“Are the restraints tight enough?”
“Yes, of course they are. I told you, I know what I’m doing.”
“Now keep still, David, this won’t hurt a bit.”
The twisted smile on the doctor’s face told a far different story. Max struggled against the bonds securing him to the operating table as the old man’s hand moved closer. Max clearly saw the hypodermic, the needle now only inches from his eye. The younger man with the long blonde hair and pale blue eyes grinned, as Max emitted a scream that he was certain no one would ever hear.
“You okay, Max?” Jeff asked. “You don’t look so good.”
Max felt dizzy and disoriented, having to rest his hand on the taller headstone to steady himself.
Max and Jeff had gone to grab some pizza that afternoon. It was the start of summer vacation and Jeff had to stop and buy some flowers then meet his grandmother at Queen’s Park Cemetery. Jeff’s grandfather had passed away about six weeks earlier and his grandmother still liked to go to pay her respects and freshen the flowers beside the grave. The boys had just been chatting to Mrs. McNally and Max had stepped away to give the two family members a few moments of privacy.
He was standing by a tall elaborate headstone mounted on a marble pedestal, belonging to someone called Jonathan Dexter. There was a smaller headstone beside the pedestal. Before Max could read the name, his hand brushed the edge of the smaller gravestone. Disconnected, random images had suddenly flashed across his mind, culminating in the terrifying scene with the needle.