Bad Rockwell

Hal Emmerich sat with his father in a lush study, the boy shuffled uncomfortably in an overstuffed leather chair. Hal clutched his small Astro Boy figurine as his eyes darted around the old room, looking for something familiar, something that wasn't some bizarre weapon from an old war. Mr. Emmerich reached for his son's shoulder from his own seat, comforting the nine-year-old before their host entered the room.

A lone, old German man let himself into the room and soon greeted Mr. Emmerich. He took a seat in his own leather chair across from the scientist. Hal kept his focus on the Astro Boy figure, rotating an arm around the point it met the plastic torso, to avoid looking at the intimidating tall German. The boy continued to preoccupy himself as the adults made small talk about their jobs by looking for more moving parts. Just as Hal began to play with the left knee, he heard his name called in a thick German accent.

"Of course I'll look after little Hal."

With only a pat on the head and a warning to be good for the nice man, Mr. Emmerich left his son in the care of his colleague, known to Hal as simply The Medic.

The Medic slowly rose from his chair, closing his eyes and pondering what to do now that he and the boy were alone in his home. Lost in his own thoughts and fledgling plans, the German failed to see Hal timidly slip off into the other room, the boy having had enough of the dangerous-looking weaponry around him. Just as the Medic was about to take Hal by the hand and guide him around the house with a simple German lesson to boot, he found the boy's seat vacant. The German bit his bottom lip in an effort to not lose his composure. Rising with a shaking arm, he got up from his seat to find the boy.

Hal wandered the halls of the Medic's home freely, popping his head in and out of rooms with innocent curiosity. Room after room, the boy found nothing interesting in the antiques, relics, and mementos The Medic hoarded. Despite his increasing boredom with the old house, Hal continued until he found a room that at least held his attention. It looked like it could be The Medic's bedroom. It was decorated in yet more old-fashioned furnishings like vinyl records, faded photos of friends, and The Medic’s worn and dated weaponry all of which surrounded a large bed. Hal was more interested in the photos that were placed on a far wall bookshelf. Nearly half the photos he saw were of other children with glasses like him, the rest were simply heavyset bald kids. With little else to do, Hal headed inside the room, leaving the door open behind him as he moved for a closer look.

The Medic grit his teeth, trying to suppress the urge to panic over losing the child. He kept his walk brisk yet just under running speed to search his home. Quick glances along his halls revealed a trail of open doors and The Medic’s quicker steps led him along the carpeted floor to the last open door. He slowed his approach to a silent tread once he was able to peek around the doorframe to his bedroom. He first breathed a sigh of relief once he saw little Hal, then held his breath as he found what Hal was looking at. Blessing his devil’s luck, The Medic walked into his room, ready to give his speech once again.

Hal held one of the photographs in his small hands, noting he had the same pair of glasses as the child in the photo. Beyond that, they shared little in common, with the pictured child leaning against an old tree trunk and sneering into the camera as if just asked to do so. The boy was chubby all around for his age, a stark contrast to Hal’s slender frame and bony face. Just as Hal set the frame down did he find a shadow looming over him. He looked back over his shoulder to find The Medic standing tall over him, a warm smile dominating his long face. The Medic reached down to take the photo Hal was just observing, recalling the first line as he did so.

“I see you found my photos.”

Hal only nodded, shyness keeping him from speaking a word.

The Medic knelt down besides the boy and continued.

“These boys are special you know. ‘Mien Liebe’ I call them.”

“W-what?” Hal said, finding confusion a valid reason to speak.

“Ah, ‘My Love’ yes, that’s what it means in English.”

A fluster began to show on Hal’s face as The Medic leaned in closer.

“Love?”

“Yes. I love these boys like my own children, anything they want for a favor.”

Hal held his Astro Boy figure close to himself, just beneath his chin.

“A favor?”

“Yes, just one.”

His heart racing and feeling as if he had been given a genie’s wish, he immediately said:

“I’ll do it.”

Amazed at the speed Hal moved, The Medic suppressed a look of shock before mentally reorganizing his standard plan a few scenes ahead. His bearing gathered before Hal could suspect something; The Medic guided Hal onto his bed. The Medic then turned to his closet to gather his tools.

Hal sat on the bed, staring at The Medic as the German rummaged through his things. The boy wondered what it took to become one of his loved, even more if the man could give him what he wanted. The Medic soon turned back to Hal with a camera in hand and his carefully rehearsed lines in mind.

“All I want is a few pictures for my Minolta.”

Hal unconsciously adjusted his glasses with one hand before responding.

“That’s all? Really?”

“Of course.”

“Can Astro Boy be in the pictures too?” Hal asked, holding his figure for the German to see.

“Yes. Now pose however you like for now.”

“O.K.!” The boy gleefully replied, taking up Astro Boy’s normal in-flight position with a determined look in his eye and an outstretched arm with hand tightly clutching the robot figure.

The Medic forced a laugh, sensing Hal was doing some sort of homage with the ridiculous pose, and took the first of many photos. Hal was pictured in poses of strength, meekness, and playfulness, some of his own devising and the rest at The Medic’s direction. Slowly but surely, The Medic thought, the boy was becoming used to the camera and told the boy to remove his shirt.

It was an all too familiar situation for The Medic when Hal began to question the command, asking only why with no specifics given. The Medic began the old debate with the usual amount of aggression, telling Hal he was a grown-up to be listened to no matter what and the boy, becoming weak in will, accepted the reason. Unceremoniously, Hal exposed his supple skin to the stale air of The Medic’s home, lifting off his light t-shirt to do so. The Medic grinned behind the camera, flashing the built-in light over Hal’s chest and nipples repeatedly, shoddily altering his plan in the heat of the moment as sexual starvation began to dictate the German’s actions.

The Medic snapped photos greedily, trying to capture every inch of skin as it was stretched taut over Hal’s rib bones. The boy simply couldn’t keep up with The Medic’s demand to keep posing, flailing his arms and arching his back as fast as he could manage to try and satisfy his photographer. Still the pace continued to quicken as The Medic began to nearly yell at the boy with fervor. His demand was as simple as the last, but far more forceful in delivery, but The Medic would adopt any tone to get Hal to comply and remove his pants.

The boy’s face broke into full blush, his eyes tearing as The Medic lost his kind façade. Feeling fear begin to grip him, Hal tossed his pants aside and let the camera capture him in only briefs and sneaker shoes. The Medic’s demands came faster and harder as the shutter clicked without rhythm to guide it and Hal complied as best he could. The boy thrust his pelvis forward, bit his pointer finger and sharply turned from the lens, twisted his back enough to show his white fabric-covered buttocks, and finally held back a sob of panic as tears began to stream down his cheeks. Hal had been pushed to the breaking point by the angry and excited German, the camera documenting every moment of his growing despair. The Medic found his chance and spoke his last command from behind the camera.

“Take off the underwear.”

Shuddering with a dread unlike he felt in his near decade of life, Hal slid his briefs down with all speed. The boy gripped at the bed sheets around him, no longer certain of what he was supposed to be doing or of what command he was being barked at to follow. He twisted and turned himself, his breathing became sudden and rapid, and his stomach sunk for the ever-working camera. His small penis waved and bobbed with his testicles in the flashing light, as did his petite butt. Despite his efforts, The Medic only yelled harder to gain some control over Hal’s actions. However, Hal would hear none of it, slamming his Astro Boy figure and his free hand over his ears while his eyes shut themselves tight. He just wished the German would finally stop and not a moment after, the camera finally rested.

The Medic rushed to Hal’s side, seating himself by the boy, now on his side and curled up tightly into himself. The Medic had not followed through again, his fantasies of consent outweighed by his real impatience and sexual frustration. Absolute silence, aside from Hal’s sobbing, continued for an imagined hour and a real minute of time. The Medic broke the silence with a terse demand into the ear with Astro Boy held near it.

“Tell no one of this.”

Hal nodded and said nothing for the rest of the day or anything of the event to anyone else he knew.