Bitch

Chapter Three: The Procedure

After Marilyn's breakfast of man milk and scraps of toast, she found herself in the trunk of Alistair's car for what he had called a field trip. The look of mischief on his face had been disquieting to say the least and she only hoped she wouldn't suffer the same fate as Mutt.

Alistair only used the limo for special occasions like the auction the night before, this time opting to drive his old beaten up Ford. It was an inconspicuous silver four door car with no distinguishable stickers or markings save for a sizable dent in the passenger side of the front fender. It gave him plenty of trunk space for his needs and got him from point A to point B without too much of a fuss, or too much attention.

The drive to his friend's house, or rather cabin, wasn't terribly long. They both lived in the boonies on the outskirts of town and were about as close to neighbors as anyone out there was. Within 25 minutes he was pulling into Dr. William Frank's smoothly paved circular driveway, parking behind the doc's much nicer black Buick.

His tall blonde friend stood on the porch of his quiant looking home, smiling warmly as he watched Alistair climb out of the car.

"Doc! Always good to see you. I know I'm late, and I know I'm always late but cut me some slack this once?" Alistair called cheerily across the driveway, closing the driver side door and rounding to the back of the car.

"Yeah, yeah, I cut you slack this once and you'll think being late is acceptable." Dr. Frank shot back with a smirk as he joined Alistair at the trunk of the Ford.

"Oh come on, I brought you your favorite.~" Alistair beamed, excitement written all over his face as he popped open the trunk with a grandiose bow.

Marilyn had curled up on the floor of the trunk, her back pressed into the far wall. She jumped as the light suddenly blinded her after spending nearly half an hour in pitch black, her eyes squinting and blinking as her hands shot up to shield them. Before she had regained her full range of vision, she felt Alistair's hand in her hair, his fingers twisting it painfully before yanking her towards the mouth of the trunk.

Alistair grinned as he pulled Marilyn up to her knees, forcing her head back to look up at Dr. Frank. He gave his old friend a knowing look of satisfaction before saying, "And yes, you can have both of them."

With now equal excitement, Dr. Frank returned the wicked smile. "Consider your late fee waived, Al."

Marilyn had no clue what the hell either one of them was talking about but she knew for sure it was nothing good. Against her wishes, her lower lip started to quiver. Fresh hot tears welled up in her eyes and her nails dug into the palms of her hands. She'd never felt so hopeless and utterly defeated in her life.

"You better take them before I change my mind, doc." Alistair said with a boisterous laugh. With a firm yank on Marilyn's hair, he pulled her completely out of the car and started to guide her towards the cabin.

Dr. Frank followed behind with the giddiness of a child on Christmas morning, having already snuck a peak at what presents were awaiting him.

Going inside the cabin was like stepping into a magazine. The whole place felt like a movie set. Not a speck of dust was to be seen anywhere and all of Dr. Frank's furniture was a sort of drab collection of neutral colors. Everything had a place and a function it seemed.

Of course, Marilyn spent very little time eyeing Dr. Frank's neurotic home decor choices. She was busy getting pulled by her hair through the kitchen, then down a set of steps to a dark and cold basement.

Dr. Frank, the caboose of the trio, flicked the lights on as he descended. Bright flourescents illuminated his makeshift operating room- bleached white tile floors with a drain at the center. Above the drain was a metal table, adorned with a pair of leather straps at either end. Next to the table was a small cart that held Dr. Frank's smaller surgical tools.