Bandage
Apr 22nd, 2008, 10:01:44 AM
Journal of Dr. Darla Rourke, Head Examiner, The Jericho Center for Genetic Medicine.
Entry Number 65.
Dated April 20, 2008.
Time marked: 12:30AM
Dear God. Doctor Yarik is dead.
Strangled.
It all happened when we received a large package in the Shipping department, not an hour ago. It was a refrigerated unit, eight by four foot metal casing. The seal, once broken by our Receiving Team, revealed a body, humanoid in construction. It was male. The skin burned from its body, leaving a completely charred husk. It was no larger than a normal human being, nor did it seem to have any abberations of any kind. It was unconscious, but alive. No one from the Receiving Team dared to touch it. The guards were called, just in case the thing was indeed a dangerous mutant, should he regain consciousness and begin doing God knows what.
Dr. Yarek was called down to deal with it. As the floor's head doctor, he wore many hats. Upon seeing the body, he called it "some sick joke." And then began the charge to have it euthanized. I was there to witness to the paperwork, when the strangest thing happened. It seemed out of a movie.
There was a hum. It started low at first, but it slowly escalated. Objects around the small receiving area began to move of their own accord. Suddenly, the armed guards called to deal with the situation, began to find themselves systematically disarmed, their guns and batons and tazers taken from their holsters telekinetically. Then they began to unravel, as if taken apart by some sort of technician. Stranger still, the parts seemed to be categorically separated, right in front of the guards. The weapons were useless. Furthermore, those guards who were gifted in unarmed combat procedures complained to me, the next in charge. They explained to me that they were somehow paralyzed, unable to move at all, despite their best efforts. All claimed to have headaches, nausea, and disorientation. I would scarely believe it myself, if it weren't for the fact that I had experienced such symptoms myself.
During this time, I felt like my mind was being torn open, exposed, all my innermost thoughts and secrets exposed.
And all seemed to realize that they were being tampered with at the same time, when the male....creature in the cooler awakened, sitting up slowly and stiffly, its limbs creaking like leather. It was like something in a nightmare.
It walked, like something from one of those horrid zombie movies, slowly at first. But with each step came renewed energy, or a regaining in flexibility. Soon it was walking normally, the Charred Man. And it walked toward Dr. Yarek, eyes unblinking, orbs blue in color. In its eyes, I saw....no normal emotion. No outrage. No hatred. No anger. No shock. No happiness. Just an unusual...curiosity? It looked the Doctor up and down, as if studying him, or sizing him up. Then, with a motion of its hand, the Charred Man walked away from Dr. Yarek.
I then watched in horror as Yarek breathed a sigh of relief, only to realize, eyes wide in terror, as his own tie around his neck, brought together in a Windsor knot, began to tighten of its own accord. It continued to tighten, until the flesh around the Doctor's neck became bruised, and even bled. His eyes began to bulge, his breaths came out in gags and airless gasps. I tried to make a step towards him, to sieze the scissors on the desk and cut the tie from his neck.
I couldn't even move. I couldn't even show my own horror or pain as my head filled with a searing pain, as if there was a fire inside my brain. And to make matters worse, the scissors levatated, making their way to Dr. Yarek's face. He watched in horror as they came close to his skin, only to trim the bang that he complained about that would block his vision from time to time. And then, as suddenly as it began, there was a pop and a snap, and it all ended. The objects levatated around the room clattered to the floor, and the doctor fell to the floor, his neck resting at an awkward angle, face a shade of blue I have never seen in a live person.
Dear God. Doctor Yarek is dead.
I can only pray for his family.
Entry Number 66.
Dated April 21, 2008.
Time marked: 11:30PM.
As I sit here, showered, and ready for bed, I find sleep unable to come. So, I write to pass the time, and to collect my thoughts.
The Charred Man situation has only become stranger. Any attempts to subdue him have failed, resulting in injured personnel or equipment.
Any attempts to analyze him have failed. Photographs and video footage fail, or become data-corrupted, or become negative images that are utterly useless.
A skin sample resulted in an assistant nearly losing an eye when the tweezers imbedded themselves into a wall near his head.
A blood sample resulted in over twenty needles damaged. They were bent as soon as they made contact with the charred tissue, as if some inertial barrier has been placed around the Charred Man.
At best, we can only make some intelligent observations: one, that he is alive because some strange form of homeostasis is reached inside his body, produced mentally to keep his charred body from going into amphylactic shock. Two, that he has extreme psychic and telekinetic abilities that protect him and harm others. And three, he may not even be a mutant; he may not even be human.
This is said because of his actions: they all seem to be out of some strange form of self-preservation. All actions were not out of spite, malevolence, or vengance of any kind. As far as we can tell, if we leave him be, the Charred Man leaves us be.
It only allows us to feed him. And to place bandages coated with an aloe and cooling solution onto him. This has caused him to be dubbed Bandage by some of the staff. This only makes him look creepier, in my opinion. As if he were some charred mummy now, instead of just some half-living being. Some undead thing come back to take its vengance upon us all.
Bandage seems to be his only name of sorts. He seems to respond to it, so much as to look at those speaking to, or about him. Yet he makes no attempt to contact, or respond to us. Whatever he needs or wants, the staff seems to get. They have even stopped in mid-procedure to get the Charred Man his needs and wants, resulting in several procedures ending half-way, such as an attempt to ground out a girl that created pulses of electric energy upon contact. This led to a person being nearly killed because of electric shock.
We've essentially shut down the third sub-basement, since the Charred Man seems to be an uncontrollable entity. But even this precaution has done little to stop the strange being from showing up on various floors, being seen by our more disturbed subjects, leading to hysteria and beliefs that the hospital is "haunted by a mutant that we have burned to a crisp in our incinerator." Funny, we don't even have an incinerator that is capable of fitting a body into.
The Charred Man has now turned our third sub-basement into his living quarters, though he has not started to decorate it. I can only hope the thing doesn't start to decorate it with the deaths and injuries he has sustained. Otherwise, Dr. Yarek would be a central part of a mural piece, around pieces of charred skin, compound broken bones, gouged eyes pinned up with various pointed objects, and electrified limbs that would still move and jerk about on the wall.
Entry Number 65.
Dated April 20, 2008.
Time marked: 12:30AM
Dear God. Doctor Yarik is dead.
Strangled.
It all happened when we received a large package in the Shipping department, not an hour ago. It was a refrigerated unit, eight by four foot metal casing. The seal, once broken by our Receiving Team, revealed a body, humanoid in construction. It was male. The skin burned from its body, leaving a completely charred husk. It was no larger than a normal human being, nor did it seem to have any abberations of any kind. It was unconscious, but alive. No one from the Receiving Team dared to touch it. The guards were called, just in case the thing was indeed a dangerous mutant, should he regain consciousness and begin doing God knows what.
Dr. Yarek was called down to deal with it. As the floor's head doctor, he wore many hats. Upon seeing the body, he called it "some sick joke." And then began the charge to have it euthanized. I was there to witness to the paperwork, when the strangest thing happened. It seemed out of a movie.
There was a hum. It started low at first, but it slowly escalated. Objects around the small receiving area began to move of their own accord. Suddenly, the armed guards called to deal with the situation, began to find themselves systematically disarmed, their guns and batons and tazers taken from their holsters telekinetically. Then they began to unravel, as if taken apart by some sort of technician. Stranger still, the parts seemed to be categorically separated, right in front of the guards. The weapons were useless. Furthermore, those guards who were gifted in unarmed combat procedures complained to me, the next in charge. They explained to me that they were somehow paralyzed, unable to move at all, despite their best efforts. All claimed to have headaches, nausea, and disorientation. I would scarely believe it myself, if it weren't for the fact that I had experienced such symptoms myself.
During this time, I felt like my mind was being torn open, exposed, all my innermost thoughts and secrets exposed.
And all seemed to realize that they were being tampered with at the same time, when the male....creature in the cooler awakened, sitting up slowly and stiffly, its limbs creaking like leather. It was like something in a nightmare.
It walked, like something from one of those horrid zombie movies, slowly at first. But with each step came renewed energy, or a regaining in flexibility. Soon it was walking normally, the Charred Man. And it walked toward Dr. Yarek, eyes unblinking, orbs blue in color. In its eyes, I saw....no normal emotion. No outrage. No hatred. No anger. No shock. No happiness. Just an unusual...curiosity? It looked the Doctor up and down, as if studying him, or sizing him up. Then, with a motion of its hand, the Charred Man walked away from Dr. Yarek.
I then watched in horror as Yarek breathed a sigh of relief, only to realize, eyes wide in terror, as his own tie around his neck, brought together in a Windsor knot, began to tighten of its own accord. It continued to tighten, until the flesh around the Doctor's neck became bruised, and even bled. His eyes began to bulge, his breaths came out in gags and airless gasps. I tried to make a step towards him, to sieze the scissors on the desk and cut the tie from his neck.
I couldn't even move. I couldn't even show my own horror or pain as my head filled with a searing pain, as if there was a fire inside my brain. And to make matters worse, the scissors levatated, making their way to Dr. Yarek's face. He watched in horror as they came close to his skin, only to trim the bang that he complained about that would block his vision from time to time. And then, as suddenly as it began, there was a pop and a snap, and it all ended. The objects levatated around the room clattered to the floor, and the doctor fell to the floor, his neck resting at an awkward angle, face a shade of blue I have never seen in a live person.
Dear God. Doctor Yarek is dead.
I can only pray for his family.
Entry Number 66.
Dated April 21, 2008.
Time marked: 11:30PM.
As I sit here, showered, and ready for bed, I find sleep unable to come. So, I write to pass the time, and to collect my thoughts.
The Charred Man situation has only become stranger. Any attempts to subdue him have failed, resulting in injured personnel or equipment.
Any attempts to analyze him have failed. Photographs and video footage fail, or become data-corrupted, or become negative images that are utterly useless.
A skin sample resulted in an assistant nearly losing an eye when the tweezers imbedded themselves into a wall near his head.
A blood sample resulted in over twenty needles damaged. They were bent as soon as they made contact with the charred tissue, as if some inertial barrier has been placed around the Charred Man.
At best, we can only make some intelligent observations: one, that he is alive because some strange form of homeostasis is reached inside his body, produced mentally to keep his charred body from going into amphylactic shock. Two, that he has extreme psychic and telekinetic abilities that protect him and harm others. And three, he may not even be a mutant; he may not even be human.
This is said because of his actions: they all seem to be out of some strange form of self-preservation. All actions were not out of spite, malevolence, or vengance of any kind. As far as we can tell, if we leave him be, the Charred Man leaves us be.
It only allows us to feed him. And to place bandages coated with an aloe and cooling solution onto him. This has caused him to be dubbed Bandage by some of the staff. This only makes him look creepier, in my opinion. As if he were some charred mummy now, instead of just some half-living being. Some undead thing come back to take its vengance upon us all.
Bandage seems to be his only name of sorts. He seems to respond to it, so much as to look at those speaking to, or about him. Yet he makes no attempt to contact, or respond to us. Whatever he needs or wants, the staff seems to get. They have even stopped in mid-procedure to get the Charred Man his needs and wants, resulting in several procedures ending half-way, such as an attempt to ground out a girl that created pulses of electric energy upon contact. This led to a person being nearly killed because of electric shock.
We've essentially shut down the third sub-basement, since the Charred Man seems to be an uncontrollable entity. But even this precaution has done little to stop the strange being from showing up on various floors, being seen by our more disturbed subjects, leading to hysteria and beliefs that the hospital is "haunted by a mutant that we have burned to a crisp in our incinerator." Funny, we don't even have an incinerator that is capable of fitting a body into.
The Charred Man has now turned our third sub-basement into his living quarters, though he has not started to decorate it. I can only hope the thing doesn't start to decorate it with the deaths and injuries he has sustained. Otherwise, Dr. Yarek would be a central part of a mural piece, around pieces of charred skin, compound broken bones, gouged eyes pinned up with various pointed objects, and electrified limbs that would still move and jerk about on the wall.