A cruel twist of fate turns an elderly man's dream invention into a nightmare machine.

WARNING: Here's a story that I had to write for Halloween. Sorry if it horrifies you but it is a horror story after all. Beware!

Haunted by a Promise
by Terry Volkirch

The old man slid his bifocals up his nose and made the final adjustment on his grand new creation. It took nearly his whole life to research and design the complex medical device that sat in his basement, and it took nearly all of his energy to finish building it. It was his dream, his baby, and with it came the promise of immortality. He'd be forever remembered as having invented it and with luck, he'd find donors and use it to start replacing his worn out body. He might not live forever but he could greatly extend and improve the quality of his life. That's all he really cared about.

The machine truly was a marvel. It combined all the latest computer, biosensor and nanotechnology advances to transplant organs and replace body parts. It handled everything including anesthetic, surgery, accelerated healing, scar removal and even the prevention of tissue rejection. It would revolutionize medicine overnight.

He sat in the recipient chair of his device and reminisced. No one had a clue of his brilliance. No one cared. But they'd care when they got a look at his machine. Everyone would be screaming for it.

Old Peter will finally have his 15 minutes of fame, he thought.

Having retired as a drab scientist in a dull laboratory some 20 years ago meant he was long forgotten. Only his medical masterpiece would save him from obscurity, and hopefully do so much more -- if he could get donors soon enough.

The process of getting donors never bothered him but maybe it should've. He never thought through the ethical and moral implications. Science and the unknown drove him to invent his machine so he put his head down and worked. It was the story of his life. He lived not for the sake of living but simply for science and the selfish conceit of using science to extend his life. He should've paid more attention to other things.

Peter sat in his dark basement for close to an hour before he realized he wasn't able to get up. He'd forgotten to take his medicine again. He could create a complex medical device but he couldn't remember to take care of himself. He wasn't concerned though. He knew that the young caregiver gal would eventually come by and rescue him, like she had so many times before.

Fatigue gripped him so he leaned back in his special chair, and just as he nearly dozed off, he puzzled at a strange sound. His head triggered his invention's initialization procedure. The machine injected him with a sedative and securely strapped him in for the ride of his life.

***

Something was wrong. The old man heard a woman shouting. Why was she shouting?

"Wake up, Peter!"

"Huh? Alice?"

"Finally! Yes, it's me. Now will you please get up and get me out of this thing?"

"What?"

Peter struggled but he found himself trapped by his machine. Then he slowly looked over at his caregiver, Alice, and a shiver ran down his spine. She had the same problem, except she happened to be sitting in the donor chair.

He designed his invention to prevent a patient from leaving before completing a medical procedure, and the fact that both of them were strapped in meant that the machine had been fully activated. They were in big trouble.

If only he'd taken the time to install voice recognition, he'd be able to override the system, but he didn't think he'd need it. He certainly didn't plan on testing the machine with his caregiver.

"I can't get up," he complained, his head still foggy from the sedative. "What happened?"

Alice explained that she'd come for her daily visit and got worried when he didn't answer the door. She used her spare key and found him in the basement. After unsuccessfully trying to rouse him, she tried to loosen the straps that held him and found they wouldn't budge. She worked at them for a long time until she got tired and sat down in the other chair. That's when things went wrong.

Before she realized what was happening, the chair clamped down on her wrists and ankles, trapping her. She thought it funny at first until the chair leaned back and various devices poked and prodded her. That's when she started shouting.

"Oh dear," Peter moaned. "What have I done?"

"What have you done?" Alice demanded.

The old man trembled as he explained what his machine did and how it worked, and he couldn't help notice how pale the young woman looked when he'd finished.

"I'm so sorry," he said.

"It's okay," the young woman said with a faint smile. "It's not really your fault." She refused to blame him. All her life, she'd done nothing but devote her life to helping the elderly. She'd sacrificed her social life to help them because it was the only thing she found that gave her life meaning. It was the only way she could cope.

Nearly everything in the world terrified her but when she looked at the elderly, she saw kindred spirits. Too many of them were lonely and scared. They needed a friend and they desperately needed help. So she helped them and forgot about her own fears.

Peter was just one of several people she helped. He seemed very distant but she thought she could sense something good in him, something that tried to escape but couldn't. She thought that if she tried hard enough, perhaps whatever warmth he buried deep inside himself would eventually radiate out and warm them both. He was her special case, her special hope.

"Well ...," he said after a long, awkward silence. "The machine should stop after a single procedure. Hopefully, the worst it'll do is remove one of your kidneys. That wouldn't be so bad. You'll do fine with one kidney."

"Yeah ... sure," she muttered. She knew he meant well but his voice continued to betray him. He could never successfully lie to her, though he sometimes tried.

"Hey," he continued. "It might even stop and not do anything more than a thorough examination." He tried to turn his head to look at the monitor behind him. "I can't tell but it could be in diagnostic mode."

He really couldn't see, and he had no idea how bad things really were. He was just nervous so he continued trying to be optimistic, right up to when the machine made a loud clicking sound and injected a powerful sedative into their thighs. It was the first step to fully anesthetizing them for the upcoming procedure.

"Or not ...," Peter said as he drifted off.

***

The machine had examined both patients. The recipient's body needed virtually everything replaced and the donor was healthy in all respects so it followed protocols to identify target body parts for replacement. Unfortunately, the old retired scientist didn't think to add many safeguards or restrictions. After overcoming the challenge of tissue matching, all status indicators read green and the machine initiated an extensive surgical procedure.

***

Peter awoke to crying. He heard Alice crying and he felt his own eyes tearing up. Fearing the worst, he looked over and confirmed it.

All clothes and accessories had been removed, leaving them naked on the heated chairs. Straps still held them firmly in place, and an extra strap stretched across Alice's waist. The machine added the strap because the young woman had no legs or hips. In their place were several tubes, hoses and pans to collect waste. The machine took great care to keep the donor alive and as healthy as possible.

He looked down at himself and saw her legs and hips attached to his body. It looked and felt strange but he couldn't focus on himself, not when his caregiver needed him.

"Alice," he said in a quiet voice. "Are you okay?"

It was a stupid question but he didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to help. He just knew he had to try. Guilt and shame stabbed at his old heart, forcing him to try.

"I'm so sorry, Alice. Please. Talk to me."

"Why?" she croaked.

"Why what?"

"Why didn't it just take everything? Why leave me like this?!"

She started crying again.

He knew how his machine worked. He designed it to maximize the harvest potential while minimizing the trauma for both the donor and the recipient, but he wasn't sure if he should explain it. He didn't think she really wanted to know anyway.

"I'm really sorry. I promise I'll ...." He didn't know how to finish. He didn't know what to promise. Could he fix the problem? Could he switch chairs with Alice and reverse the procedure? He could if he could get free, but that wasn't possible at the moment.

Alice managed to listen to Peter between sobs. She clung to some small hope that everything would be okay, that he could make her whole again, and she knew he made good on his promises. He always kept his promises. That was one of his best traits.

"Promise what?" she asked, sniffling.

"If we can get free of this infernal machine, I can get it to fix this mess."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. It's holding us now to heal the surgery and remove scar tissue. We should be free in only a few hours."

"A few hours? It can work that fast?"

"Yep, it sure can," he said with a hint of pride.

Alice felt some relief creep in and sighed. Perhaps there was hope after all. Then she thought about what would happen to Peter and cringed.

"Peter? What about you? What happens to you after I get my legs and hips back? What happened to yours?"

She asked a lot of good questions, and he wasn't sure he wanted to answer them. His invention removed and broke down old, useless body parts, recycling what it could and disposing of the rest. He didn't want to tell her all that, but he couldn't ignore her.

"Don't worry about me. I'm old but I'll be okay." He told a little white lie to soften the blow but the normally perceptive young woman didn't catch it. She wasn't exactly in the right frame of mind to be perceptive.

The machine was his responsibility so living without legs and hips was a small price to pay in his mind. He'd need her care even more until he could find donors to patch him up. In spite of all that happened, he still wouldn't give up on extending his life.

If the machine worked like he planned, it should stop after the first surgical procedure and free them both after a few hours of accelerated healing. Unfortunately, things didn't always work out like one hoped they will. The software had a glitch that forced the machine into a repeating cycle. The horror would continue.

The two of them carefully avoided looking at each other, mostly to avoid the embarrassment of their naked bodies, and talked to pass the time until a dreaded click noise announced the beginning of another surgical procedure. Alice didn't know exactly what was happening but Peter did.

No, he thought. Not again.

The machine drugged them and they slipped into a dreamless sleep.

***

The old man woke up first and quickly took stock of himself. The machine had added the woman's abdomen and arms to his body. He was more woman than man.

"No," he whispered. "She won't be able to handle this. I can scarcely believe it myself."

He figured he had a new digestive tract, pancreas and liver in addition to young female reproductive organs and kidneys. He couldn't really call himself a man anymore but he still stubbornly stuck to male pronouns.

While his situation disturbed him, Alice easily had it worse. She only had an upper torso, neck and head left. A single broad strap held her to the chair by her neck but it wasn't necessary. It was clear she wasn't going anywhere.

More tubes and equipment attached to her to keep her alive. Her body would be maintained well enough for more harvesting. The same couldn't be said for her mental state when she woke up.

At the first hint of stirring, Peter called out to her.

"Alice, please stay calm. Please."

She looked confused at first and tried looking down at her body but the strap around her neck mercifully kept her from seeing much.

"What happened?" she asked a little fearfully.

"There was another procedure. I'm sorry but I have your arms now too." He didn't mention the rest and didn't intend to bring it up if he could help it. Losing arms and legs would be bad enough.

Alice sniffled but amazingly, she didn't cry. She felt emotionally drained and still more than a little groggy from the anesthetic. Having so little body mass made it harder to recover and fully wake up.

"I'll make things right," he said. "You'll see."

His words gave her little hope. They registered but she noted an important omission. He didn't promise. He only told her what she wanted to hear, like a parent consoling their child. Every young child needed to hear that everything would be okay, and that's what she'd been reduced to. She was a scared little girl in a house of horrors.

Peter continued assuring her, and she'd occasionally answer with a grunt or a single word. No matter what he did though, he couldn't get her to say any more. He was losing her.

Near the end of the period of accelerated healing, it got harder and harder for the old man to speak, and he ended up trying to convince himself more than her until he ran out of words. He hated watching her slipping away but there was nothing else he could do. The two of them lapsed into a long silence, punctuated only by the occasional beep or hum of the machine that held them captive.

"It's probably just as well," she suddenly said with no emotion. "I've had such a sad existence. I don't deserve to live. It's the universe's way of correcting a mistake."

"Don't say that!" Peter shouted with surprising passion. It certainly surprised him, and it surprised her too. Both of them knew he was normally quite dull. "Everyone deserves to live. Everyone! Don't give up. Please don't give up." A tear trickled down the side of his wrinkled old face and he had to force himself to remain calm. He didn't understand himself anymore.

Alice understood. Peter had most of her body now. With all of her hormones coursing through him, he'd naturally be more emotional. He'd also have other changes to contend with, changes she hoped he could handle. Part of her wanted to discuss it with him in great detail, but mostly she felt too tired to care.

"Just ... just shut up," she finally said.

The two of them kept silent after that, both lost in thought until the machine clicked to release another dose of sedative. As their bodies relaxed and the mental fog rolled in, Alice had a sudden thought that seemed very important to her.

"Please," she moaned, as her eyelids drooped. "Promise me something."

"Yes?"

"Promise me you'll have children."

Her plea shocked the old retired scientist. The possibility of pregnancy hadn't yet occurred to him.

"I'll ... I'll try," he said, not really committing himself. He only meant to say what she wanted to hear but his halfhearted response didn't satisfy her.

With a supreme effort of will, she gathered all of her remaining energy and she screamed at him. She actually managed to scream. For the first time in her life, she broke through her fear to show some real passion.

"Promise me! Please!"

"Okay! I promise. I'll have ... children."

With that said, the young woman smiled and gave in to the drug. She never thought she'd ever have a chance at love and children, but somehow she knew Peter could make it work. He had to. He promised.

The old man had considerably more body mass than Alice after all the transplants so the sedative took longer to affect him. He had a minute or so to think about what he just said. Could he really have children? Would he? He made a promise and he knew he'd have to try to keep it. His parents worked too hard teaching him the importance of keeping his word.

His last thoughts teased him with the image of a full womb while another baby suckled at his breast. It both pleased and disturbed him in equal measures until he too slipped into another dreamless sleep.

***

Peter awoke to the strange sensation of hair brushing against his ears and cheeks. His eyes felt a little sore so he kept them closed while he explored with his other senses. Strong smells assaulted his nose and everything seemed exceptionally loud with no annoying ringing in his ears. He tentatively licked his lips to find them soft, full and very sensitive.

"This is different," he said aloud, testing his voice. As he thought, he had a distinctly feminine voice.

His amazing, horrible machine had obviously worked on his face and he shuddered when he thought of what that meant for Alice. For the first time since his machine came to life, he feared opening his eyes, knowing the sight that awaited him in the donor chair.

He focused on a raspy sound and realized Alice still lived. It was her, breathing, and that made him wonder what she looked like. His imagination wasn't especially good but he knew that only her upper torso and brain were all that were left.

His former caregiver would be left to the cold, cruel mercy of his machine. She was the one requiring care now, but she wouldn't have to suffer for much longer. His own heart and lungs, like the rest of his old body parts, were worn out. His upper body would be replaced with hers. Then the machine would stop, and Alice would be dead.

Peter opened his eyes. It didn't matter because after thinking about it, he knew exactly what he'd see anyway. The added trays, tubes and equipment actually concealed most of the remaining body so it wasn't so bad.

He absently noted that his glasses were gone. They were no longer needed because he had new eyes with perfect vision.

"I know you can't hear me," Peter said, a tear running down his soft, delicate cheek. "But I'm so very sorry." He knew his apology couldn't make a difference to her but he had to say it. He had to apologize over and over again until he could forgive himself, otherwise the guilt would eat him alive.

Sometimes apologies weren't enough though. Sometimes words weren't enough. Such a heinous accident demanded more than mere words.

"I'll keep my promise and I'll be the best mother I can."

He choked down a sob and fought to continue. He had to get it all out before his conscience would let him rest.

"I wish I could've asked you for baby names. I'll ask your parents for advice though. I won't do anything on my own except give your children all the love I have." Then the poor, guilt-ridden man cried until his lovely new eyes had no more tears to give.

After composing himself, he found himself confronted by one last but very important issue. He hadn't cried since he was a child. Science took up so much of his life, he didn't have room for sadness. He didn't have room for much emotion at all, until now. At least this experience, as dreadful as it was, had one good point. It had made him more human. It had also made him a woman.

The former man would live on as a woman. He was now a she, and she really could bear children. It scared her to think about it but she forced herself. She needed to accept her new life and find a way to prepare herself for her new life. Alice's children -- her children -- would depend on it.

Thoughts of children suddenly didn't seem to horrify her as they once had. She found herself remembering herself as a young boy and found a connection she thought was lost. Her inner child had waited for her all this time and it brought yet another tear to her eye.

So many emotions tugged at her old heart. It still had life in it. It still had a chance at redemption for living such a heartless life, even though it wouldn't be long before the machine replaced it.

She felt like she had two people to mourn. Both the real Alice and her old self would be gone. So what did that mean? She felt like she should do something to honor their memory. It certainly wouldn't be right to do nothing. She couldn't face herself in the mirror if she did nothing.

In spite of having no one else to talk to, she continued talking out loud, and she often addressed Alice's remains in the donor chair. She spent the remaining time brainstorming for ideas about memorial services and discussing various beliefs about what happens after we die. It was her way of giving Alice, and herself, some measure of comfort. She just kept talking until the machine clicked one last time.

***

The new young woman shrugged off the last dose of sedative and took a deep breath. She effortlessly sucked in air and let it out without any coughing or discomfort. It felt great. After a few more hours of healing, the machine would release her and she'd be able to get up and leave.

She reflected on the past 24 hours and realized that she'd essentially had a very strange type of brain transplant. She'd had her body swapped out piece by piece from around her brain instead of having her brain inserted into a new body. The thought made her head spin until she thought to look over at the donor chair.

The other chair held one remaining trace of the original Alice sealed in a glass container. It was her brain, or what was left of it. Apparently, the machine had used the more primitive parts of the brain as replacements. Motor skills, emotions, and even gender identity and sexual preference would match what the young caregiver had before her life was stolen from her. The new Alice would have all but the young woman's memories to guide her in her new life. She was now virtually all woman, inside and out.

She took a long, last look at the lifeless brain across from her and strong new emotions flooded her brain. With a sudden whimper, the new Alice looked up and wailed a last good-bye, and then exhausted herself with another long cry. All the surgeries and emotional stress took their toll so she fell into a deep, merciful sleep until the machine finished its job and released her.

***

Alice had what was left of her caregiver's brain cremated and held a private little memorial. She cried yet again but the tears held no shame or guilt, and they didn't last long. It was time to move on.

The machine had to be dismantled. She couldn't leave it, not with its potential for abuse. She took it apart and scattered the pieces among several garbage cans and landfills. No tears marked its passing.

Her last task in her former house was to call in to report the disappearance of her old self. Thanks to the machine's efficient disposal of her worn out male body parts, Peter was never seen again and she was free to go.

Not really considering any other options, she took Alice's place. She felt she owed Alice that much after what happened. The young caregiver's parents didn't deserve to suffer the loss of their daughter. Her new life might be a little difficult but she figured she could blame her apparent strangeness on caregiver stress. It beat returning to her old vocation.

The former scientist vowed to never have anything to do with science ever again. She'd be content to help care for the elderly and someday, when she was ready, she'd find someone to settle down with and start a family.

She had a promise to keep, and her new reflection would never let her forget that promise.

*** The End ***

 © 2008 by Terry Volkirch. This work may not be replicated in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the Author (copyright holder). All Rights Reserved. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental.