at maximum strength to deal with this.
24 October 1950
The sodium thiopental was easy enough to attain when I requested it as part of my research. It was delivered yesterday and I decided to administer it to Clara today. I didn’t want to lose any more time I can use to treat her instead.
Once she was under the effects of the truth serum, I shifted slightly closer to her. Her eyes were glazed, as though she was just about to doze off but fighting to stay awake.
It sometimes has that effect. It will slow down the brain and force the subject to tell the truth, especially because they are in a submissive state.
I asked her about the murders of her family and she proclaimed that she did it because she wanted to; because she thought it would be fun. I asked her if her family abused her and she laughed, outright laughed, and confirmed that she felt her family were a bunch of idiots and not worth her time. She especially resented her mother who never had any time for her, only for her brothers and sisters. She confessed that on more than one occasion her mother told her that she was the devil. Clara eventually just accepted this as the truth.
She openly said that she was in love with her father. She said he made her feel special; that he made her feel loved in ways he didn’t show the other children.
It is therefore my conclusion that her father is well aware of how badly her mother treated her, even possibly abused her, and as a result Clara snapped and attacked all family members associated with her mother.
Once I have treated Clara I fully intend to report this abusive relationship to Mr Marx. Hopefully he will see the light and banish Mrs Marx from their lives so that his daughter can once again flourish.
I cannot lie. I have a soft spot for Clara. She so desperately deserves to be understood and loved, and I feel she hasn’t had as much of that as she should have. Watching your mother, the person a child should be closest to, clearly love your siblings more than you will easily drive any young child mad. She reacted, as children always do, and she certainly doesn’t deserve to spend the rest of her life locked away in an institution because of it.
25 October 1950
Clara and I talk every day, for hours on end. I feel that I have connected with her more than just as my patient, but as a young friend; a daughter I never will have. She is so funny and intelligent; I can see why Mr Marx adores her so.
Mrs Marx may be suffering a form of depression she has not come to recognize and it is this depression that caused Clara to hurt those she loved most. From what I have read, when one suffers from depression one does not think clearly, or rationally, and therefore cannot tell right from wrong. I have decided to broach the topic with Mr Marx. I desire to return Clara to him, and Mrs Marx brought to me for treatment instead.
I called ahead and scheduled to meet with them tomorrow to discuss what I have discovered about Clara. I have also asked Mr Marx to ensure some privacy for us, as I do not know how fragile his wife’s mind is; I don’t know if she can handle the truth that she should be the one locked away.
By reminding Clara it was not her fault, that her mother is ill and needs to be cared for, and that she should no longer blame herself, I have managed to bring up Clara’s moods tremendously. When I mentioned she may get to go home, she immediately asked if she will be with her father again, as he loved her the most.
I am smiling even now at how excited she is to see him. She reminded me that he did things only with her, things he didn’t do with anyone else, and that she loved him because these things made her feel good. He sounds like a kind and gentle father. She is lucky to have him.
Chapter Six
HANS
30 October 1950
The nurses have such silly superstitions about tomorrow. They say that every year, on Halloween, any who died in the Asylum walk the halls again. They have suggested that I should remain in my quarters and not conduct any experiments after midnight this evening and before midnight tomorrow evening. They seem convinced this is the safest solution.
They have even gone so far as to request if they may strap all patients to their beds tomorrow night so that no one needs checking on. I am incredulous, of course, but require the staff to remain on good terms with me and have approved their request. When the head physician comes to check on this fine institution, I want the nurses and orderlies to have nothing but praise for me. I am hoping this may persuade him to make me the permanent head physician.
I, however, am not worried about silly ghost stories or the fantastical superstitions held by the staff. I will be running experiments tonight, as it’s time for Martin to take the next step in his treatment. For the sake of accurate research I do not want to delay the time period; I won’t then have the correct data to compare with the other cases.
After telling the nurses that I will restrain both Martin and Cecil myself, I excused it by explaining that there were medical checks I needed to perform on them before lights out. The nurses are spooked enough that I know they won’t come to check.
I have arranged for Cecil to take Martin down for his final treatment in the boiler room and then immediately return to his room, and I will then meet Cecil there to strap him in. Thereafter I will go to the boiler room and finalise Martin’s treatment before returning him to his room as well.
1 November 1950
I have surely lost my mind! There is so much blood. Blood everywhere. I cannot begin to fathom the events that transpired last night. I feel weak. I am going to lie down.
10 November 1950
It has taken me several days to recover from the events on Halloween. There is so much to go through, to record, to deal with.
Let me begin with Cecil, my faithful orderly.
On the morning of October 31st, a nurse found Cecil with his penis removed and reattached with professional stitching, as though a doctor stitched it. Blood and faeces covered the floor of his room. I was called in to examine him and I must admit, even as a medical professional and a scientist, it got to me. His arms had been removed, sections of them cut off and reattached. The same was done to his legs. His chest had been cut open and stuffed with bedding and sewn shut, forming crude lumps on his chest.
It dawned on me they were meant to represent breasts. In fact, his entire body was made to look like that of a dwarf’s. That’s when I realised that someone, someone within the walls of the Asylum, knew of my failed experiment on Mary Sue-Ellen De Clara, and was trying send me a message about her death.
Naturally I immediately suspected my other orderly, Wayne, as he was the one who knew about the treatment and had mistakenly murdered her while she was recovering from her surgery. I went to check on Wayne immediately and found him hung in his room, suspended from the ceiling by the blanket he slept under, still strapped into the straitjacket the nurses had placed on him the night before.
I don’t have evidence of what has befallen my assistants, but I am sure it is simply the actions of one of the more violent patient’s within our care that managed to get out of their room last night. Perhaps he or she had help; perhaps it was pre-planned. Maybe Wayne and Cecil shared with the other patients the methods I used to treat my patients and someone took it upon themselves to play doctor. I cannot answer to that. I have sent Cecil and Wayne’s bodies to the crematorium. I will afford them respect in not using their bodies for therapy purposes.
Another disturbing event was Aubrey. He screamed blue murder the whole night, according to the nurses. He had been so loud that they heard him clear as day from upstairs in their quarters.
I heard nothing while I was working with Martin. I will get to Martin shortly after I have finished explaining what happened with Aubrey.
I went to go check on the man and he was, indeed, a raving man
iac. He kept saying he saw the Dean Ghost. He banged his body against the walls of his room as he shrieked it. I had to call the regular orderlies to restrain him, so I could give him a sedative.
When the three of us re-entered the room, the stench hit us. I noticed that Aubrey’s pants were dripping with blood and faeces. He kept screaming that he saw the Dean Ghost and it had sodomised him; it got its revenge. I couldn’t understand what the man was going on about and, after sedating him, he whimpered that he was scared it will come back and sodomise him again for his sins. That he was not homosexual and was cured.
While I will normally consider this excellent news, I cannot help but feel there is more to it, but I am dismissing this because the man’s mind has clearly snapped.
I found the nurses whispering about how they had warned me. They quickly stopped their mutterings when I cleared my throat. That was the end of the matter as I told them I would not have anyone discussing it further.
Only, it was not the end.
That night I decided to stay late to finish up my notes and research on Martin’s results, as well as to start recording the sudden change in Aubrey. I needed to ensure that everything is accurate for the paper I plan to publish.
The nurses had warned me, yet again, that I should rather retire for the evening, maybe take a sedative and sleep through the night. I can only assume that it is the fragile state of being female that leads these women, graced with a scientific education, to believe in such silly things. Nonetheless, I assured them I would retire early. They need not worry themselves.
Asylum Box Set Page 5
