Whisper House Press

The Massage

by Paul Lonardo

“You won’t regret it,” Nick said after convincing Scott to get the massage. “It will change your life.”

“That’s why I’m going,” Scott told his friend. “My doctor says I need to make some changes in my life if I want to live to see my new grandson play Little League. So I quit smoking and started a new diet. And if this massage is as good as you say, I can reduce my stress level on top of everything else. I’ll be a whole new man.”

“Susan is amazing,” Nick added. “I don’t know how she does it, but she not only invigorates your skin, but she awakens every muscle and nerve in your body. And it lasts for days. You’ll feel every sensation like never before. I don’t know how else to describe it. You just feel…alive.”

Scott was excited when he called to set up an appointment and got a slot the following day. The timing couldn’t have been better because he had been feeling tense the past few weeks, with persistent neck and shoulder tightness. He was looking forward to a relaxing massage.

When he arrived, he filled out a form, enumerating his underlying health or medical conditions: He checked the boxes for high blood pressure and heart condition. He handed it back to the receptionist, who escorted him into one of the rooms.

“Once you get undressed, hop up onto the table, lie on your belly under the covers, and the massage therapist will be right with you,” the woman told Scott.

The table was heated, and the soft, low tempo music was so soothing it almost put him to sleep. He didn’t hear anybody enter the room.

“Remain relaxed. I’m Susan, your massage therapist.”

“Hello,” he said, keeping his eyes closed and his head down in the facerest. “Nice to meet you.”

Susan reported she’d read the information he’d provided and asked him what areas of his body he wanted her to target. Once she started working on him, they didn’t speak again. She began on his upper spine and neck, gently manipulating the cervical vertebrae.

He couldn’t help but moan in delight. When Scott’s eyes flickered open, he caught a glimpse of the bottom of her legs in black Spandex and her white shoes, the kind a nurse might wear.  He closed his eyes once more.

As she worked on his left arm, a sudden shooting pain radiated through his shoulders. He cringed, thinking she had triggered a nerve, causing the burning sensation. Every muscle in his body seemed to lock up, and he began perspiring profusely. As a wave of nausea swept over him, a tightness in his chest quickly intensified from discomfort to agony.

Then, all at once, the pain stopped and he only felt cold.

He knew he was lying on his back now. He didn’t remember rolling over, and he wondered if he had blacked out.

His eyes were still closed, but when he tried to open them, he found he could not. As if in a nightmare from which he was on the verge of waking, he was unable to move. He could hear voices nearby, however, so he knew he wasn’t alone.

What’s happened? Can anyone hear me? Please.

“What happened to him?” one of the voices asked.

“He had a massive coronary during his massage,” the other one answered. “Died instantly.”

“How awful. At least he didn’t suffer.”

No. It can’t be. You got it wrong. Scott summoned every last ounce of his will, and when a hazy light opened up in his field of vision, he tried even harder until two blurry figures appeared. They were standing directly over him, wearing white gowns and surgical face shields. They were doing something to him, but he couldn’t see what it was.

“Oh, my God,” one of them exclaimed. “His eyes just opened.”

The other person laughed. “It’s just a reflex. It happens all the time.”

“That freaked me out.”

“You get used to it. Hand me a scalpel, would you.”

Wait. DON’T!

The blade made a soft crackling sound as it cut through cold flesh. There was no blood, but when the skin was pulled back it was red inside. The surgeon was handed an instrument that resembled a sturdy pair of scissors which crunched like splintering bone, and when it stopped, a breastplate had been removed.

This can’t be happening! Why are you doing this to me?

The knife that was used next made wet squelching sounds. After several moments, the physician came away holding a large reddish-brown organ.

“Besides the liver, what else are we harvesting from the donor?”

“The corneas and temporal bones.”

“Temporal bone? That’s unusual.”

“Yeah. It’s for research. The donor’s family has a history of inner ear disorders. So, let’s each harvest a cornea, and then I’ll show you how to extract the temporal bone?”

“Gladly. It feels like he’s watching us. It’s creeping me out.

No no no no.Scott’s eyelids were held open as a pair of steel blades descended, closer and closer, toward his eyes. Then, everything went black. Scott had only one sense remaining, and a couple moments later, there was a piercing crunching sound followed by terminal silence.

---

Paul Lonardo is a freelance writer and author who has published numerous titles, both fiction and nonfiction books. Paul has placed short fiction and nonfiction articles in various genre magazines and ezines. He is a contributing writer for Tales from the Moonlit Path and an active HWA member.