• The Medical Studies of Andrea Tufett

    I'm not certain why I'm doing this, but I know there is a reason, I will do the best I can. What am I doing? I don't know. It seemed simple at first, rent a basement apartment, pocket some scalpels from work, buy a large table from a second hand store, sound proof the apartment, then sit on the trains and buses late at night watching the other passengers.
    On one of these late nights as I sat in the train, I watched a girl in her mid teens, hair in a overly flicked ponytail, her clothing looked like it had come straight out of a teen pop magazine. I have always been fascinated by todays youth, their fashion, their speech patterns, and recently, what they're really like. This girl appeared to be just like all the rest. I thought about following her, but I had other plans for tonight.
    I made my way to 34th Ave and waited for my guest to arrive on the corner, of course, he did not know he was to be my guest... yet. I took my handkerchief and a small bottle of chloroform out of my pocket as my guest walked around the corner. He was not particularly tall or short, with long black hair that was probably dyed, he wore a long black coat, black pants, black shirt and black waistcoat. He lived with his mother, and went to school at the local high school, his mother worked part-time as a nurse at the public health center downtown. As soon as he was within arms reach, I clapped my handkerchief over his nose and mouth, he struggled for a bit before he passed out, a look of complete surprise on his face.
    I got him to the basement apartment without incident, where I strapped him to the table. I left him there while I went to retrieve the bucket of African fire ants, scalpels and other equipment. I returned to the sound proof room and closed the door. As I sat down to wait for him to wake up, I heard him moan and he attempted to hold his head but with his hands strapped to the table, he could not. I smiled and sprung to my feet saying, " A slight headache is to be expected, but don't worry, it will pass. Like all things must."
    He squinted at me, then said, "Where am I? and who are you?"
    "An intelligent question, this is the place where all things pass. As for me? I am the gate, you might say. Now may I suggest you hold still?"
    I examined the blade of my scalpel, perfect. "What are you doing with that?" He asked in a rather frightened voice.
    I chuckled," you will see, you will see."
    I began to unbutton his shirt.
    "What the hell do you think you're doing? let me GO!"
    Anger, not an unusual reaction and definitely more fun than pleading. His shirt was off now and I was trying to decide where to make the first incision. Ignoring his protests, I decided to start at the top of his left pectorals major and down to his right linea alba being careful to only remove the dermis. His scream of pain and anger put the sound proof walls to the test.



    I sat in the chair by the table watching the African fire ants crawl about on his body. All in all it had been quite a fascinating night. After all his flesh had been removed, it had not taken long for him to die. But, he had stayed alive long enough to feel the hundred or so ants crawling over and under the exposed muscles. My only regret was that my colleagues at the university would not see this most spectacular sight.