The Many Findings of Dr. Torch Part 1: A Game of Russian Roulette.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic
In a post-war world, a man informs you of the findings of Dr. Torch through a series of stories.

Submitted: September 05, 2015

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Submitted: September 05, 2015

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The Many Findings of Dr. Torch…Part 1: A Game of Russian Roulette

By: Ali Al-Lawati.

 

Introduction

 

Before I set out to expose all of Dr. Torch’s many findings to the post-apocalyptic world, allow me to introduce you to a “past-world” and myself. I go by many names, for I do not know my real name. The war has affected us people greatly in an insurmountable measure that we forgot everything but this: the guns, the people… wailing, running. The trees that broke and the buildings that exploded. However, I am of the lucky few who can remember some other things, including Dr. Torch’s findings. Dr. Torch was a man whom I used to side with, I was one of him, an enemy to the world. The war deprived us of understanding the true meaning of free will; the reason is that “free will” caused this morbid war. I –in other hands- do not agree with this, because I believe that free will is much more; free will requires insight and depth that a normal human would be too lazy to discover or –in other words- do. I cannot tell you my name, I want YOU to give me one, for –I repeat- I do not know my real name. I think I have explained enough and will go to “exposing” the first ever experiment carried out by the somewhat Great Dr. Torch, he calls it A Game of Russian Roulette.

 

End of Introduction

 

It was pitch-black and all that this man could hear was his breathing. He thought he lost his senses, but he regained them when he realized that he could not move his legs, nor his blood soaked waist. For a moment, he thought that he was alone, but suddenly, sounds of wails and cries came from everywhere. He spun his head around like a bird, trying to make out the voices, but then the voices became louder and louder until these cries were replaced by chants and cheers. Still the man could not see anything; he used his free nine-fingered hands to run over his eyes and realized that a thick layer of a material he could not make out covered his eyes, but he COULD make out the fact that he was blindfolded. Fear seeped in him like a stream and he could not do anything but flail his arms until his wrist banged on something hard that made him wince with pain, and at the same time hear the people around him laugh. That is what made the man realize that these people are what is called “a crowd”. Where am I? Thought the man, what am I doing? What WAS I doing? He was in fear, but he tried to push it away by thinking, until, yes! I remember. I was on a mission, but what? I cannot remember. Sweat started pouring from his forehead. He rubbed it away with his four-fingered hand until a booming voice appeared from nowhere: “Welcome.” It was a calm voice, but louder than a meteor. The man covered his ears in desperation. “I am Dr. Torch; you can call me Mr. Torture and this is my…” the doctor hmmmed to think, “…ah yes! My chamber of Insight! Oh how the name is beautiful! I must really congratulate myself someday.” The doctor’s voice was of an old age that is what the man could make out. He could also make out that he is a confident man who might have something bad in store for him. These deductions made the man remember his early days as a detective, until when he was forced to become a mercenary. “The rules are simple, young man.” Said the doctor, “You have five minutes to use your detective skills and identify the nature of this promising event.” The fact that the doctor knew about the man’s previous life bewildered him. What more does this old man know? Thought the man. “If you don’t answer to me in the five minutes, I will surely detonate the little electric blasters all flowing through your bloodstream.” The man was horror-stricken. “Yes”, said the man, “don’t think that your mercenary skills will help you get away. I am the Great Dr. Torch! There are almost one hundred or more electric blasters flowing through your bloodstream, we have cut your waist open to insert them. Once these little pets activate by the press of a button, these miniature devices will shoot electricity all over you, and I promise you young man, I promise you a death you will not like. This is what happens when you do not follow the rules of Dr. Torch. Your small flesh will be electrocuted until you bleed electricity!” The doctor took a small pause to regain his breath, while the man was frozen in shock and fear. “Your time starts now.” The old man said calmly.

Racing time, the detective-turned soldier was coursed with fear and adrenaline. He finally used his senses to grasp what knowledge he can get from the environment he is in, he denoted that since he could hear the voices (chants and screams) from every side then the chamber is circular. “Three minutes left.” Dr. Torch announced, and the chants flew higher and the screams soared. “Come on detective use your skills, or should I say EX-detective.” Dr. Torch laughed, he’s pushing me, the man thought, and he’s doing one hell of a good job. Then the man remembered the table that his leg banged on. He used his free arm, outstretched it to the front and bottom, and realized that he did not touch the table, but something metallic ON the table. As soon as he held it up and felt it, he realized it immediately the 40SW pistol in his hand, the slim version, holding six bullets in a cylinder. He also felt a rough edge in the handle, which made him realize that this is his own gun that he uses.

“Time’s up young man.” The booming voice of Dr. Torch echoed. The sheer anxiety left the man pulsed with fear. “Now,” Dr. Torch said, “you might or might not have solved the mystery of this event. Now, impress me!” The man gulped and later started filling him in the details he grasped from this five-minute spree. “Well done! I must say I am impressed.” The man felt relieved, “but…” the fear rushed again, “you still could not tell me the reason why you are holding such a gun? It’s not just for memories you know.” Now the gun was filled with the man’s sweat. “Come on, ex-detective Jones, why do you have this gun?” Sensing that no answer came from Jones, the old man sighed, “oh well, this means I have to push the fateful button and electrocute you to a pitiful death.” He lifted his hand until, “wait!” The man screamed, “yes?” Dr. Torch said, then Jones replied, “I think I know.” He was panting heavily with every word, “since the people are here witnessing me, then this is none other than a game,” he paused for a second to blurt out the fearful words, “Russian Roulette.”

“Oh how exciting, you figured it out!” The doctor exclaimed, “you know the rules to this game, but I would like to inform you that there IS someone in front of you, it is just that I peeled off his larynx so he cannot speak, nor move. He is temporarily paralyzed, except for his arm, which will be controlled remotely, and head, which he will feel if he got his brains blown up.” Dr. Torch laughed, then regained himself, “let the games begin!”

It was time, the game has begun and Jones was up first, he was in total shock and could not believe his eyes. I never thought I would die like this, he thought with fear. He raised the gun and paused, feeling tears welling up in his eyes. He raised the gun to the side of his head. Feeling the cold gun, he pulled the trigger. Click! He survived, Jones survived the first encounter with the gun, and near encounter with the bullet. He quickly dropped the gun to the table and waited for his innocent-now-opponent to pick it up. Click! Jones heard the gun drop to the table, he is done? This quick? The man was bewildered with fear, until he remembered, he is under control, he cannot move his arm, it is being controlled like a mechanical robot. “Oh, you surely know how to waste my time,” said Dr. Torch, “well get on with it!” Jones held the gun up to his head, as the cold gun touched the side; he remembered the first case he solved. A murder in a house, the house of his love. He saw her, wrapped in fear as she gazed her dead father’s corpse lying in a pool of blood. It was that day when the detective gazed into her delicate green eyes and fell in love. The witness and the detective married after the case by two weeks. Jones remembered his last case, where he held the murderer at gunpoint, the gun touching the same place as where he is now. The detective had no choice but to threaten him this way. However this time, he has to pull the trigger, Jones braced for the narrowed probability of being shot and… click. He survived, relief once again escaped in the form of a breath to the environment. He lowered the gun, waiting for his opponent.

He survived! Two remain, one of them has the bullet. How did this happen? Why am I here? The gun feels so cold in my hand and my head freezes the moment it touches it. Who is this Dr. Torch? Why is he an enemy to me? Why me? Why did he choose me? My detective “skills” do not work in a Russian Roulette. Oh Charlotte, I miss the days you used to wave me goodbye when I embarked on my journey to solve cases, where are you now? I just want to go home. Two remain, I could die now. Please God save me, save us all, I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die this way, a bullet penetrating my brain, shutting down my nerves, shutting down all commands, the pain that will arrive for a split second, the excruciating pain. My heart will continue beating, connected to my body until it will betray me and stop. No please, I don’t want to die. However, it is better to die this way rather than the electric blasters pumping electricity through my veins until I shake with agony, glow blue, and die. I’m sorry Charlotte, I hope you forgive me.

Click. Jones waited for the almost inevitable, but it seemed to have ceased, God gave him a second chance to live. Jones was happy that he survived, he was lucky, but then he felt pity, he pitied the opponent in front of him, paralyzed, unable to move, only now witnessing his inevitable death. Click.

Jones woke up in a place where he can’t explain, he could not see anything, only white, the bright white color around him, as if he is in a case. He could not move, he was lying on a bed. “Welcome.” A calm, old voice echoed alongside him, he turned his head to the right and saw an old man, probably in his seventies, that is what Jones could make out. “You might not understand what happened to you and why you are here? And what was that room filled with crowds of people witnessing the beautiful game between you and the robot.” Robot? Jones was bewildered, he could not speak, he wanted to let out the words, but he could not, “I see you want to talk eh? Well we took care of that, you won’t be talking for now, only I will do the talking.” Fear started to rise once again in Jones, “No no, do not be afraid, I will explain to everything you want to know. You were in an experiment conducted by me, a sort of psychological experiment where I get to test the man’s intuition and instinct in dealing with pressurizing and almost fatal circumstances. I chose you since you had those capabilities. We have been watching you since the day you were inducted into the detective world.” We? Jones thought, “And you have truly peaked my interest. I must say, you never cease to amaze, the results have shown spikes of emotions here and there, you have truly shown what a man, even if he is a detective, or a psychology expert, could do. First there was wonder and curiousness, then fear and terror, with relief on every round survived, then the calm nature when you awoke in this room and curiousness, until the fear welled up in you. You my friend, have given me a positive result to my project, which is called Project Beyond. This name has a meaning and connection to my project. I choose worthy people and test them. Once they show me positive results, I get to take their emotions and capabilities, enhance them and build an army of soldiers to assist the enemy on taking over the world. Now excuse me, I want your brain. I am Dr. Torch, remember me.”

 

 

 

 


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