Make a wish when a Blackbird flies

Frank was sitting on his bed, staring out at his “window”. It was just a spot on the wall where he managed to peel off the grey paint revealing a pale blue underneath. It reminded him of the sky and he wondered why anyone would want to paint over it.

He was wearing a straight jacket again – they had neglected to take it off after a while – but it was alright, he stole a nail file from one of the female nurses which he then used to cut the sleeves apart so his arms were free. Now it just looked like he was wearing a baggy and ugly, dirty white coat.

In the moments where nothing would happen he often found himself sitting in this way staring at the wall where he peeled off the paint. Today was going to be different, he knew it.

The door swung open and in walked a doctor, white coat and all; he was holding a tray of food.
“Hey there.” He said, almost kindly. “Are you hungry?” He asked, and Frank was. He hadn't eaten in a few days and now he was almost starving, he nodded his head in silence; he had learned that nobody liked it when he spoke, or cried, or screamed.

The doctor came closer and left the tray on the bed, next to Frank.
“You can have that, but you gotta do something for me first.” He said. Frank had learned to recognize the men that came into his room not so much by their faces or names but by the sound and intonation of their voice.

He never really ever looked at their faces. When the doctor spoke he knew that all he wanted was a blow. That's what Frank was waiting for. He unzipped his pants, though Frank was usually indifferent to oblige, today the doctor would be getting something much different.

So he got off the bed and onto his knees in front of him, the man smiling sleazily as he watched him. He was already hard when Frank put his mouth around him; The man moaned and put his hands in his hair when he started sucking.

He would do this in complete apathy with a far away look in his glazed over eyes. But today he had a strange determination in them, just waiting for the right moment, that then deepened when he bit down. Softly at first, just enough to make the doctor complain.

“Ow, no teeth boy!” He exclaimed. Frank lifted his eyes to stare at the doctor, then again bit down, harder than before. The man started pulling his hair, trying to get him to let go, but Frank just held on, sinking his teeth deeper until there was blood flowing in his mouth and the doctor was screaming in agony.

Still he held on until after one last tug at his hair he was pulled off and he fell backwards on his elbows. The doctor had fallen to the ground too, but he was wailing in pain, his hands clutching the bloody stump of what remained of his dick.

Frank didn't waste any time, he got up and ran out the open door that everyone always left open – nobody ever walked by, so who was going to see anything – and ran down the hall. This was only the second time he had tried to escape, and once again he was soon lost in the maze that was this place.

Just like last time he was soon stopped by two male nurses who were waiting for him when he next turned a corner. For a moment nobody moved, they just stared at Frank, his face and clothes covered in blood. He opened his mouth and out dripped blood and the part of the doctor's penis which he had bitten off.

It dropped to the ground with a wet slap and the two men in front of him recoiled in disgust.
“Oh god, is that-?” One chocked out.
“That's disgusting. What did you do, you sick freak?” The other one said.

Frank ran at them then, just charged them with a yell and ran into them when they tried to grab him. He started flailing his arms and legs about, trying to get out of their grip, he almost succeded, but at the last moment one of them punched him in the back of the head knocking him unconscious.

When he next woke up he was lying on a bed which felt too soft to be his own and too uncomfortable to be any other bed on this earth. He tried sitting up but found that he had been tied down to it, legs, arms and torso. He was completely immobilized, and as he moved his head to look around he felt there was some kind of leather strap wrapped tightly around his mouth.

He was in some kind of circular room that looked like a laboratory; on his left was a desk filled with all sorts of papers, tools and glass bottles filled with different coloured fluids. Beside the desk was a large chalkboard, it was covered in illegible scrawl and numbers.

On his other side was another desk, this too was covered in sharp, metallic tools, though most of them just looked like thin metal rods. Beside these instruments where a couple of jars in which what looked like pieces of flesh had been preserved.

He was broken out of his wandering mind when a door that was directly in front of him opened and in walked an old man in a white coat carrying a pot of steaming water, which he left on the desk to Frank's right. He looked like your stereotypical mad scientist; grey messy hair that stuck out at every angle, thick eyeglasses perched at the end of his nose, he even had black rubber gloves on.

When he saw that Frank was awake he smiled the kind of smile you see in your nightmares, yellow and grey teeth showing.
“You're finally awake.” He said in a gravelly, scratchy voice, walking to Frank's side. He had a slight accent which Frank couldn't place, German perhaps.

“Sorry about this.” He said, fingering the leather strap across Frank's mouth. “I've been told you like to bite.” He walked back over to the table covered in metal rods and jars and started tinkering about, picking up each rod and examining it.

“Do you know what a lobotomy is Frank?” He asked, his back still turned. There was no answer since Frank couldn't even move his jaw, but the doctor went on talking. “Once upon a time doctors would take an uncontrollable patient and cut open their head and take out a little piece of brain. Right here, between the eyes.”

As he said the last part he turned around and tapped Frank on the forehead. Frank had begun to shake now and breath heavily. Was this man going to cut into his brain?
“If the patient survived, they would descend into a catatonic state.” The doctor said, turning back around.

He started immersing the metal rods in the steaming water, to sterilize them.
“Nowadays we managed to perfect the operation.” He turned back again now holding one of his metal rods in his hand in clear view.

“By simply pushing this tool through your eye socket and prodding your pre-frontal cortex we shall have the same effect.” He grabbed Frank's face and got really close to it, his rotting breath making him feel sick. “Basically, I'm going to poke your brain with this metal pick and turn you into a vegetable. Then I'm going to fuck you. But don't worry, by that point you won't be so bothered.”

And with that he pried Franks eye open and pointed the sharp end of the rod to the very corner of it, the one closer to his nose. Frank was making noises through the gag around his mouth and tried to move his head away from the lethal object, but the doctor's grip was much too strong, and soon he felt the now cold steel touch the skin where his eyelids met.

All of a sudden the doctor stopped, retreated his hands and looked at the object he was holding.
“Hmm, a little too big I suppose. We don't want to ruin those pretty little eyes of yours do we?” He smiled and walked back in the room he had come through, taking the pot of now cold water with him.

Frank just lay there – he couldn't do much else – shaking violently and letting out panicked noises every time he breathed out. He was suddenly aware of another presence in the room. Someone from behind him walked forward close to his side. Frank didn't see his face yet as he was facing the door the doctor just walked through.

But when he did turn towards Frank he saw he had trails of blood leaking out of his eyes and down his face. It was in that moment that Frank realized he wouldn't survive this operation. In a desperate attempt to free himself he started thrashing around in his restraints, he was making some noise, until the man beside him lifted a finger to his lips, silently telling Frank to be quiet.

He froze and watched as the man – he had no doubt that he was actually dead – undid the buckle of the strap holding his right hand down. It was the kind of simple buckle you would find on any common belt, and the ghost didn't undo it completely, just moved it to the next hole, so that the loop around his wrist was now larger.

He started pulling his arm back then, trying to free himself; he froze again when the doctor walked back into the room, metal rod and boiling pot in hand. Once again he set to work on sterilizing his weapon, and while his back was turned Frank got to work on freeing himself.

“Usually, this sort of procedure is done while the patient is completely asleep.” He took the metal rod out of the water and examined it, meanwhile Frank had succeded in slipping his hand out of the leather restraint and started undoing all the others. “There's less pain, less chance of death.” He was about to turn around right when Frank was having trouble with his legs.

“I on the other hand prefer having a squirming body underneath me as I work.” He turned around just as Frank freed himself completely , stood on his feet, grabbed a handful of those metal rods and drove them into the doctor's neck.

There was a faint squelching sound, like when you poke a puddle of mud with a stick, and after a few seconds of stunned silence Frank repeated the action again and again, until blood was squirting out of the wound and his mouth.

Frank took a step back, dropped the rods to the floor, making loud clanging noises and he just watched as the doctor slumped back against the desk and collapsed to the floor, one hand on his neck where he had been stabbed, making horrible chocking noises, which reminded Frank of the creatures in the movie 28 Days Later.

He watched, until the man bled out and became silent; when he finally did Frank found himself relaxing and he was slightly surprised that he was completely calm. He guessed it was some kind of adrenalin rush that he was going through.

Just before he left that room he unclipped the leather strap around his face and found that he was able to breath a bit better. All he had to do now was find the exit to that godforsaken hell hole.

Notes

What a mess. Not feeling all that good myself actually.
I hope you like this chapter, cauz it's not done yet!! XD