The Doctor's Assistant

Maple View Memorial Hospital

There were always rumors going around at the weekly depression seminars that a 'doctor' worked in the basement of a local hospital. The walls of the basement were supposedly soundproof and the doors were said to be locked at all times. It was only accessible through a back-alley passage that lead to a rusty iron staircase. Local teenagers itching for a way out of life would go there as 'patients'. They were never seen again after their initial visit. It just wasn't a place you walked out of.

The reality of the situation is this: there's a cannibal running an underground operation that assists his suicidal volunteers in killing themselves. It's a win-win situation if you look at it in a weird light. Miserable teens get a way out and a kind older man gets lunch. Some say he has long conversations with the people he's about to kill to get to know them better. I call bullshit on that, but we'll find out the truth in a few more blocks from now.

I'm walking over there. Life hasn't treated me well in the slightest. I have no motivation to do the things I used to love, I feel empty inside, tired constantly, and I feel useless. I'm looking forward to this. I even have a request for the 'doctor'. I know he has a way of doing things, but I don't want his way, I want mine. My death, my terms.

I walked down the creaking metal steps and knocked on the rotting wooden door. I heard shuffling inside and the sound of a key twisting through a lock. The tumblers clicked and the door opened. "Come in, volunteers are always welcome," greeted a voice from inside. It belonged to a man who later introduced himself as Madds. He looked to be in his mid 50s with light brown hair and eyes that matched the color, along with a few wrinkles scattered here and there. He was also wearing a slightly stained lab coat, gray pants, and a pair of loafers. I entered the building and saw a traditional lab set up near the back of the room. A wall at the far left contained a long marble shelf lined with large jars. The jars themselves contained formaldehyde and various human organs. Just staring at them made me shudder. The creepier thing was that most of those organs were brains. They even had little name tags attached to the lids of each jar. I turned away before I could start having an anxiety attack from just being there.

I could practically feel Madds watching my every move as I explored the place. He never said a word as I wandered around. I could hear his occasional chuckle at my reactions to things. His laughter was most noticeable when I came across a steel table with adjustable straps. I'll admit that it freaked me out. Hell, there was even a small blood stain on the floor right by the table. "Looks like you missed a spot," I joked nervously. Madds rolled his eyes, he clearly heard that one before.

"So, um, are you going to kill me or...?" I asked, voice trailing off. I walked in here expecting instant death and got this instead:

"Not quite yet. We haven't had our chat first." It was my turn to roll my eyes. Madds pulled two chairs over to the steel table. He also had two empty mugs and a tea kettle. I offered to help him, but he declined with a smile, continuing his set-up in silence. Once Madds was done, he took a seat and motioned for me to do the same. With that, the conversation began.

"So," said Madds, " what is your name? My apologies for not asking before, you just seemed so intrigued by looking around. I didn't want to bother you."

I took a sip of my tea before answering. "It's okay. My name is Elliot." Madds reached over to a sugar bowl that I hadn't seen him carry, dropped a spoonful into his tea, and then asked me more garden-variety questions such as: "How old are you?" "When is your birthday?" "What is your gender?" "Any hobbies?" "Favorite book?" The list goes on.

My answers were also pretty average: "I'm 17." "My birthday is February 12th." "I was born intersex so I guess I'm non-binary, 'them' pronouns work just fine." "I don't exactly do much of anything, but I like putting things, like little robots, together from time to time." "How dare you try to make me choose just one book? It's impossible." I swear I saw sparkles in his eyes light up at my last two answers. Perhaps I was just imagining things, no one thought I was interesting. Madds moved past small talk at this point and got to some more serious questions.

"Elliot, why are you here today? Aren't there people that will miss you?" The doctor was giving me a somber look.

"Well Madds, my parents died in a car accident a few weeks ago. People that attend school with me think I'm moving away to live with grandparents that don't exist. I don't have any friends, and I've been severely depressed since I was 13. I'm in the ideal situation for dying without anyone noticing," I could hear my voice crack a bit as I tried to hold tears back, some fell anyway. Madds shifted a bit in his seat. I sighed heavily before reaching for my mug, it was empty. While I refilled my cup, Madds continued the conversation.

"My condolences. I can see how that would put you in an even worse mental state than what you've been in previously." The doctor glanced down at the floor and then back at me. Something was on his mind, I just didn't know what. I nodded and told him that he didn't have to apologize. He didn't press on with the subject of my parent's deaths, which I appreciated. An awkward silence passed before Madds spoke again. "Elliot, if you could change one thing about yourself what would it be and why?"

I wasn't expecting that so I thought about my answer for a while before saying, "I guess I would change my eye color. Dark brown is boring, and more than enough people told me that I look dead inside. I think green would suit me better. Much more lively. Better for keeping up a facade of being fine." Madds' eyes were sparkling again. He seemed to enjoy my answer.

"You're the first person that didn't say 'everything'. It's nice to hear a different response for a change," he said, a small smile on his lips, while stirring his tea. I could practically see the metaphorical gears shifting in Madds' head. He had an idea.

"Elliot, let me clear our drinks from the table. When I get back then we can begin." With that, he gathered all of the materials off of the table into his arms and bound his way through some curtains into a conjoining room. I heard a sink turn on as I put the chairs away, and some splashing in said sink as I removed my jacket, climbed onto the table, and laid down. The anesthesia machine mere inches from my head reminded me that this was the end. Waiting for Madds to return gave me time to think of my request; if I even still wanted to give a request at all. I was somewhat a fan of bloody death scenes from horror movies, covering my eyes if the violence got too gory. A brutal stabbing seemed fitting. I thought of how bloody it would be. I shuddered. After a minute of wrestling with myself, I decided against it. He shouldn't have to be hosing my blood off the walls of this place.

Madds returned wearing goggles and medical gloves. His shoes were now covered by plastic bags on his feet, and his lab coat was replaced by a disposable paper smock. He meant business.

He strapped me into place on the table, tightening the straps occasionally to ensure that I couldn't get up. Madds then dragged the anesthesia machine closer to the edge of the table and turned it on. Attached to a hose on the machine was a mask which he placed over my nose and mouth. He told me to take deep breaths, which I did. Ever so slowly, my world faded to black.