The Patient
By: Sean

Richard was awoken by the sound of the breakfast carts in the hall. The first thing that he saw when he opened his eyes was the sunlight pouring in thru the metal grate over the window. Richard blinked, pondering the grate. So he was really here.

Richard climbed out of bed and found his clothes in the closet cupboard. He dressed himself. His jeans were a little too loose, because they had taken his belt away from him. Richard hadn't been listed as a suicide risk, but others on the ward might get hold of the belt. So his belt was elsewhere, stored in the plastic box where Richard had had to leave most of his belongings when he had been checked into the ward late yesterday afternoon.

A short, pudgy, middle-aged woman wearing a blue food service uniform and a hairnet entered the room with a tray covered with a plastic lid. "Good morning!" she said in a kind voice, putting the tray on Richard's table.

"Okay for me to take this to the dayroom?" asked Richard.

"Sure thing," said the woman.

Richard carried his tray down the hall to the dayroom at the end of the hall, where a number of the other patients were already seated. As Richard entered the room, he was approached by a squint-eyed, grey-haired, scruffy-faced man who moved and stood right in front of Richard, glaring at him with rage even tho Richard had never met him before.

"Were you in Korea?" demanded the man.

"No," said Richard.

"Were you in Vietnam?" asked the man more loudly.

"No," said Richard again.

"Are you going to be in the THIRD WORLD WAR?" shouted the old man into Richard's face.

Richard did not know what answer was expected, so he lamely responded, "I hope not." Richard made no sudden moves, but he was tense and alert, holding his tray; the man looked as if he might attack at any moment.

At that point, one of the white-uniformed orderlies said, "Sit down, Spikey." Richard moved past the glaring Spikey and sat down at a table, glad that this encounter was over. Richard could hold his own in a fight, but god only knows what one of these crazy people might do, he thought.

Removing the lid on the tray, he found lukewarm French toast, a plastic cup of syrup, sausage links, a bowl of canned mixed fruit, and a foil-lidded cup of orange juice. The only utensil was a plastic spoon (no sharp objects permitted on the ward). Richard cut the French toast as well as the spoon allowed. He chewed at his breakfast without much interest, alternately watching the morning news program on the television mounted near the ceiling, and checking out the other patients in the room.

Richard had never really given much thought to what a truly clinically insane person might look like. Richard was a bit surprised that some of the patients looked entirely normal to him; he would not have given them a second glance on the street. But others showed obvious signs of being disturbed. There was one fellow in a hospital gown who obviously paid as little attention to his hair and grooming as he did to his breakfast, staring instead at a spot on the wall. Another man, seated in the corner, argued periodically with an unseen person. The patient Spikey took to stabbing his French toast with the handle of his plastic spoon and muttering obscenities.

After breakfast, an orderly unlocked the balcony to allow the patients who smoked to have a cigarette. The balcony was surrounded by chain link on all sides to prevent anyone from trying to jump; but despite the feeling of imprisonment, Richard welcomed the opportunity for a smoke, having been in bad need of a cigarette since waking.

Presently came the time for Richard's appointment with his new doctor. Two orderlies escorted Richard off the locked ward and across the courtyard to the physicians' building, where Richard had to wait a long time on one of the bright orange plastic chairs, flanked by the bored orderlies. Finally, a young man neatly dressed in a shirt and tie appeared. "Richard Halgreen?" he said.

"Yes, that's me," said Richard, standing and offering his hand to the young man. He figured this was some young office worker coming to take care of more paperwork.

"I'm Dr. Clay," said the young man, shaking Richard's hand.

Richard was silent for a moment as he adjusted to this new information. This young fellow was a doctor? Geez, I am getting old, thought Richard, who was still in his thirties. "Pleased to meet you," said Richard.

"Come into my office," said Dr. Clay. To the orderlies, Dr. Clay said, "You can come back for him in an hour." Richard followed Dr. Clay into his office. Dr. Clay closed the door, motioned for Richard to take a seat, and sat down at his own desk.

"So," said Dr. Clay, looking down at the open folder on his desk, and getting right to the point. "I understand that you set fire to a medical research clinic."

"Yes," said Richard.

Dr. Clay leaned back in his chair. "I've read what it says here in your file; but I wonder if you'd care to tell me yourself what led you to do that."

"I guess I must be nuts; that's the only possible explanation," said Richard sarcastically.

Dr. Clay smiled mildly. "Well, we'll see," he said. "Do you think you're nuts?"

"No," said Richard. "But I can see why you'd think so."

Dr. Clay grimaced and shook his head slightly, not in disagreement, but to show that this assessment was to be expected. "Monsters that eat people-- surely you must realize that they don't exist." Dr. Clay did not speak his thought that the monsters represented something in Richard's unconscious.

"They weren't 'monsters'," scoffed Richard. How easily the story had already gotten distorted. "It was men."

"I thought that the men were the ones getting eaten," said Dr. Clay mildly.

"No, it was men that ate men," said Richard, knowing full well how crazy this sounded.

"Like-- like cannibals, you mean?"

"No, not like that- I mean they opened their mouths really big and just swallowed them alive."

Dr. Clay paused, turning that nearly incomprehensible image over in his mind. "But surely you realize a man can't possibly open his mouth that big," he said.

"I wouldn't believe it either, if I hadn't seen it for myself," said Richard obstinately.

Dr. Clay paused, tapping his fingers together, as if pondering how to proceed. "Why don't you just tell me the whole story of what you thought you saw, right from the beginning."

Richard nodded. He took a moment to collect his thoughts, and began.

"I do HVAC work- you know, heating, ventilation, and air conditioning. I've been working at the Hayes Clinic for, oh, about three years now. No, it's four years; I remember because I bought my pickup truck at the same time I started, and I just paid it off last month.

"The first time I had any idea something was the matter was one day a few months back when I was back behind the building working on the air conditioning, because all the external units are back there. This old white delivery truck pulled up at the loading dock, and some guys moved this big crate off the truck and onto the dock. I didn't think anything of it, because they get deliveries there all the time.

"But then there was something really strange: over the sound of the air handlers, I thought I heard someone calling for help. Before I could find out where it was coming from, the guys came back and moved the crate into the building. I didn't hear anything else after that. It was like someone was in the crate; but that didn't make no sense, so I thought I just imagined it and went back to what I was doing. Everything was normal for a couple more weeks.

"I knew who everybody was, of the folks who worked there. A couple of the scientists were young guys; as young as you, even. I knew who they were, but of course they never paid me the least bit of attention-- those scientist guys can be like that. I doubt they even noticed I was working there. They wouldn't ever have anything to say to me unless something went wrong with the HVAC system, and then it's nothing but complaints.

"Well, we had a lot of construction going on, and I was spending a lot of my time in the crawl spaces between the floors-- you know, where all the ducts and stuff are. A bunch of the ceiling tiles were out. A lot of times, I could see what was going on in the rooms down below, but I never paid much attention.

"One day, I saw those two young scientist guys I told you about. I was looking down from the ceiling. Not meaning to spy, you know; but I just happened to see them. They were standing and looking at the screen on one of the VCR players. The screen was at an angle so that I couldn't see it very well, but I could see enough; it was a pretty big TV. It caught my attention because there was this naked guy on the screen. I thought: what, are these two idiots watching porn flicks on the job, or something? But the naked guy was just sitting there on the floor. It didn't make a lot of sense.

"Then, on the screen, someone else came in; I could see this big sonofabitch go into the room. That guy had a lot of muscle, and he had a moustache; he reminded me of a Marine or something. He was buck naked too, and he was a lot bigger than the guy who had been just sitting there. The little guy was looking up, kind of scared and confused, like. And then the big guy reached down and lifted the little guy up by this shoulders so that they were both standing. The big guy was a lot taller and built a lot bigger.

"And then..." Richard's voice trailed off. He had already told the story at least five times, to the police, to the social worker, to the court-appointed psychiatrist, and so on. But once again, he found that he was unable to continue. He looked down at his hands, gazing blankly at the yellow cigarette stain between his fingers.

"Go on," murmured Dr. Clay.

"The big guy leaned down over the little guy-- and I couldn't believe what I was seeing, but the big guy opened his mouth just huge. I never saw anyone open his mouth so big. It was like he could fucking unhinge his jaw, or something. And he just took the little guy's head in his mouth. You could see the little guy fighting it, but he was no match.

"So the big guy just ate him. You could see how his mouth got bigger when he ate the little guy's shoulders. He was leaning more and more over the little guy, the more of him he took in. The little guy was kicking all around, and you could see the big guy using his arms to try to hold him still.

"The big guy got down about halfway to the little guy's waist, and then he grabbed the little guy by his legs and swung him up into the air. I mean, that fucker was built-- you could see the muscle in his arms when he picked the other guy up like that. Not someone you'd want to mess with. So the little guy was kicking his legs all around in the air, but the big guy just kept gulping him down. You could see how his throat was working, just like if you were chugging a beer.

"So pretty soon the big guy ate enough of the guy's legs that he really couldn't kick any more. It didn't take very long after that for the big guy to finish him off. I saw him take in the little guy's feet, and then he just swallowed, and then the little guy was gone.

"The big guy just stood there for a minute, rubbing his gut. You could see how he had this bulge there-- that's all there was to show what happened to that poor guy. And-- if you can believe this-- the big guy had a hard-on. That fucker was getting off on eating that little guy! Then the big guy walked off camera, and all you could see was the empty room."

Richard fell silent, staring at Dr. Clay's desk. Dr. Clay said nothing for a respectful interval. Presently he asked, "Is it possible that the two scientists were just watching a movie? You know, things like that do happen in movies."

"Oh, no," said Richard. "It wasn't like that. I know the room where it happened; it's right there in the building. It's got one of those mirrors where you can see thru from the other side. Hell, I've been in that same room, doing duct work." Richard shuddered.

"I see," said Dr. Clay. "What were the scientists doing while they watched the tape?"

"Well, first time, they just watched it, and didn't say much. But then they were backing up the tape and pointing at the screen and discussing it. I mean, I couldn't believe it; there's that poor guy fighting for his life, and those scientist guys were there just calmly talking about all this scientific shit like it was no big deal."

"So is this why you set fire to the clinic?"

"Well, partly; but I saw a whole lot more before I set the fire."

"What else did you see?"

Richard said nothing for a moment and looked at his hands again. "I can't talk about it any more right now," he said.

"That's fine," said Dr. Clay, changing the subject. He spent the rest of the hour asking Richard about other subjects. He learned that Richard had never been treated for mental illness before, and that he had no history of drug use, other than beer and an occasional joint. He asked Richard a few questions about his family history. When the hour was up, the orderlies escorted Richard back to the ward.

Alone in his office, Dr. Clay wrote notes from his first meeting with his new patient, Richard Halgreen. In his terse, clinical jargon, he wrote of Richard's systematized paranoid delusional fantasies and persecution complex, and the homoerotic content in his imaginations. At the bottom of the notes, he wrote: "Prelim. diagnosis: Paranoid Schiz."

---------------------

Richard was awoken that night by the sound of someone frantically screaming. Alarmed, Richard stood and went out into the hall of the ward to investigate.

The hall was dimly lit at this time of night. Richard could hear nothing but his own heartbeat. After a few moments of silence, the screaming started again. The howls were as frantic as if someone were being killed. Moving down the hall, Richard found the closed door behind which the screaming was happening.

Uncertain what to do, Richard took note of the room number and made his way up the hall to the nurses' station. A bored-looking, white-uniformed woman was sitting behind the desk, reading a magazine. She looked up as Richard approached. "Yes?" she said.

"There's someone screaming in room 408," said Richard.

"Oh, that's just Marvin," said the nurse, waving it away. "He screams all the time."

Richard paused. "Don't you think someone should check to make sure he's all right?"

"People scream in the night here all the time," said the nurse. "Go back to bed, Mr. Halgreen."

Richard said nothing more and returned to his bed. The screams started and stopped several more times. Richard lay on his back, wide awake. How had he gotten himself into this? For a moment, Richard wondered if he really were crazy. But no, no, he reassured himself again that he had seen what he had seen.

A heavy depression came over Richard, because he realized that nobody was ever going to believe his story. If none of this had ever happened, Richard might be driving home in his pickup right now after a satisfying night of pool and beer with his buddies. Richard found himself blinking back hot tears of anger; but then he successfully controlled them by gritting his teeth and reminding himself that a man doesn't cry. It wouldn't be quite as hard to bear if they'd just let him have a smoke.

---------------------

"So you said that you saw more," said Dr. Clay. He and his patient were again seated in his office, and the morning sunlight slanted in thru the open windowshades, making stripes of light and shadow on the floor.

"Yeah," said Richard. "Well, I admit it; I started spying after I saw that video."

"So what did you find?"

"Well, I poked around in one of the scientist's offices when I was there late in the evening, when they weren't working. I found this brown envelope, and I knew it had X-rays in it; I knew because I had seen the same kind of envelope at the doctor's, back when I broke my collarbone a long time ago. I pulled them out and held them up to the light.

"I saw that it was a whole series of X-rays. It was easy to see what the first one was: it was a guy all curled up in another man's stomach. I mean, it was just two skeletons in the X-ray, but it was easy to see that the big guy had just eaten the little guy. That one was labeled 'O hr. 15 min.' The next one wasn't much different; it said '1 hr. 0 min.'

"As I got further down the stack, the bones in the guy's stomach stopped looking so much like a curled-up person, and more like just a jumble of bones, because I guess all his muscle and stuff was getting digested. And then in the later pictures, only the bigger bones were left, and you could tell they were getting smaller. When I got to the last X-ray, the one that said '24 hr. 0 min', there was nothing left; there was just an ordinary X-ray of the bigger guy. That poor little guy was totally digested."

"Very interesting," said Dr. Clay, impressed at the amount of detail and order in his patient's delusional fantasies. So many of Dr. Clay's patients had a wreckage of unconnected, mutually incompatible beliefs; but Richard's delusional belief system was quite coherent and consistent. "So what else did you see?"

"Well, another thing that I noticed around that time was that there were an awful lot of military guys around the clinic. That was something new. A lot of the guys were officers, but there were some ordinary soldiers that didn't rank so high; and some of those guys were just huge. It's like they were picking the tallest, biggest soldiers for their god damned study.

"Anyway, I was out near the front entrance one day working on something, and this great big guy in a Marine jacket walked by on his way into the building. He glanced at me and kinda grinned, and I just froze, because I knew who it was. It was that sonofabitch in the video I saw.

"He just passed me on by and didn't say anything; he looked and walked real cocky, like. And I'm there thinking, that fucker ATE a guy! And then I was thinking, what the hell is he about to do in there? Where is he going?"

"So I thought, I've got to check this out. My heart was pounding, but I had to see what was happening. So I went and got up in the ceiling duct area to see what I could find out.

"I finally found where that Marine guy was. He was in one of the clinical rooms, and a couple of the scientists were there, examining him. He was stripped down to his underwear and was lying down, and he had all kinds of wires stuck to him on little pads, kinda like when they check your heart for a heart attack-- you know? I could tell this exam was going to go on for a while, because the scientist guys were just sort of shooting the breeze with him, telling him how much they appreciated his help in this important study and all that. He just smiled and said, 'My pleasure'.

"So then I crawled on over to the observation rooms, because I had a real bad feeling about what was about to happen. I lifted the corner of one of the tiles, and sure enough, there was this kid, maybe 20 years old or so, all stripped naked and sitting there in the room looking all confused.

"I called down to him in a low voice and asked him what was going on. He jumped because he was scared when he heard me, but he stood up and looked up to where I was. He said his name was Ryan, and he was begging me to get him out of there, but I asked him what had happened. He said he had just been skateboarding by himself, waiting for his buddies to show up; and all of a sudden these three big guys just jumped out and grabbed him and shoved him in a big van, and tied him up and gagged him. Then they stuffed him in a big wooden crate. He could tell that they drove for a really long ways, a few hours at least; and finally he felt the crate being carried as they unloaded it from the van. Then they let him out of the crate, but they had guys all around him to guard him; and they stripped him naked, and someone examined him, listening to his heart with a stethescope and photographing him and weighing him and all. They wouldn't answer any of his questions; they just ignored him and told him to shut up. Then they took him to the room he was in now.

"I was trying to figure out how I could rescue the kid, but right then I heard someone coming, so I told the kid to be quiet and not give me away.

"As soon as the door opened, I knew that kid was a goner, because the Marine guy walked into the room, stripped naked like he was before. I could see him clearly- he had this cocky grin on his face, and he walked right up to the kid Ryan in this real intimidating way. I was thinking, 'What a bully!' I mean, it wasn't a fair fight at all. Ryan was this skinny skateboard kid, decently put together, but not a whole lot of muscle. And there was this big motherfucker, at least a foot taller and a good bit older, built like a fucking linebacker or something; real hairy guy.

"So Ryan, he squeaked out, 'What the hell's going on, man?' And the marine guy put his big hands down on Ryan's shoulders and looked down at him and said, 'You're going to do your country a great service today, boy!'

"So then the marine guy-- it's just like he unhinged his jaws or something. You ever see a snake eat a frog? It was like that, except it was a man, a man swallowing another guy, you know. I could see Ryan looking up with this totally blank expression when the marine guy opened his mouth real big; but before Ryan could even react, the marine guy just glommed down on his whole head. The kid started to fight, but the marine had him in this rough bear hug. It was awful. I could hear the kid yelling, real muffled like, inside the soldier's mouth. He was kicking and fighting, but the soldier just kept swallowing him.

"I mean, it was awful, but it was pretty impressive, too. I couldn't believe how big the soldier guy opened his mouth to take in the kid's shoulders. I couldn't exactly see his mouth because I was watching from above; I most just saw the top of the soldier's head. But I could see how more and more of the kid was getting taken in, no matter how much he fought.

"When the soldier got down to the kid's waist, he tilted his head back again like before. I was scared for a moment 'cause I thought he might see me; but I was in the dark and in the other direction, and the guy had his eyes closed like he was really enjoying it. So he never saw me.

"So I just watched while he ate the kid's ass, and then gulped down the legs. The kid was still trying to kick, but pretty soon he was so far inside the marine's mouth that he couldn't even kick any more, poor guy. Soon I could just see his feet. And then the marine ate the kid's feet too. I could see that fucker swallow him; you could see the kid slide down inside the guy and make his hairy stomach bulge out some. The guy just belched real loud and rubbed his belly; real cocky look on his face. And he had a hard-on again, like before. He just stood there a little, rubbing his gut, and then he walked out of the room.

"That poor kid," concluded Richard. "He's gone now; that marine guy digested him. I couldn't do nothing to help him." Then Richard fell silent.

After a respectful pause, Dr. Clay said, "It's a remarkable story."

Richard had been looking down with a sad, meditative expression, but he looked up now with a snarl. "And you don't believe a word of it, do you. What do you care if there are other young guys over there getting swallowed right now? That kid got digested alive, and what the fuck do you care?"

Dr. Clay held up both hands. "Please," he said. "I know it seems very real to you." He considered. "So what did you do after that?"

Richard composed himself, gritting his teeth. "I kept spying for a while longer, and from overhearing parts of conversations and looking in files and stuff, I was starting to figure out that the military was paying to have this developed," said Richard. "They kept talking about the 'Play-Dough'. I guess that was kind of a joke. I think that was what they called the gray stuff that they had the solders eat so that they could do this.

"I realized that this was just the beginning; that a lot more guys were going to get eaten if the military started using this in a big way. But who could I go to? If I went to the cops, they'd think I was nuts; and anyway, if they asked the clinic staff about it, I'd just get locked up, or maybe rubbed out by the Feds so that I couldn't squeal. So I knew it was up to me to stop it, because nobody else would ever believe it.

"So what else could I do? I got some plastic jugs full of gasoline and brought them in; and I was going to pour it all over the building and light it on fire. I poured out just the first jug before I got caught, and the security guys tackled me. I never had a chance to start the fire. And you know the rest, how I ended up here."

Dr. Clay looked at his patient, pondering. At this point, it would be of no use to argue with him or try to convince him that his delusional fantasies could not possibly be true. But this was an impressive case in some ways; it was unusual for a delusional fantasy to be so coherent and consistent. That might make the mental illness all the harder to treat. This would almost be a case worth writing up for an article.

-------------------

Late that night, Richard stood awake in his darkened room on the ward, looking out the window thru the metal grate, thinking about his situation, and thinking of the even more awful situation that some young men might be in over at the Hayes clinic right now. Perhaps some poor young guy was getting swallowed alive over there right now; and here was Richard, unable to do anything about it. Richard exhaled, wishing again for a cigarette; but it would be morning before they'd let him have another.

Richard had been staring at the same view outside the window for some time now. There was a dumpster and a lamp post, a few parked cars, and then some trees. The lights of the town were half visible between the trees, full of the promise of bars with pool tables, of freedom, of all the things Richard had had taken away from him. A dog wandered into the pool of light beneath the lamp post, sniffed at the dumpster, and continued on his way. Richard felt a strange spasm of anger at the dog's freedom; here he was, a grown man, locked up. What right did a plain old mutt have to be free when Richard was in such a fix?

Just as Richard was thinking this, the light from the hall was abruptly darkened. In the reflection in the window, Richard saw the silhouette of a very large man in the doorway. Richard turned, and recognized the man; he was a new orderly on the ward, a large muscular man, bearded and dark-haired. Richard had not previously paid him much attention, other than to notice what a big guy he was. To Richard's surprise, the orderly closed the door, shutting himself and Richard inside the room together.

"What's going on?" said Richard, puzzled, and feeling a strange sense of dread.

The orderly walked slowly over to Richard. He was taller than Richard, and Richard looked up into his face. In the light from the lamp-post outside, Richard could see the huge man smile. Even tho the light was filtered thru the metal grate, Richard could see the man's face quite clearly. "Remember me, Mr. Halgreen?" said the man in his deep voice.

That voice sounded familiar. A moment later, all of the blood drained from Richard's face; his hair felt as if it were standing on end, and and his guts seems to have changed to water. He knew who the orderly was. Despite the new beard, it was unmistakeably the marine who Richard had seen swallow two young men. "You!" said Richard in a hoarse whisper. Richard was no coward, but he backed away against the metal grate.

"Yes, Richard," said the marine, pulling the white orderly shirt off over his head, exposing his muscular, hairy chest and arms. "And you know why I'm here, don't you."

"For God's sake, don't do it to me too," said Richard, trembling. He remembered only too well what this hulking man had done to the two young men. Richard felt his heart hammering. "You know it's wrong."

"It's not wrong, no," said the marine in his deep, gravelly voice. "It's for the good of the country. You should understand that." The huge man scratched his hairy abdomen. "And if you had just minded your own business, I wouldn't have to do this to you. Not that you've given us away, because I don't think anybody you've talked to so far is going believe you. But we can't have you making any more trouble. So they sent me to take care of you; and it will be my pleasure."

"No fucking way," said Richard. At that moment, the marine took hold of Richard's white t-shirt and started pulling it off of him. "Help!" screamed Richard, struggling in the marine's grasp as the larger man stripped him. Richard shouted himself hoarse as the marine forcibly removed Richard's t-shirt and then his slip-on ward shoes (no laces allowed, since they could be used as a noose), jeans, and underwear. Richard was soon stripped naked, still yelling and struggling in the half-naked marine's grasp. Richard was a tough man, but not nearly as large or tough as this marine.

Richard could not understand at first why nobody was responding to his yelling and screaming; but then he remembered his experience when he had told the nurse about his neighbor's screaming. Richard realized he was on his own. He tried to fight. He jabbed an elbow into the marine's side and bit the larger man's arm; but the marine responded by punching Richard in the gut. Richard collapsed on the floor, doubled-up and momentarily unable to breathe.

The huge marine stood over Richard. He hooked his large hands under Richard's armpits and lifted him up. Richard looked up to see the same eager, cocky look on the marine's face that he had seen before. There was a hungry gleam in the marine's eyes. As he lifted Richard closer to his face, his bearded mouth started to open. Richard trembled and kicked, but the mouth just opened wider and wider, totally dark inside. Richard was lifted by the marine's muscular arms, higher and closer, until the mouth filled his whole view. The next thing Richard knew, the marine had taken his whole head in his mouth.

Richard felt the bearded man take a deep breath and hold it. He felt the mouth swallowing around his head, pulling him into the marine's throat. The marine slid his hands down from Richard's armpits to his waist, lifting him further into his mouth. Richard was swinging his arms and legs and managed to get a few punches in on the marine's hairy chest; but the marine was tough and did not lose his composure, and just kept swallowing Richard until the hospital patient was too far inside to use his arms any more.

The marine grunted as he slowly gulped his way down to Richard's waist. At this point, Richard felt the gravity shift as the marine tilted his head back, hoisting Richard's legs up into the air. Gravity could now help some, and it was more of a straight shot down the marine's throat to his stomach. The marine reached his strong arms up and lightly held Richard's legs to keep them from kicking too much, but most of the work was being done now by his throat, which visibly worked as he gulped Richard down.

The huge man ate Richard down to his knees, and then to his feet. Richard's kicking was gradually stopped by the marine's mouth, but the marine could still feel him struggling in his throat. Richard felt his feet being drawn inside as well, but he could not see the marine's grim smile as the bearded mouth closed, his white teeth closing like a gate.

The marine swallowed Richard the rest of the way down in one gulp. Richard felt himself being pushed thru the tight opening into the marine's stomach; and he felt himself being curled up as the powerful throat muscles forced him into the tight space. Richard squirmed and struggled, but he was trapped. A few minutes ago, the hospital ward had seemed like an intolerable imprisonment; but the ward seemed like a world of freedom compared to the confinement Richard was in now. The stomach walls were smooth and strong, and the whole stomach was dark and humid. It was getting more and more moist as the marine's digestive process started to kick in, and the enzymes entered the marine's stomach to take care of Richard.

With the patient no longer in his throat, the marine resumed his breathing. He belched, scratched his hairy gut, and kicked back on Richard's bed. It felt fucking great to be this full, he thought, and it also felt great to show his prowess and strength over another man by swallowing him. The marine was still wearing the white orderly pants; the elastic was somewhat stretched from his now bulging gut, and the crotch was tented out by the marine's erection. The huge man stroked the black, coarse beard which he had grown as a disguise. It would be at least five hours until sunrise, so the marine could just relax and enjoy digesting Richard for a while.

Richard struggled some more and gave a few yells inside the tight, cramped space he was in, but as he ran out of air, he started losing his concentration and getting sleepy. He knew he was done for. "You bastard," he growled; but there was nothing he could do to save himself.

The marine felt his meal's struggles gradually die down. For once, there were no X-rays or tests; he could just relax and enjoy the nice full feeling of having a whole man in his stomach. The marine licked his chops. Richard had had a somewhat different taste from the others. The "test subjects" the marine had eaten before had all been young men in their late teens or early twenties; but Richard was in his thirties, and had a somewhat deeper, tougher taste than the young men had.

The marine slowly digested Richard. As the sky started to show a pale light thru the metal grating, the marine pulled his orderly's shirt back on over his still somewhat distended belly. He gathered up Richard's clothes and took them with him as he clocked out and left the still sleeping ward, discarding the clothes at a different dumpster several blocks away.

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It was the woman who brought the breakfast cart around who first noticed that Richard was not in his room. She told the head nurse, and the whole ward was searched. Soon the grounds were being searched, and the police were notified that an insane, dangerous man was at large, and that he might attempt arson again.

An officer at the city police department phoned the security department at the Hayes Clinic to give notification of Richard's escape. Strangely, the head of security at the clinic seemed unconcerned, almost as if he had been expecting this. The city policeman was puzzled, but then shrugged as he hung up the phone; it wasn't his fault if the clinic didn't take his warning seriously.

The large, bearded new orderly on the ward gave notice a few days later that this kind of work didn't appeal to him after all. It was enough days after Mr. Halgreen's escape that nobody connected the two events. The head of the staff on the ward had mixed feeling about seeing that new orderly leave. A strong fellow like that was useful for keeping the sometimes violent patients in order. But there was something vaguely disturbing about him; he had an odd way of looking at the head of staff with an almost hungry gaze. The orderly seemed to always scratch his belly when he looked that way at the head of staff; but the head of staff had the good fortune of never finding out anything else about this odd mannerism of the former orderly.

The patient who was reported as escaped, Richard Halgreen, was never found. Nobody thought to look inside the muscular, hairy marine, where Richard's matter took a slow and circuitous trip thru the marine's labyrinthine intestines, slowly to be absorbed into the marine's hulking, manly body. The marine's muscular arms, legs, and chest all got a little stronger from this most recent man he had eaten, and his hairy balls hung just a little heavier and prouder than before.

As for the marine, he returned to the Hayes Clinic, welcoming the opportunity to help continue their research for as long as there continued to be tasty men for him to swallow alive. The first couple of guys they had given him to eat had been young new navy recruits; but since it was a hassle to keep on coming up with plausible explainations for their disappearances, the clinic had soon switched to kidnapping young civilian guys from other towns to feed to him. The civilians seemed to taste even better, the marine thought. He loved the feeling of power over the young men he ate; they were all his to consume for his own masculine satisfaction, as well as for the good of the country. Damn, was he ever glad he had been given this assignment. And if the research ever ended, he'd just find his meals on his own. He wouldn't mind at all, because he was a born predator, and the hunt and capture of another man would just make the meal that much more satisfying.

--END--

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