A Scripta

"I'm getting sick and tired of sucking my meals through a straw."

The Facemaker nurse looked the...man over. He was well-covered so she couldn't see the details of his body. He stood lopsidedly, which meant one leg was shorter than the other. He was encased in the armor, and she doubted she could get it off easily. She wasn't sure she wanted to.

"So you want your helmet off?"

"And to be able to put it back on."

"Oh, sure. Do you want your head to remain on this body?" She wasn't being sarcastic.

"Could you do that? I'd appreciate it." Neither was he.

She beckoned to one of the side rooms. She had him lay on the bed and restrained him. He put his arms in the right places - he had been in such a position before, she realized. She opened a drawer that presented her with everything from a scalpel to a hacksaw. She examined the helmet with a critical eye.

She heard a noise coming from the helmet. She stared at it, blinking. He had fallen asleep.

Shrugging, she took out a screwdriver and jammed it into a side hole. That woke him up with a cry, and she smiled under her mask. She dug the screwdriver in more, and started prying, trying to separate the two halves. That didn't quite work. She went after the seam between the front and back. That only succeeded in scratching the helmet because she couldn't gain purchase in the seams.

Another Facemaker peeked in, just as she had a mallet and chisel in her hand and was aiming it at that seam. "Hey, Krissie, don't do it like that."

"Huh?" Krissie looked up at the other Facemaker.

He walked into the room. "I've seen these helmets before. It's easy." He walked over to the wing that was on the side of the helmet, pressed a black button and pulled the wing forward. It turned on a wheel and clicked.

The light hiss of air was followed by a small "snap" as the front and back separated. To anyone else, the smell eminating from that would make them nauseous at the very least. Rot, combined with sweat, dirt, and fear, Facemakers had dealt with worse, both in looks and smell, so this was nothing to them - not to mention the ventilation device on their masks helped.

Slightly disappointed, the first nurse peeled away the helmet and stared, blinking. Anyone else would have recoiled.

He had unhealed sutures all over his face. His eyes were sealed shut. She glanced at her scalpel to wonder if she should try to cut them open. He had scars on the back of his head, testament to more unhealed or inadequately healed wounds.

The man on the bed took a deep breath and coughed. "Ugh, what is that smell?"

"You," the Facemaker said, slowly undoing his restraints. "When was the last time you had a bath?"

"I don't remember. Where are you?"

Meanwhile, the Facemaker looked inside the helmet: there was a black protrusion on both sides of the front section of the helmet. There were two holes on the side of the man' head - these would correspond to the protrusions.

The Facemaker stated, "You're blind, you know that?"

"Oh, that explains why everything's dark! I thought I looked so ugly that you didn't want anyone to see me so you shut the lights off."

"There is that," she said. "There's a connection inside your helmet that helps you see, I guess."

"Hm." He held out his hand. "Where's my helmet?"

She handed him the front part. He felt the protrusions on the side, then fit them to his head with a slight click. "Still can't see."

"Maybe you need to put the whole helmet back on."

He nodded, and she handed him the second part. Then she took his hand and showed him how the wing section worked - though he would have to take his glove off to do it, or have someone do it for him because it was a small hole. "Or stick something in the hole to hold the button down."

"Got anything I can use?"

She looked around and got a pen, handing it to him. He practiced opening and closing the helmet a few times, then put it back on. He gasped for a moment. "Oh, there everything is. It takes a little bit to warm up." He turned to the Facemaker. "So, how much?"

"Three K."

He ducked a hand under his breastplate. "Here's three and fifty. Thanks for your help."

"Sure. Let me know if you need anything else removed."

"I might." He walked out of the Facemaker's with a grin, thinking of a thick steak dinner. "I wonder how blind people eat..."