They’re trying to kill me. I know. Those pills they keep giving me…there’s some kind of drug in them that’s making me hallucinate, see things, hear things. It’s all to break me down, control me, weaken me.
Then, when I die, they can get at my will.
I’m getting old, and they no longer want to wait for me to die. I’m too much of a burden to take care of. Why did I become a father?
Oh, look. My eldest son, Gaines, is coming in my room. What’s he got for me this time? Another pill to make me high as a kite?
Hey…wait! What happened to his face? He has no nose or mouth! The holes are all walled off with skin! How can he breathe like that? What’s that in his hands?
“Here, Dad,” Gaines says, giving me a surgical mask. “You need to wear this from now on. It’s to protect you from germs, and to stop you from passing your own germs on to other people.”
His face moves around as if he has a mouth and jaws, and I can hear his words, muffled as the sound is; but there’s no mouth for the sounds to come out of!
“How can you talk without a mouth?” I ask him.
“Without a mouth?” he says. “What are you talking about? I’m wearing a mask, like this one.” He puts it on my face, saying, “Oh, wait, it must be that my mask has a beige, peach colour. You can’t see well without your glasses, so you think the mask is my skin. You must be imagining things again. You aren’t well. Poor Dad!”
Oh, this mask is uncomfortable on my face! I feel like I can’t breathe with this thing on.
“Mmmf…mmmf!” I moan with this mask against my mouth. I begin to rise from my pillow.
“Dad, relax,” he says, holding me back on my bed and stopping me from getting up. “You’re OK. Don’t be scared. Everything that Valsi and I are doing is for your own good.”
All the time, looking at just his two eyes–no nose, no mouth on that face–it’s creepy-looking.
Now my daughter, Valerie Antonia…Valsi, as we call her, is coming into the room. Oh, no! She doesn’t have a nose or mouth either! There’s no point in my saying it, though: they’ll just tell me she’s wearing a skin-coloured surgical mask, too. I can’t keep quiet, though.
“Mmmf…MMMF!” I’m mumbling in a panic.
“Dad, what are you so scared about?” she asks in her gravelly voice (she smokes too much), though now it’s also muffled, like Gaines’s. “We’re taking good care of you. You’ll be OK. Just trust us. We know what we’re doing.”
Again, I’m trying to rise from my bed, but Gaines is holding me down.
“There’s a nasty bug going around,” she says, getting a shot ready for me. “This vaccine should give you at least some protection from it.”
“Nnnn…NNNN!” I’m moaning in protest, fidgeting and trying to free myself from Gaines’s grasp. I know the drugs they give me make me hallucinate, and I can only imagine how much worse the hallucinations are going to be with that vaccine.
“Dad, it’s OK,” he tells me as he’s trying, with all his strength, to keep me still on the bed. “Stop…being so…paranoid. We’re trying…to help you.”
“I think his mental health is going as well as his physical health,” she says, bringing the needle up to my arm. It’s a few millimetres away from my skin.
“MMMM!” I’m screaming. “NNNN!”
Do I no longer have a mouth and nose? It feels that way.
Oww! I’m feeling the prick of the needle in my arm, only it stings worse than it normally would, like the sharp end of a knife.
Oh, no! I feel the drugs going in my blood.
O true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick.
Everything I see is getting blurry and dark. My energy is fading. I seem…to be floating…between wakefulness…and sleep…
Gaines and Valsi…can do anything…they want…to me now…
I’m seeing…what look like…the waves…of a dark ocean…undulating…all around me…My body is vibrating…with the high…of the drug…but it’s a…paranoid high…
My will…is being taken…from me…I must fight…against the effects…of this drug, with all my effort…with all my strength…I, Nate Ed Will, mustn’t let…my greedy son and daughter…kill me, at least not…without a fight!
I’ll lose…in this struggle–my death is…more than likely–but I will not…die through…a lack of trying…to stay alive! I’ll make…their murder and theft…of my money…and property…as difficult as I can!
Am I dreaming now,…or am I awake?
Are the bizarre images…I see before me…the hallucinations…of the drugs…they’ve given me,…is it just…a dream…or am I losing my mind?
I see…babies coming out…of my mouth? Am I…vomiting babies? Now I see…an oval stone, swaddled like a baby, flying out…of my mouth.
Wait…that needle…Valsi has in her hand…its prick felt…like the tip of a knife…when she stuck it…in my arm…It really is a knife!…I see a knife…in her hand…and now, she’s bringing it down…in a stabbing motion…to my crotch!
Blood is splashing…everywhere around me…an ocean of red…Something further off…is it a fish?…it’s swimming in the blood, swimming and jumping…up out of…and back into…the red. I can’t see it…clearly from here…all I know is…that it’s long and thin…at the top…and it has a beige…peach colour.
It’s coming closer…jumping in arcs…in and out of the red…and towards me. I’m beginning to see…it better now. Hey, wait a minute…that’s no fish…it’s a cock and balls…my cock and balls!
Valsi emasculated me!
Groping around…at my crotch area…I feel nothing…between my thighs. She really cut them off!
Why…would she do…such a thing…to her own father? What purpose…would such…a mutilation serve her? To hasten my death…so she…and her brother…can get their filthy hands…on my money? Or is it all…out of spite?
What did I do…to her…to deserve this?
It must have been…to get at my money. Of course, that’s what…all of this…has been about. My defiance is…slowing down my death…so they’re trying…to speed things up…by castrating me.
Ungrateful, unfilial monsters! That’s what they are.
Still, I’ll defy them…and try to stay alive…as long as I can.
Is this a mask…on my face…or have I lost…my mouth and nose? I’ve got…to find out.
My fingers…are moving all over…my lower face…I don’t feel…any cloth material on it…only skin. I don’t feel nostrils, either. Instead of…a bump…where my nose should be, I feel only…a rounded elevation…below my eyes…and where my mouth…should be.
No hole there! No lips, no teeth, no tongue? They removed…my mouth and my nose! How could they do that…by just putting a mask…on my face? I don’t believe in magic, but I’m…going crazy enough…to start…believing in it.
No mouth. No nose. No cock. No balls.
I’ve lost them all.
Have I lost…my mind, too?
Everything around me…is pitch black, not even…a darkness…with a faint…bit of light…so my eyes…can adjust…to the dark. I haven’t lost my eyes, too, have I?
I’m feeling around…my upper face…that round elevation…where my nose once was…is now just…sloping down smoothly…to my forehead…No depressions…where my eye sockets…are supposed to be.
I have no eyes!
I don’t…even feel…the hair…of my eyebrows.
My hand is…sliding all the way…up and down my face, and all I feel…is smooth skin…with an ovoid shape.
I no longer…have a face…I’ve lost it!
I don’t feel myself breathing, but I must be, since I can still…feel myself…to be alive. Even though my thinking…is that of…a madman, it’s still thinking. Therefore, like Descartes…I exist.
I hear footsteps approaching…yet stopping from…a noticeable distance. I still…have my ears, anyway.
“Dad?” Gaines’s voice is heard to say.
If I can breathe…without a mouth and nose, I suppose…I can still talk…without them, for such is…the bizarre world…I’m living in now. Still, regardless of whether…I can or cannot speak, I don’t wish…to talk to him…or Valsi, so I’m remaining quiet.
“Dad?” he says again. “Are you awake? Can you hear me?” He waits a few seconds…for a reply, which he doesn’t get, then says, “Well, anyway, because of your illness, neither Valsi nor I can get too close to you, so we’re going to leave you alone for a while. When the time comes to give you your next shot, or your pills, or anything else we need to do, we’ll have to use some kind of extension rods or something [I think he said that] to give you what you need, or to move you if we have to. Bye.”
I hear…his footsteps…and the closing…of my bedroom door. I’m all alone in here.
Or so it seems.
Could there be someone…or something…in here with me…all quiet…and ready to pounce on me…not caring about catching my illness…if I even have an illness?
I never really felt sick…until Gaines and Valsi…started harping…on and on…about how ‘sick’ I am. Then, after hearing…about my ‘illness’ enough times, I began…to believe in it. Funny how…all you have to do…is hear a lie…told over and over again, then you…start believing it.
Wait…was that a noise I heard?
Someone shuffling around in here?
Gaines and Valsi left. I heard them walk out, Gaines closing the door. Nobody should be…in here…but me.
Again…a shuffling sound!
Some agonizing silence…I hear…my accelerating heartbeat.
A grunt?
Silence.
Another shuffling sound.
Silence.
Another grunt!
Is there…an animal of some kind…in here?
A shuffle…and a grunt!
Oh! Did I…just feel an animal’s limb…a leg…or a tentacle…brush against…my upper left arm?
Two grunts!
Silence…for about twenty…excruciating seconds.
Uh! Something just brushed…against my right calf! It really felt…like a giant tentacle…or maybe a snake.
My God! A long, loud grunt!
What kind of animal…grunts and has…huge tentacles? What snake grunts? I wish I knew more…about zoology, or marine biology, so I could have…at least some kind of idea…what this thing is!
A tentacle…or a giant snake…just brushed against…my right shoulder!
Silence…for about ten seconds.
I’m shaking all over…sweat is soaking me.
Another grunt…almost as loud…as the last one.
Silence.
Oh! The tentacles…or giant snakes…are grabbing me…by the arms…and legs! I’m being pulled…off the bed!
“NNNN!” is my muffled, mouthless scream, then, “MMMF!”
As the monster…this giant octopus…or group of…giant sea-snakes…is carrying me away, I hear two…familiar voices. I’m fidgeting, trying to free myself.
“Dad, it’s OK,” Gaines says. “Don’t be scared.” Are the snakes…carrying him and Valsi off, too?
“We’re just carrying you to another room,” Valsi says. “We’re using extension rods because we can’t get too close to you. We’ll catch your disease if we do.”
These don’t feel…like any kind of rod…They’re giant snakes! Rubbery, slimy, and slithery!
If Gaines and Valsi…are being carried off…by the sea-snakes, too, aren’t they trying…to free themselves? They seem…willing to be taken…to their doom with me…or maybe…I’m wishing it.
Before, I saw the dark waves…of an ocean…all enveloping me. Now, I feel those waves, as if these giant, grunting sea-snakes…have pulled me…from the beach…and out into the sea. Have Gaines…and Valsi…been taken…into the sea…with me?
Am I breathing water? For all I know, I could have…grown gills, since I no longer…have nostrils.
Everything is…so black, wet, and wavy all around me.
At the moment…it’s…almost peaceful.
Wait!…I just bumped…my leg into…what feels like wood. Now I feel…hard wood…under my back, just over my head, tightly on…either side, and just below…my feet. A lid…just closed over me, though it feels like…it’s covering me…only up to…my neck.
“What’s going on?” I say in the muffled, slurred voice of someone drugged (How can I speak without a mouth?). “What are you…doing to me?”
“It’s for your own good, Dad,” Valsi says.
“This will keep your germs from getting out and infecting us,” Gaines says. “We have no other choice. Sorry, Dad. We have to do this.”
The open space…where my head is exposed…to the outside…is no more. I hear…a board put up…over that space, sealing it up. I move my head…up and hit against it, feeling the wood.
I try…moving around, but can move…only a few inches…if that…in all directions.
Am I in a coffin?
I feel myself…being lifted up…in this rectangular box. Not too long after…being carried somewhere, I’m lowered…far down until…I feel a thud…shaking me and the box.
I hear…what sounds like…shovels digging…into dirt…and the dropping…of the dirt…on the box I’m in. Bits of the dirt…go through…the cracks of the box…and hit me…on the collarbone…and shoulders.
I must be in a coffin.
I know…they’re killing me, but I feel…no urge to resist, to bang my fists…on the wood…and scream for help. Not only…do I lack…the strength and energy…to do so, but the drugs…they’ve put in me…have sapped me…of my will.
I just don’t seem…to care anymore.
I’ll just…let myself die.
They’ll take…all my money…and property. Oh, well…
I just don’t…have the fight…in me anymore.
Just let me die.
To be betrayed…by my own blood.
I worked all my life…to provide for those two…with the wife…that I lost…years ago.
As a professor…of English literature…and Greek myth…I made good money…I gave…Gaines and Valsi…an easy, comfortable life…
And this…is how they repay me!
The lack of love…pretending to be love…is what takes away…my will to live.
I can’t feel myself breathing…having no mouth or nose…but I don’t want to breathe…so it doesn’t matter…
I can’t move…in this coffin…but I don’t want to…
I see only endless black…but I don’t want to see…anything else…there’s nothing else to see…but black…
I feel the life…draining out of me…I am fading to black…I’m becoming the black…that is everywhere…outside of me…What’s within me…and without…are merging.
To be alone…with no love…
People around me…only talking…never listening…
I could have been…left in…a nursing home…and been loved more…than I am…by those…two…INGRATES!
They’ll take my money…and my property…and they’ll prosper…because in this world…the evil thrive…and the good…get no justice…
It’s fitting…that I’m buried…six feet under.
I’m in Hell.
The dirt…is filtering in…more plentifully now…I can feel…more pebbles…hitting my chest…and shoulders.
Wait…are the pebbles…getting bigger?
How are the bigger pebbles…able to slip…through the cracks? The slits…between wood planks…must be wider…than I assumed. After all, I cannot see anything.
Oh!…What was that thud? A rock?
Silence.
Uh!…Two more thuds?
Are they dropping rocks on this coffin?
I feel the rocks…shaking the coffin, cracking the wood!
The dirt…is falling through…more cracks, hitting me…on the stomach, legs,…and my face…rather, where my face…used to be.
More pounding rocks!
I feel the wood…of the coffin…caving in on me. Splintery wood…is stabbing into…my legs, arms, and chest. The weight…of the rocks…is pushing me down…further into Hell…into Tartarus.
Are the Hundred-Handed Ones…hurling rocks at me, burying me in them? It feels that way.
I feel the wood…pressing into…my faceless face, my chest, stomach, groin, arms, and legs.
I’m going to be crushed!
That Gaines…and Valsi…would want…to get rid of me…and get my money…is one thing,…but to be…this cruel about it?! I wasn’t…the most loving father…in the world, but surely…I never did anything…to have them…bear me…any ill will, did I?
The other profs…in the faculty…of humanities…were never friends…of mine, nor I…to them, but surely…my own kids…don’t outright…hate me!
Or do they?
Et tu…brutes?
I’m really…getting…squished…now.
I don’t know…how…much…longer…I…can…t–
Infinite Ocean 