The Teratologist by Edward Lee

You’re thinking that I’m either very confident about my abilities to defend myself,” Michaels began, “or I’m very stupid. I’m taking this straitjacket off and giving you full reign of the house, to move about as you please. And when you find your friend Westmore, please advise him of the current situation.”
    The jacket’s canvas straps came loose. Bryant—a very large man—shrugged it off, stood up, and turned, preparing to destroy Michaels in place.
    “ Here’s why you won’t lay a hand on me,” and then the Englander handed Bryant a stack of photos. Bryant flipped through them, getting sicker with each snapshot. All my relatives, he realized. Candid outdoor shots—as if taken secretly from a car—showed him his parents, his Uncle Eddie and Aunt Amelia, his sister, his nephew and niece.
    “ So you can see, Mr. Bryant. If you fail to cooperate with us in any way, or if I don’t walk out that door in a few minutes, all of your loved ones will be killed. We’ll kill them slowly and gruelingly. We’ll bring them here to do it. We’ll make you watch.”
    Bryant’s shoulders drooped. He’d never felt more defeated in his life.
    “ And you’re overlooking the best part. Consider your new alliance with us as a privilege, an adventure, not imprisonment. You see, if you’re lucky, perhaps Farringworth will succeed.” Michaels’ grin seemed to hover in the harsh lights. “You may get to meet God.”
    Bryant sat back down. “You’re insane.”
    “ No. I’m not. But Farringworth is.”
     
     
    (IX)
     
    Later.
    The horror had become an accretion. This was Bryant’s research, watching this. This is what I have to write about, he thought. He tried to focus, to be objective, however impossible that prospect seemed. “How can they? How can they have sex with these freaks?”
    Micheals smiled wide.
    “ Drugs, Mr. Bryant. The most potent aphrodisiac ever produced. It’s called Metopronil and the pharmaceutical company that Mr. Farringworth now owns developed it. It increases activity in the limbic system of the brain, most specifically in the amygdala, the rage center or visceral brain, which also controls sexual impulses. It raises serotonin levels dramatically causing violent sexual impulses, actually altering normal brain activity giving the subject the brain patterns of a serial rapist. In fact, it was by studying the brain activity of rapists, signature sex killers, and other sexual predators that we were able to develop the drug. ”
    “ That is truly fucking sick. So all those trucks we kept seeing coming back and forth. They were dropping off more of this stuff?”
    “ Some of them were. Some of them carried more of our guests. Would you like to see the rest of our home?”
    Michaels began walking across the room towards a door on the far end of the hall. Bryant had no choice but to follow. He didn’t want to spend another second in that room.
    “ This way to our guest suites. This is where we place our new arrivals until they learn to cooperate.”
    They walked down a hall lined with locked doors before entering a small room that looked like the security booth of a major casino. Video monitors dominated one entire wall with DVD recorders documenting every thrust and moan. Michaels sat down before the bank of monitors and took hold of the tiny red joystick that controlled each camera. The largest screen showed a diminutive Asian man with a shaved head sitting naked in the lotus position. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be deep in meditation but his face was anything but serene.
    Sweat bulleted down his face and his jaw muscles clenched and unclenched. From between his crossed legs an erection was clearly visible. He’d obviously been injected with the Metopronil, but he was fighting it. The effort seemed to be draining every ounce of his strength. Bryant could see him tremble and shiver as if stricken by fever. Across from him lay a woman whose limbs were twisted and bowed like