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- Posted: Sat, 08 Sep 2012 21:37:27 +0000
ɪktinos Ӎeili Ɇlias Ⱥlberts
Please call me Dr. Alberts
["There's nothing to fear, but fear itself."]
["I cannot say that I fear myself."]
["That must mean I fear nothing."]
The morning was met by music, which carried itself on the breeze and through the trees. The piercing yet poetic operatic voices from the Chorus in Fidelio an Opera by Beethoven vibrated the harmoniously through the air. Humans were such interesting creatures. Their music was quite stunning, too. Especially the older stuff, which they took for granted. Right now, however, no one was taking the beautiful music of Fidelio for granted. It could be heard exceptionally well from, one house on states street. It was a beautiful home, with it's white stone facing, and it's stained glass window over the front door which greeted passerbys. It had huge windows, which, even from the outside, made the place feel huge, even though it was only a little larger than average.
Moving inside, one could see, a very bright white interior with a lot of stainless steel fixtures. A very open space with not a whole lot of things cluttering it up. There was a large couch in the living space facing the tv, a table in the dining area with maybe a total of three chairs, and a kitchen fully stocked with goods on the first floor. A floating stair case led to the 2nd floor, where there was an office space, and a large bedroom. The bathroom was huge, and housed a large bathtub. It really was a nice place, even though it barely felt lived in. Everything was so anally contained and organized. There weren't any messes, anywhere. Everything was in it's place. Everything was pristine. There weren't even any photographs staining the presence of the beautiful architecture. No smiling faces to greet you anywhere on the halls or in the living space. It was so business like it was hard to imagine a house like that being called home.
However, to Dr. Alberts, it was a wonderful home. The music he played could be heard in every inch of the house. The kitchen, the living room, the bedroom. That was a plus to having a house with barely any doors or walls. In fact, what separated most of the rooms from each other were a couple of support beams, raised floors, windowed walls and occasional the change in tiling of the floor. The bathroom was the only place in the house that was pretty well closed off to everything. Well, the Bathroom and the basement. The basement led out of the kitchen via a single door that led to steps which lowered down to the garage/basement (which was another door off from the garage space). The garage was also very neatly kept, as all the tools and yard-ware were kept in their own respective places. There was a large metal cabinet which stood out from all the white, being red, that sat against the wall on the far end of the garage. The large cabinet, however old and unmatched didn't seem too much attention.
However, that Cabinet got quite a lot of attention from Alberts. The cabinet was so heavy, that no one could move it from it's spot. Must have been the tools. Or maybe it was the fact that it was actually attached to the wall (though that was a secret Alberts would carry to the grave with himself). Why? Because it wasn't attached the wall-alone. No, it was attached to a door, of the sound proof variety. The door led to another basement, some 20 feet underground. If one knew the secret to the cabinet, then they could easily go down and find him. He spent quite a lot of his time down there. In fact, when the music played, you could almost be certain that, that was where you could find him...if you knew about the cabinet that is. It wasn't common knowledge. On the contrary, the only one who knew about it was the man, Alberts himself.
Down the steps to the hidden basement, more music could be heard. The melodic sounds of the opera echoed across the room, which were married by the euphoric laughter of one Alberts, and the screams of some poor fool.
A pool of blood spread across the floor, some of it old, and some of it new, mixing together on the concrete. On one side of the room there were a couple of people, 2 at least, chained to the wall. Each of them shared the same tired and painful expressions. Each of them were covered in their fair share of blood, and each had their own fair share of stitches and burns and other such things. On the other were a pair of small tv's displaying what was going on at the front and back doors of the house. The one on the left kept switching between the two doors. They were there, just in case someone came knocking or ringing his doorbell. The one on the right, switched to many different angles from cameras set up all over the house, guarding windows and other places from curious neighbors and the like. Next to them sat a speaker which was playing the music for the whole room to hear.
Just below the speaker stood Alberts, a drill in one hand, and a drill bit in the other. He was wearing a pair of blood stained goggles, and a white lab coat which rested over his scrubs. He hummed to the music, as the man on his table squirmed and screamed. They attempted to pull their wrists and ankles free of the leather belts that bound them to the stretcher. Tears stained their cheeks as they stared, wide-eyed up at Alberts, who had the hugest smile lighting up his pale face. His eyes were the most glorious shade of blue, that almost matched ice. At the moment, in the dark light of the single lamp that lit the space, they were blue. Bluer than they ever seemed to be any other time of day. It could have been the red that stained his mask, or perhaps the red that splattered his goggles that enhanced the colour.
'WHIR~ WHIR!' Sounded the drill as he pressed the button to make the fresh new bit spin and looked down at the man on his table, "Fixed it!" He said in an almost squeal. He could almost not contain his joy.
"OH now, my dear friend. Don't give me that somber look! I'm not going to kill you." he smiled in such a fatherly and caring way, it was hard to believe that he wasn't an angel sent from heaven. "Shh, shh. Enjoy the music! Enjoy the symphony~ The romance. The Magic~" He gently brushed the terrified lad's long brown hair out of his face with the end of the drill bit.
The poor young man let out another scream, shuddering against the cold metal of the drill. He tried to inch away, tried to tip the table, but alas, it was bolted to the floor (unlike a normal stretcher).
"OH! It's so delicious! Your fresh screams! Be careful with those! I really do hate when they go away. It gets so boring hearing that ever so familiar rasp that your lovely screams become." he grinned, "And not nearly as tasty, oh no." He pointed to another gentleman who lay sprawled out on the floor by the steps, motionless. "The flavour gets so boring and unoriginal." He chuckled, "He was yummy..." He said with a long thoughtful sigh, "While he lasted. Alas, nothing lasts forever, and life is so fragile." He let out an uncontrollable titter.
The man on the table let out another terrified scream, ripping at the arm restrains, and kicking his feet at the leg restraints. His eyes didn't stray from the dead body, even though he could barely see him through the darkness especially with his eyes filled with tears.
'WHIR!WHIR!WHIIIIIIIIIIIRRR!' He fired up the drill and blood began to fly.
"1ALLE ANDEREN! O Himmel! Rettung! Welch ein Glück! O Freiheit! Kehrst du zurück?" Sang Alberts aloud to the music that filled the room.
"Beautiful! Just Beautiful!" He said in a soft whisper in the man's ear as if admiring art.
The music stopped suddenly, as the door to the garage clicked shut behind Alberts. In his hands was a remote, which obviously controlled the sound system that was set up all throughout the house, even the basement and the hidden basement.
He rested his back against the silver door and let out a deep sigh. He wasn't wearing scrubs or a lab coat, but instead a black turtleneck and black pants. He was dressed pretty much fully in black, even his hair was black. All was black except for his skin and his eyes, which against all the black he wore, stood out like a beacon in the night.
He patted his tummy, a gentle smile on his face, as he looked at all the food in his kitchen that was there for appearances alone. He'd never eat it. He had no use for it, none at all. He could eat it, oh yes, but it gave him terrible indigestion, and it was never very appetizing.
He stepped forward, setting the small remote on a counter as he went on by. "Nothing beats a good breakfast." he laughed, and then laughed and laughed some more.
1 roughly translates to "ALL THE OTHERS! Oh Heaven! Salvation! Happiness! Oh Freedom! Will you be given us?"