"What a waste, I thought, should Fido die so simply! A wonderful scouting dog and loyal companion I couldn't part with. But no matter—he remains loyally by my side. Oh! What splendors this life beholds, to teach me taxidermy!" Dr. Sotto Voce
Senkath flinches, slightly bemused, as the world around him spun fervently. Dressed carcasses dot the stuffy room, an assortment of growling lions, panthers, elk, the occasional stiff wooden body of a puppet-in-making. Life is a vivid tornado of sage and mahogany and sepia, dancing wildly in his eyes.
A flash of irritable pain flashes through his eyes and before him appears a burly man, muscularly built but plump around the edges, tall, a loose trail of salt-and-pepper hair scattering across a balding scalp. His meaty fingers hang inches from Senkath's forehead. A joyous, content smile stretches under his small button nose as he peers into deep pools of hazel.
"Well? Did it work?"
The colors settle into their respective positions—golden hints of brown stretching across the lion's mane, the touch of mahogany painted on elk fur, the glassy sage texture of the marbled panther eyes. Senkath blinks, a relapse of relief washing over him as he glances around.
No matter how many times he showed up at the doctor's house, he was always entranced by the discomfiting decorations embellished in a gaudy yet respectable manner. He was in the private office today, the innermost room, a warm stuffy enclosure devoid of windows, surrounded by fleecy brown walls and lined with the caricatures of fallen beasts plated with metallic tombstones layered in a fine print of dust. On the other side of the room, visible by means of a sliding glass door, a collection of puppets hang limply, their smoothened wood and horribly painted faces dangling like the vulgar deceased.
He looks directly ahead at the pompous man, hearing the slight wheeze of his breath as he inhaled, his chest inflating like the ruby tomato hints on his cheeks. The man beams as if he'd performed a miracle as he waits, patiently awaiting praise. He prods on.
"Well, Senkath? Did it work?"
Senkath scrunches his nose, recalcitrant and obdurate, unwilling to concede.
"Mr. Kodimala, if you please. And yes, the ailment seems to have proven effective, if only palliative in my situation."
The doctor ponders for a bit, a finger drifting across his whiskers.
"Well then! That's quite fortunate of you, now is it?" he squeaks excitedly, jotting down quick marks on a nearby sheet of parchment. He mutters softly while he scribbles. "Muscle relaxant as a treatment for delusion - 50 milligrams has produced no immediate side effects."
"Wait a second." Dr. Sotto Voce swivels his head in Senkath's direction, pondering aimlessly, dissecting with stern eyes as if seeking another ailment. "Did you put muscle relaxant into my body?"
"Why of course! What did you expect when agreeing to a revolutionary new idea of mine?"
Senkath stares, dumbfounded. Thoughts rush through his head about the perplexity of the man before him: a giant figure with a soft, timid voice; a burly lumberjack with a brilliant scientific mind; a doctor yet also a taxidermist by trade...
The doctor continues with his quiet, warm timbre.
"Galvanism, perhaps? That was more of your domain, I believe, back when you still pursued the intellectual arts. But no matter—the human body is sufficiently simple, so mammalian in nature, just like the friends dotted across my walls!"
ESTÁ A LER
Because I Love You ~
Romance21-year-old schizophrenic Senkath Kodimala has his life turned around when he meets the charming woman of his dreams. Amidst the chaos of xenophobia, crime, and drama lurking within the gray clouds of the city, he must figure out whether the woman t...
