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Review This Story || Author: H. Dean

The O'Connell Chronicles: One Man's Art

Part 5

Untitled Document Chapter 5

She screamed upon waking to find that her beautiful hair had been removed. Her screams went unheard, however, due to the strange obstruction she felt in her throat. Her ability to speak had not entirely disappeared; she had screamed. However, she found that her voice no longer had any volume beyond a loud whisper.

It was several hours later that Jerry came to her room. “It’s almost time, my dear. Now stand up so I can have a good look at you.”

“What did you do to me?” she whispered, sitting up on her bed. “Why did you shave my head? What did you do to my voice?”

“Stand up”, he repeated, displaying her collar’s remote. She was shaking, tears flowing from her eyes as she stood, fearful of the pain he could inflict upon her.

Jerry took little note of her question, instead focusing on examining the many implants embedded into her rib cage.

“Why? Why did you do this to me?” she cried, still demanding an answer.

“It isn’t shaved. It’s been permanently removed, like the rest of your hair. We made it into a wig. You’ll be wearing it very soon”, he told her, his voice seemingly disinterested. “The reason you can’t speak above a whisper is the feeding tube I installed. It’s a bit intrusive, but it will ease your daily feeding routine.”

More tears fell from the girl’s eyes. “Answer me! Why are you doing this?”

“It’s what I do”, he said. “Sit down, I need to check your feet.”

“Please…please let me go. I won’t tell anyone. Just please let me go”, she whimpered, still obeying his commands.

Several minutes passed before Jerry was satisfied with her state. As he completed his task he smiled, secure in the knowledge that his charge’s implants had not been damaged.

It was several days later when she next saw Jerry. Like his previous visit he reviewed her body, clinically, looking for any signs that the implants had suffered damage. Satisfied that they were holding up properly he stood, taking her hand.

“It’s time”, he said.

Tears fell from her eyes as she sat staring at the man. She had found the will, for the moment, to resist him. But after writhing on the ground in terrible agony for several minutes, her will was less sturdy. Inevitably, she found herself walking the long walk to meet her fate.

As the door opened to the terrible room, she saw the frame. Again, she found the resolve to fight her tormentor, taking flight. She was felled after running no more than ten paces, whispering her tormented screams. Jerry aided her in regaining her feet, saying nothing. Then, leading her by the arm, Jerry led her to stand in front of her horror.

“Ready, Bill?” Jerry asked the man in the white jumpsuit.

“Bring her here and we’ll get started”, the man replied.

Lindsey looked up at Jerry, her eyes pleading. “Please don’t…please.”

Jerry ignored her, leading her to the man who awaited her.

A sudden chill shook her body as the other man grasped her arm. She bolted again, determined not to falter, only to be felled by another painful burst of electrical current from the hated collar. So intense was the pain on this occasion that she thought she might die. By the time Jerry relented, she wished she had.

“Get up”, Bill commanded.

Struck by the weight of what was to come, she burst out in tears. She crawled to Jerry’s feet, grasping his pant leg, begging him for mercy. “Please, please…don’t make me do this”, she cried.

“Up”, said the other man, grasping her arm and lifting her from the floor.

She did not fight. She did not attempt to flee. She merely stood on the wide platform and allowed the man to fasten the frame’s spokes to the row of inserts along her spinal column.

“Right arm, up and out”, she heard him say.

Slowly, she lifted her arm. As before, he began attaching the metallic tendrils to the girl. One by one, she watched as the threaded spokes were fastened to her fingers, until she no longer had use of her hand.

“Left arm, up and out”, she heard his voice command. Obediently, she did as commanded, watching his every movement until the fingers of her left hand were firmly secured.

After checking to make certain that all connections were correct, the man stepped from the platform and ordered, “Right leg, out.”

She stood stock still, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Please…please don’t do this to me”, the whispered voice pled.

The familiar tingle from the collar returned, prompting her to lift her right leg from the platform and stretch it towards the man. With the proper spoke fixed into the implant set within her heel, her crying became more intense.

“Left leg, out”, she heard him say.

“Please!” she blurted through her tears. “Please, don’t.”

“Left leg, out!” he demanded, his words in sync with the familiar tingling.

Slowly then, and with tears running from her eyes, she lifted her leg, allowing the implants to take her full weight, and placed her foot in the man’s hand. In a moment, she was firmly secured to the frame, with only a few more spokes to attach to her lovely body.

“Remove the collar, get the cross pieces and her hair on, secure the waste control valve and get her boxed”, Jerry told the man. “I want this to slide into place and be hooked up and ready by the weekend.”

“No problem, chief”, Bill replied.

Jerry turned and strode towards the door. Then, just before exiting the room, he turned to face her. Admiring his creation he smiled. “You look beautiful, my dear. You will fit in quite well.” Then he turned and was gone from her sight.

The majority of the anxiety she felt left her after Jerry’s departure. She had managed to find that place of self-preservation that humans are blessed with. It was a place of solitude and numb acceptance of whatever was to come. Within that temporary state, she was barely aware of the men who applied the finishing touches to the prison in which she now lived. Neither did she take much note when the waste control valve was installed within her posterior opening.

Finally, upon her being boxed in a large wooden crate, she slept, dreaming of more pleasant times when life was life and horrors like this were unknown to her.


Review This Story || Author: H. Dean
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