Current mood:	cheerful
Current music:	50 cent - Wanksta

Masterful Creation
For the very first time in my life, I regret having gone to medical school. I recall the first week being somewhat overwhelming, intimidating, perhaps even scary - but all that mattered was the end results. I knew this all along, and I like to think that my confidence towards graduation was what got me through the hardest of times. Not once did I doubt myself or doubt what I was capable of achieving. Since graduation I have saved twenty lives from seemingly inevitable doom, two precious lives for each grueling year of school. Fair trade, if you ask me. Hopefully I will be able to save my twentyfirst today. The girl chained to the wall across from me stopped breathing for a moment. I screamed at the top of my lungs, demanding her to wake up and stay strong. A loud stomp on the floor above shook the meat hooks and chains attached to the many links pierced through the grimy ceiling. That was his way of saying 'quiet down, or else.'. The clinking and rattling awoke the traumatized girl. Thank God. I can't stand to watch one more child die right before my eyes as I lay here bound, helpless, futile. Never would I have imagined that busting my ass for ten years in medical school would grant me this abstruse reward. What am I saying, reward? This is punishment. This is a curse. This is hell. I have become a literal slave doctor, forced to treat his victims so they do not perish before he desires. Once a week, I am presented with the option of preserving a little girl's life, even if only for another day, or I can use my expertise to determine if whether or not there is any chance of survival. No one deserves to witness what I have seen; beatings, mutilations, beheadings, evil in its purest form. The man above once described himself as 'evil incarnate'. Sadly, I have come to agree with his insanely idealistic visions. He suffers from delusions of grandeur, often whispering arrogant soliloquies, dressing how he imagines a God would dress. Hesitantly, I attempted to get the girl's attention, but she only sat there, comatose, not even bothering to wipe the blood trickling down from the laceration across her eyebrow. The door leading to upstairs opened and light poured down the decaying, wooden stairway. For a moment, I lost my own breath. The man childishly hopped on to the handle for the stairs and used his rear to slide down on to our level. A feral grin stretched across his face as he brandished his weapon of choice, a five-inch long scalpel, coated with dried up blood. "You are a masterful creation." the man hissed in to the little girl's ear. She whimpered. I sat there powerless, struggling with the trenchant chains. "I will genuinely enjoy cutting you open and removing the sheath of your ignorance," he said while playing with her hair. With evident contempt I yelled "Leave her the fuck alone, you monster!". He turned to me with a menacing look and yelled "Watch your mouth when in front of the girl!" back at me. The word 'girl' echoed off of the greasy walls surrounding us. I felt hatred towards the serial killer moreso than fear. It had become quite clear that he needed me and I abused that fact with every chance I received. "Come on, she's in a lot of pain, let me take a look at her first." I begged. "You don't know what pain is." he said and motioned the blade around the little girl's head. Looks like someone has been watching too much "Silence of the Lambs". He knelt down and spoke a silent whisper covered by a hand shaped in cup-form around the girl's tiny ear. She started to cry again. He was getting worse; far more sadistic, abusive, creative. He dug the scalpel into her forehead, the girl instinctually swatted at the blade and it flung from his flimsy grasp. The blade glimmering with fresh blood lay on the floor, right in front of the girl, unoccupied. "Kick the knife over to me!" I screamed. The man from above lunged for the scalpel just after the girl effectively booted the weapon in my direction. I reached down and clutched the surgical instrument between my legs and stood up straight, my shadow casting darkness over the merciless predator. If there was any hope for escape, it would be right about now. "Oh, I love this. This is really getting my juices flowing. What are you going to do, doctor? You are a mere pawn. I am eternal." he said while slowly approaching me. Let's see if eternal can survive a puncture wound to the thyroid gland. I bellowed the word "Justice." and whipped the scalpel across the room and hit him directly in the neck. He instantly collapsed to the ground and began to gargle his own blood. The girl and I watched as the legend wriggled in agony on the filthy floor. Finally, he stopped moving. I looked into the twelve year old girl's eyes and said "We're going to be alright.".