"The Vitruvian Man" Part 3 of 5

“It’s only the masters that matter. Those who create.” Pablo Picasso

You hear it every time someone makes a huge mistake. In every film or book when something terrible has taken place and the fear grips you a single sentence or remorse escapes your lips.

“What have I done?”

None of us have the chance to say it aloud but I know it is what we are all thinking. The guards rush into the room just as Victor frees himself. One guard dives at Victor only to be caught mid-air by the throat. Victor tosses him aside as if he were but a sheet of paper. The sound of his neck snapping on impact causes us all to jump. Timms makes a run for the door and suddenly finds himself on his stomach with Victor on his back.

“Someone stop him!” Ripley shouts. Victor puts his fist through Timms head hard enough to dent the floor. He dies instantly. Jim grabs Dr. Rivers and I and pulls us to the other side of the room.

“This is exactly what I said would happen!” Jim says.

“Does it feel good to be right?” Dr. Rivers asks him.

“No” he replies.

Five more guards enter and dive on top of Victor. The begin to hit him with batons that contain electrical charges. Victor stands and the guards fly off of him like children atop a giant. He takes on of the batons and looks at it as if he has never seen such a thing. Actually, he has not. He pokes at his hand with it and seems confused. He then pokes one of the guards with it who begins to scream. You can almost smell the pieces of the puzzle being put together in his mind. He is understanding pain.

One of the guards grabs Victor from behind. Victor begins to leave the room while dragging the guard. A moment later a head is tossed into the room. Dr. K’Malan crosses himself as sirens begin to blare throughout the building. Dr. Pruet walks over to the head and bends down, only inches from it.

“He’s dead” she says.

“You think?!” Ripley shouts. “Are there anymore guards?!” A voice booms over speakers that can not be seen.

“Do not panic. There is no need to panic. Exit in an orderly manner. Do not use the elevators. Use the stairs conveniently located on the south east corridors. Again, there is no need to panic. Thank you.”

“Fucking hell” Jim says. “Where are The Big Heads now? They’re the ones that caused this shit! They torture someone and do nothing when he loses his mind and attacks us!”

We all rush to the door just as the computer told us. Like good little lambs to the slaughter. We get there and the door will not open. We all pound on it. Nothing happens.

“Do not panic.”

“Shut up!’ Dr. Rivers shouts.

We try to pry the door open to no avail. Just then we hear a scream and turn just in time to see Victor holding a torso in one hand and an arm in the other. They do not belong to the same person.

“Do not panic.”

“Victor, there is no need for this bloodshed” I say. “You do not have to turn into a monster.”

“Monster” Victor says. “’An imaginary creature usually having various human and animal parts. Giant: someone or something that is abnormally large and powerful. Freak: a person or animal that is markedly unusual or deformed. A cruel wicked and inhuman person.’” He drops the body parts and ponders for a moment. “I am not imaginary. I am strong though. Not abnormal in any sense. Cruel. Am I cruel? ‘Disposed to inflict pain or suffering.’ No, not cruel. I am just…am.”

“No, Victor” Dr. Rivers says. “You were meant for so much more than this.”

“Was I?” he asks. “I was just alive. You all brought me pain. It took a moment for me to figure out what pain was. ‘Suffering or distress.’ Yes. I was suffering. I was in distress. I had no need to feel these things. You made me. I was what you would call content. I was what I was. I was am.” He stops for a moment and looks at the blood on his hands. “Blood. Do I contain this?”

“Yes” I tell him and take a step forward. Jim grabs my arm and I pull free. “Victor, please just calm down and…”

“I am calm” he says. “’Not excited or agitated; composed.’ I am these things. What is a Victor?”

“Your name” I say.

“What does it mean?” he asks.

“Champion” Jim says.

“Champion of…?” Victor asks.

“Nothing” Ripley says. “Now just stay right there and let the guards lead you away. Everything will be fine.”

“Your heart is racing” Victor says to Ripley. “Why?”

“Because he’s afraid of you” Dr. K’Malan says.

“Why?” he asks.

“You’re covered in blood!” Jim screams. “My, God! Look at you! You shouldn’t even exist! You were created in a lab!”

“Explain” Victor says.

“I’d really rather not” Jim says. “Look. You were not born like the rest of us.”

“Explain…”

"The Vitruvian Man" Part 2 of 5

“What really interests me is whether or not God had any choice in the creation of the world.” - Albert Einstein

“Close to one billion dollars have been spent creating this creature. I refuse to wait another day while the two of you attempt to get it to speak. He has enjoyed a charmed life thus far. No more. Pain. It has never experienced pain. Let us see if he will speak with 2000 volts of electricity coursing through his body. Now get started. Now.”

And that was the end of it. The Big Heads have decided that Victor must be tortured in an attempt to make him speak. Dr. Rivers and I leave and do not say a word until we are back in my office. Dr. Rivers sits again on the edge of my desk and stares at my wall which is covered in plaques. Jim enters the room without knocking.

“So?” he asks.

“We torture the worlds first perfect man” Dr. Rivers says.

“Oh, bullshit!” Jim shouts. “Why in the hell do they want to torture the guy? He hasn’t done anything!”

“That is the problem” I say. “If he would have at least yawned this would not be happening. They want us to electrocute him.”

“This is gonna end bad” Jim says. “Have they never seen a horror movie? You make a creature and mess with him and you know what happens next? He fucking loses his mind and kills everyone! Its Frankenstein! I’m not doing this!”

“Yes, you are” Dr. Rivers says. “You do not have a choice. Do I even need to remind you of what happened to Tammy?”

“Jesus…” I moan.

Tammy aka Dr. Tamara Rhodes aka She Who Shall Not Be Mentioned was a researcher early in the program. She was a team player. All for making the perfect human. But the day she heard his first heartbeat she decided that we were wrong and should not play God. No one knows what happened to her. There was no explanation given from The Big Heads. No one bothered to ask. There are rumors that she is in a petri dish on Level 6. Some say she was dissected and will be used as the prototype for the next experiment. I would rather not think about Tammy.

The next day the three of us are seated across from Victor. For the past two hours we have done everything possible to make him respond to us. Jim even tried to convince Dr. Rivers to flash him. For a moment I believed that she would. Anything to keep us from having to torture this man. There is a beep and the door slides open. Ripley and Timms enter.

“Is he ready?” Ripley asks.

“To have his fucking brain fried?” Jim asks. “Sure. You bet he is! Look at how excited he is! Hey, V-Man! You ready to feel terrible for the first time in your life?!” Victor just stares at him and then at Ripley.

“Creepy son of a bitch” Timms says. “Get him in these” he says and tosses a pair of black pants and a white shirt. “Guys upstairs say this will keep him from, you know, bursting into flames or whatever.”

“’Or whatever’” Dr. Rivers says. “How very professional of you.”

“Have you gained weight?” Timms asks Dr. Rivers.

“Yes, I have” she replies. “I am carrying around the extra money I make. Twice as much as you the last time I checked.”

“Enough” Ripley says. “Let’s get this over with.”

Half an hour later we are in a room with eight chairs but only one looks like it was made to hurt. All of us are here to see this, even Jim. Seated in the front are Dr. Rivers, Ripley, me, and Dr. Pruet. In the second row is Jim, Timms, and Dr. K’Malan. Victor is brought in by security that never speak, never run, and never show their faces. I wonder how much they even know about this program. For all they know we are a bunch of fetish afficianados about to watch a one man show. Victor does not resist.

They place him in the chair and place thick straps around his ankles, wrists, torso, around his waist, and neck. He does not resist. A slight hum is heard and a large spike emerges behind Victor’s head. The guards leave quietly. I can feel Dr. Rivers tense next to me.

“Je ne te quitterai point que je ne t'aie vu pendu” Dr. K’Malan says. “I pray we are doing the right thing.”

“What he say?” Ripley asks.

“’I will not leave you until I have seen you hanged’” Dr. Rivers says. “From Jean Baptiste Poquelin Moliere.” She turns to face Dr. K’Malan. “As far as praying goes, I think that prayer and God cease to exist once we put on our lab coats.”

“Oh, get over yourself” Timms says. “God never made a perfect man. We did. I mean, maybe he did. But you see how that ended.”

“Apparently being perfect gets you nailed to a cross” Jim says. “Or Kentucky fried.”

Another low hum quiets everyone. The large spike crackles with electricity before stabbing Victor in the back of his neck. He does not scream. But a new expression crosses his face. One we have not seen in him before.

Confusion.

The spike emerges lightly dripping spinal fluid and blood. Victor looks at us as if to ask, “Why are you not helping me?” The spike enters once again. This time Victor gasps. Dr. Rivers grabs my hand for a moment before releasing it. The spike emerges and once again stabs at Victor. He opens his mouth wide in a silent scream.

“Say something, you fool” I whisper to myself. Blood runs down his shoulders, staining his blonde hair. His crystal blur eyes search the room for something he can not ask for. Help. “How much longer must this go on?” I ask.

“Until he says something” Timms says.

“He is in too much pain to speak now” Dr. Pruet says. She is the newest member of the research team and also the youngest. When she speaks it is low, direct, and definite. There is never a trace of emotion in her voice or reactions. I turn to see her simply watching Victor being tortured as if she were watching an ant crawling amongst spilled sugar. “He’ll be dead in minutes unless he says something.”

The spike enters once again, this time a stream of blood springs from Victor’s neck, causing Jim to gasp. I watch him attempt to rise from his chair and then the sound of his rear end being slammed back in place. No doubt by Timms. Victor’s hands clenched as the spike penetrates his skin sending thousands of volts of electricity into his body.

“Is this what it was like for God to watch His son die?” Dr. Rivers asks.

“No” I respond. “God knew what would happen to his child the moment He was created. None of us could have foreseen this.” Victor gasps once again, this time blood issuing from his mouth. “That is enough!” I shout.

Victor’s hands relax as the spike is drawn from his neck. Blood trickles from the corners of his mouth. His entire body goes limp. The room is silent. None of us stand. None of us check to see whether or not Victor is still alive.

“Back to the drawing board” Timms says as he stands to leave. He stops when a sound comes from Victor. He is alive!

“D…d…d…d…d…” he says lightly. We all stand and listen to him. “D…”

“What is he saying?” Jim asks.

“D…d…d…d…”

“Something about ‘D’” Ripley whispers. “I can’t tell.”

“D…d…d…”

“Where in the hell are those guards?” Dr. Rivers asks.

“D…d…”

“Or at least the medics” Jim says. “Okay, guys! You got what you wanted! He’s speaking! Now get him some damned help!”

“D…”

“Say it!” I shout.

“Death.”

"The Vitruvian Man" Part 1 of 5

“If there were no God, it would have been necessary to invent Him.” - Voltaire

“What is your name?” I ask him. He just stares at me. A cold, icy stare. If I were a religious man I would say he appeared to have no soul. But alas, I am not a religious man. Though born Catholic I have long since renounced my faith. I have found it quite difficult to believe in God when I have done what he has.

Created man.

“Do you know where you are? How old you are?” He continues to just stare at me. As I pace the room his eyes follow me. He rarely blinks. His eyes have been engineered containing an overly adequate amount of tear ducts thereby eliminating the need to blink often. I find it creepy. “You are allowed to speak freely.”

His nostrils flare slightly. Someone must be approaching. Sure enough, my assistant Shane Rivers enters the lab. Lab. Amusing. This is as much a lab as an alley is an emergency room. This is not a lab. This is the Disneyworld of science. Floor Negative 18. Level 37 security clearance. Only fifteen know of its existence and just seven of them are allowed inside.

“Dr. Black” Rivers says. Its more of an acknowledgement of my existence in the room than a greeting. Rivers has always rubbed many of our colleagues the wrong way. Very self assured, arrogant, and attractive. “Has he spoken today?”

“Yes” I tell her flatly. She knows he has not spoken. In the four weeks he has existed he has yet to say a word. Multiple examinations have been completed and they all showed that he indeed has vocal cords that work perfectly. Beyond perfectly. I should know. I made them. “Just before you arrived he and I were discussing the current political climate. I am under the suspicion that he is a very right wing conservatist.”

“I see you have yet to solve the riddle of the humor gene” she says and sits down across from our “child.” Rivers picks up a clipboard and flips through a few pages. “How are you doing today?” she asks him. He just stares at her. I have suggested she flirt with him if for any reason that I would find it humorous. “When are we going to name him?” she asks me.

“Soon hopefully” I tell her. “I am tired of referring to him as ‘him’, ‘it’, and ‘patient.’ Have you heard what Jim has started calling him?” Jim is another one of the researchers for the project. It took five years before I was able to not call him Dr. Roberts. His name is James but he prefers Jim.

“Oh, what wonderful name has Jim come up with?” Rivers asks while rolling her eyes.“

"'The Vitruvian Man’” I say. She places the clipboard on the table and looks at me.

“That actually is not half bad” she says. “Can we call you Vitruvian Man?” she asks him.

“It sounds odd” I say. “Maybe Victor?”

“Fine” Rivers sighs. She removes a small recorder from her coat pocket and speaks. “Patient from this point forward is to be referred to as Victor and the suggestion of Dr. Black and myself, Dr. Rivers.” She places the recorder back into her pocket. “Good day, Victor.” He just stares at her. “Perhaps it is his hearing.”

“No, I have checked already” I tell her. “I am beginning to think he is just rude.” After another half hour of attempting to coax Victor into speaking, Dr. Rivers and I leave him alone with whatever thoughts he has.
Near my office I hear Jim whistling further down the corridor. I attempt to quickly gather my keys and enter before being spotted. I fumble my keys and they crash to the ground sounding unbelievably loud in the silence.

“Hey, Blackie!” Jim shouts. “Any word from the V-Man?”

“None” I tell him. “And he is now named Victor.”

“Victor?” Jim asks with an expression on his face as if he just walked into an unpleasant smell. “Yeah, no. No, I don’t like that. Sounds too Russian.”

“Isn’t your wife Russian?” I ask him.

“Exactly!” he says and bullies his way into my office. He sits at my desk and places his feet on my desk.

“Were you raised by animals?” I ask him.

“No” he says. “New Yorkers.”

“Same difference” I say as I dodge a paperclip he tosses my way. I sit on my couch and sigh.

“Aw, what’s wrong?” Jim asks me.

“It’s Victor” I tell him. “I just do not understand why he refuses to speak. At this point he should be speaking in eighteen different languages. But all he will do is just look at us.”

“Have you asked Shane to flash her boobs to him?” he asks. “That would get me talking!”

“To a divorce lawyer maybe” I say. “Perhaps he just doesn’t have anything to say” Jim says. “Or he finds the two of you horribly boring. Either way it doesn’t matter. We’ve created the perfect man! Next we’ll make the perfect woman and then I can get out of this dump!”

“The perfect woman has already been made” I tell him.

“If you say Bettie Page again I swear I will build the perfect foot and shove it up your…” Jim begins to say before Dr. Rivers enters the room. “Hey, speaking of perfect women! Hello, Shane.”

“Jim” she says and sits on my desk with her back to Jim. I am sure he is staring at her lab coat covered backside. “The Big Heads have decided that they are not willing to wait for Victor to decide to begin speaking. They want us to force him to speak.”

“Force?” Jim and I both say.

“Yes, twins” she says.

“And how are we supposed to do that?” Jim asks.

“Torture” she says.