Violent Kisses and Violent Minds
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty:
“Jump!” Matt yelled.
“You jump!”
“Just jump!”
Jess made a jump from the window and was out of Matt’s sight in an instant. Now it was his turn.
Matt hesitated, turned. What he saw then was something that would cause him to refuse hospital treatment for the rest of his life. For what - or who, in actual reality - he saw was a man cloaked in a surgeon’s coat, brandishing a shining scalpel in one hand and a tiny bottle in the other. On the body of the bottle the classic sign for ‘toxic’ punctured its previously serene, harmless appearance. A stethoscope hung around his neck, gleaming dully in the moonlight. A nametag clung tightly to his outfit. It read: DR SMITH.
“You!” Matt screamed, rage dripping from his words like from a leaf-ridden gutter in the heart of a rainstorm.
“That’s right, Matthew, that’s right. Now come here and make this easy for me.”
Matt, of course, ignored Dr Smith’s request and made to hobble up over the windowsill. He lifted his broken leg out, hovering over three storeys. Just as he launched his body out into the night, Dr Smith released the lid from his tiny bottle and flung the contents at the departing form of Matt. A small amount of the liquid struck Matt on the lower part of his good leg.
“ARGH!” He screamed in pain as the liquid burned a hole in his leg. As he jumped, and the liquid seared his flesh, he barely noticed the rushing sensations of the air around him as he freefell.
Matt landed on the concrete with a loud thud. He felt the bones in his broken leg move in ways they physically shouldn’t, and felt the cast loosen itself from his leg as it cracked against the ground.
“Little Johnny’s feeling sick, he’s rolling on the floor. What he thought was H20 was H2S04!” Dr Smith sang from the window. “Sulfuric acid, bitch!”
Matt heard the evil doctor’s maniacal cries, but did not linger on them. All he could focus on was the fact that he and Jess had to get the fuck out of there.
“Jump!” Matt yelled.
“You jump!”
“Just jump!”
Jess made a jump from the window and was out of Matt’s sight in an instant. Now it was his turn.
Matt hesitated, turned. What he saw then was something that would cause him to refuse hospital treatment for the rest of his life. For what - or who, in actual reality - he saw was a man cloaked in a surgeon’s coat, brandishing a shining scalpel in one hand and a tiny bottle in the other. On the body of the bottle the classic sign for ‘toxic’ punctured its previously serene, harmless appearance. A stethoscope hung around his neck, gleaming dully in the moonlight. A nametag clung tightly to his outfit. It read: DR SMITH.
“You!” Matt screamed, rage dripping from his words like from a leaf-ridden gutter in the heart of a rainstorm.
“That’s right, Matthew, that’s right. Now come here and make this easy for me.”
Matt, of course, ignored Dr Smith’s request and made to hobble up over the windowsill. He lifted his broken leg out, hovering over three storeys. Just as he launched his body out into the night, Dr Smith released the lid from his tiny bottle and flung the contents at the departing form of Matt. A small amount of the liquid struck Matt on the lower part of his good leg.
“ARGH!” He screamed in pain as the liquid burned a hole in his leg. As he jumped, and the liquid seared his flesh, he barely noticed the rushing sensations of the air around him as he freefell.
Matt landed on the concrete with a loud thud. He felt the bones in his broken leg move in ways they physically shouldn’t, and felt the cast loosen itself from his leg as it cracked against the ground.
“Little Johnny’s feeling sick, he’s rolling on the floor. What he thought was H20 was H2S04!” Dr Smith sang from the window. “Sulfuric acid, bitch!”
Matt heard the evil doctor’s maniacal cries, but did not linger on them. All he could focus on was the fact that he and Jess had to get the fuck out of there.