( The journal, written in a fair hand, begins with an entry one year after the terror of late 1897 to mid 1898. The names of the persons mentioned are known to have existed in British society at that time, all being of unquestionable reputation and class in the area of science.

( Though the author of this document makes some outrageous claims, no other records exist which might corroborate the testimony given within the immaculately kept leather bound cover. A certain name is given as fact, tho we only know it in a fictional context. The chief perpetrator of the alleged crimes against these individuals did live in London but disappeared mysteriously before the date mentioned in the diary.

( Fair warning is given to take this testimony with a sufficient amount of salt. )

 

Are We Not Men?               by: Way Zim

 

August 7th, 1900.

I sit in the study waiting. It is a sweltering heat which has settled upon the city, some say it is the inferno from the heavy vapors of the brace of factories to the west of our flat. Arthur, my dear brother, rudely remarked that in actuality it was that all the hot air from Parliament has finally landed after the bluster over the business with Germany in Africa. Expansionist rhetoric, indeed.

It was Arthur who had taken me in after my former friends and colleagues had turned their backs on the three of us, found drifting in that swamped sloop in the south seas. It must have been the barrister in him which allowed him to stay final judgment until an exhaustive Q&A session convinced him I was telling the truth.

But for that, with all the changes and the pain I had undergone, I believe my life would have been forfeit long before. It has cost me my position with university, my standing in the scientific community at large. Sometimes in my slumber, I think of that strange island and think that perhaps Dr Mullen might have escaped the holocaust after all.

The mad genius might have gone underground, might well be in Switzerland or France. But the marks that were left on our bodies and our souls can not be forgiven, ever. I hear Arthur at the door and must greet him with a smile. Upon that he has been most insistent.

August 8th.

I am so angry at my brother, wringing my small hands like a schoolgirl. I asked him once again about finding a publisher to print my memoirs. Even if the lords of the courts did not believe my story, the populace needed to be made aware. At this point he stood to his full height of five,eleven and scolded me as if I were a child.

" It is enough that I took you in when no one else would. If you insist on pursuing this obsession any further, you risk destroying what future remains for you now. It would also, I might add, damage my reputation at the bar. Just drop the matter and let things return to normal. "

What was normal? That he would say such a thing to me, as if I were a naughty child or a wife. I swallowed my rage, so tempted to strike him that it hurt, and bowed my head in defeat. He saw this and smiled softly. " There's a good... person. " laughed Arthur and kissed my smooth cheek.

It is shameful to recount that I found myself running to my bedroom. I fell sobbing upon the satin sheets, faintly scented with lilac. Lilac! an aroma for old ladies, but Arthur, tho he means well, keeps bringing it into the house.

I do not go out much myself. The tidal wave of humanity, so transparent in their confused intentions frighten me. Especially the packs of eager males who now see me in a different light from that which shone down upon my once broad shoulders only twelve months before.

But inspite of my siblings’ condescension, I must write all that I remember, though the pain brings lovely amnesia to the worst memories. For future Dr Mullens and future victims of same, I dedicate these pages.

August 9th; Remembrances.

My name was, is, George Stanton, the younger of two male children born to Albert and Dorothy Stanton of Yorkshire county. With a tousle of light, almost white, blonde hair and a lean masculine face, I was a standout next to my elder brother with his dark ruddy complexion and almost Romanesque honker.

Mother and Father were both instructors at the local school, teaching us that through knowledge one will be better able to understand and control the world around him. Both Arthur and I excelled in our studies, though I felt the pull of the aesthetic in sharp contrast to my brothers more linear mind. He was always on the lookout for facts to establish truth while I might accept testimony alone, if it came from an honest source.

We went to University in London, he to study law and I to learn of the intricacies of physiology, biology and comparative anatomy between different phylum. I was astonished, in the setting of higher academia, by the vast region of discovery which was going on during my lifetime!

The prevention of certain disease through the process of Pasteurization, the discovery of causal links between germ and carrier of deadly illnesses, the mind of man working to uncover the mysteries of nature. It was one thing to hear mention of it in text but to actually witness the process at work was overwhelming.

It was in my second year that I ran into my two chums, Longstad and Jenkins. We would form a friendship which would last for the next three years til our mutual trial under fire. The test would finally drive Harold Longstad insane and lead Raymond Jenkins into a life I'd not have suspected from the way the stoic acted before.

What can I say about Harold. He was the stereotypical bookworm, at home among the dusty tomes in the vast campus library. With pale complexion and too eager smile, the poor lad scared off even the shiest of lasses. But his great inner strength, devotion to the solidity of research and logistical studies, saved the collective arses of both Raymond and myself on many an occasion.

I enjoyed books, this is true, but the fairer sex attracted me even more. I learned the secret of cribbing from Jenkins, God bless him, so was able to attend to my second passion with the needed ardor. As much as Longstad was anemic and awkward, Raymond was the opposite. He was a sure hand, or should I say ' Foot? ' at both rugby and cricket. The two of us were forever on the green in the numerous matches against other schools and the faculty instructors.

Of course the girls were there, admiring our moves, tho I confess that many a time I ended up in the mud. But I found that my efforts off the field did not come to not. Raymond and I would return to our rooms at dawn with drunken grins, awakening Harold with our noise. Harold never went with us. This worried me at times.

In September of 93, while finalizing a paper on Darwinist theories, I heard reports of a strangeness in the West End slums. Some madman with a scalpel had been mistreating poor dumb animals in ways that were unbelievable to contemplate. The neighbors, a surly and unwashed bunch of heathens as you would ever meet, had long endured the sounds of wailing and a peculiar stench which overwhelmed even the nasty smell from the piles of refuse which collected at the curbsides.

Things came to a head when the coppers, finally responding to myriad protests, encountered a dog running from the hovel where this crazy resided. The animal had the most brutal torture inflicted upon it, screaming unnaturally with the skin flayed completely from its body. Muscle and tendon, blood streaming out of wounds too numerous to mention, exposed for all to see.

My brother was there when they brought the man in. The suspect was apparently a doctor of sorts, an evolutionary researcher who presented some twisted ideas on species development to his peers. They laughed at first but soon became terrified by his strong devotion to the idea that pain provided motivation for accelerated evolution, perhaps even resocialization in different animal types.

The man, Dr Monroe, I think that was the name, was discredited within the Royal academy as well as in similar circles from Antwerp to Paris to the States. He apparently continued on with his studies until the authorities shut him down. It was not soon after that certain influential allies covered the bond for his release and the prisoner immediately fled the country.

The excitement died on campus, tho there were some among the medics who were intrigued with some of the questions this loony raised. They were not saying we go about skinning animals while still alive to see if they jump, but the idea of environment shaping us rather than The Creator placing an indelible stamp of behavior on us circulated round the pubs and coffee houses.

But it was something else which awoke an excitement in the three of us, Harold being the first to receive the great news. Our university had gotten a grant to put together an expedition of the best and the brightest from the graduate pool, some ten in number. Evidence of new species of fish, reptiles and fowl near the Marianas encouraged the academics to seek funding. The trip, headed by pro Darwinists, professors Nelson and Fenier, would leave Whitby within a month.

It would take a number of weeks, hopefully beating the soon to arrive Monsoons which circulated round that region, to get there. In the warm waters which surrounded the island chain, my chums and I might be in on some ground breaking discoveries. Find the irrefutable truth behind the Beagles discovery of generational changes in phylum.

We set sail on a clear day in late April of 97, riding low in the moderately rough surf with a heavy ballast of equipment and provisions. I was surprised to find that Harold took the journey with a strong constitution while Raymond found the swells so fascinating that he needed to examine them up close. I felt mildly queasy but nothing that a bicarbonate couldn't settle.

The Bark which we had hired was modest in length but well put together. With the crew and passengers, the compliment of persons totalled only twenty in number. After the accident, only four would live to find themselves afloat on a boiling sea. It would be pointless to explain that we were within a hundred miles of our goal when the violent storm came upon us.

It had been calm one minute and the next, we were hit by waves that rose well over the starboard side of the vessel. I was washed over port and fell into the churning waters, the salty fluid filling my mouth as I attempted to scream for help. Similar shouts were heard on deck only to be blotted out as rushing waters caught the Bark in a wallow from which she would not recover.

I struggled weakly as the surge surrounded me, pushing me down into the brine. It was in the fates that I should die, along with the rest of my mates, but in a last desperate act my outstretched fingers found a rescuer who grasped hold and would not let go.

"You okay, George? " sputtered Raymond as he sought to clear the residue of the seawater from his own throat. " Yes. " my reply was barely audible but my comrade patted my shoulder as we lay sprawled across the curved upright bottom of the capsized dingy. To my right was Harold, holding tight to the spine. He looked so much like a drowned rat, I forgot our dire circumstances and laughed in ironic amusement.

The first mate was to my left but on the opposite side of the tiny craft as was Jenkins. " Where is the ship? " I asked after a ragged cough which hurt my lungs. The sailor pointed downward to the deep green abyss beneath our float. " Gon ta join Davy Jones. If this storm don let up soon, we might well join em. "

The sudden squall did pass by in only fifteen minutes. It was as if nothing had happened with the now calm sea and the gulls calling to one another. With the help of the mate, a middle aged but grizzled seadog named Conner, we were able to right the dingy so that we had a serviceable but empty craft. It was well that we would not drown but with a hot tropical sun beating down upon us, thirst and starvation would do the job just as well.

It was at this point in my narrative that I find a gap in my testimony. How long we floated in that great endless sea is not known to me having lost so much time. Delirium settled upon us til the lot saw visions of great temples and shapely goddesses in the sparse cloud cover overhead. The deep redness of our flesh on face and exposed arms signaled to all that death would soon arrive. As with the storm, reports of my demise were greatly exaggerated.

" Bring em aboard. Easy now. " boomed a voice which I thought was masculine, but with a strange pitch to it which confused me in my fever. Hands took hold of my thin arms and raised me out of the dingy. I could barely see but I thought I saw a narrow face with hard intelligent eyes which examined me like a specimen about to be dissected.

" Take them below and give them broth! " ordered the peculiar individual. I spied, through half sealed lids, a smallish hand indicating a hatch on the deck of this vessel. " I will take care of the examinations! I want this ship underway in fifteen minutes! We should have arrived at the island two days ago! Move your lazy arses! "

The sounds of activity, familiar to me after the time spent aboard my own ship, shown the speed by which this mans orders were being carried out. That was the last I remembered before awakening in a low bunk below deck some twelve hours later.

" Hello there. " declared the stranger as I came around to find a closet of a cabin about me. The planking, the curvature of the wall to my left, all indicated I was aboard a vessel of somekind. I tried to rise but a terrible sickness overcame me. A pair of hands went to my back and supported me in my attempt to sit up.

" Slowly, slowly. You are suffering from exposure and dehydration. If we had not been onroute back to Mirtan Island.... " at the softness of the words I focused upon my rescuer and thought I saw a woman's face. The deceptively smooth face, the length of the lashes on the otherwise severe gaze, the tiny indent in the upper lips. But then there was a down on that same face which mirrored the youthful attempt at a beard.

The shoulders were narrow, even beneath the rough seaman's shirt. The dark trousers gave no notice to gender as baggy as they were. Perhaps there were breasts, somewhat underdeveloped or maybe they were pectorals gone to flab. " I am Dr Sam Henderson. I am a biologist working at a research retreat some thirty miles north by northeast of this position. "

That should have settled the question but it only made me more confused. " My companions? Are they? " Dr Henderson interrupted my weak voice with a slight sardonic edge. " They are fine, tho I must admit that you picked the damnedest time to become shipwrecked. With the rainy season upon us and being at the end of our supply run.... Well, there is nothing to be done about it now. Are you up to some soup, Mr... ? "

" Dr Stanton, George Stanton. I might just manage some, thank you. " I muttered. Sam grinned, though the politeness seemed strained. " Ah, another scientist. Your colleagues as well, I suspect. Were you on some journey when your ship went down? " he asked. There was an underlying intensity to the interrogation which reflected a concern.

" We were going to the Marianas. An expedition to collect specimens. We wanted to establish the truth to Charles Darwin's proposals on the origins of the species. " I explained and that answer seemed to please my peer greatly. He patted my shoulder and the somewhat dainty nature of the hand made me question the sex of this individual.

But my exhausted state was not conducive to such inquiries and I postponed any questions til my strength returned. I lay back upon the bunk and waited to see what fate had in store for us. It was exactly two days later that Dr Henderson allowed the four of us on deck. With dark clouds massing on the horizon to the east, we had arrived at the final destination barely in time to escape the rain.

There was a great stretch of sparkling white beach which ran the length of my vision. I could give a rough estimate of some five to ten miles either direction but could not be sure. Though a mix of Palms formed scattered clutches of forest several yard back from the shoreline, there was a wide patch of cleared land which extended into the tropical landscape.

" Bloody paradise! Eh? " exclaimed our seaman, forgetting the indignities of the past as his gaze drank in the scenery. " But where are the huli huli girls? " he demanded in a burst of risque humor. Sam turned at this and frowned in the manner of a school matron when a naughty lad delivered sauce. But as he caught me looking, the scientist smiled ruefully. Not a word was exchanged but I suspected all was not what it seemed.

The ship sailed through an opening in a reef into a calm lagoon of transparent blue green waters. Since the slope of the shelf beneath us rose drastically, we dropped anchor twenty yards from shore. All the supplies would have to be delivered by a long boat while the crew battened down in anticipation of the coming storm.

Raymond, Harold, Conner and myself clambered down the rope ladder after which Sam followed. He directed the men still aboard to lower cargo. It was only when the waterline was almost level with the side of our smaller craft that Dr Henderson raised sail. He had a confident hand and the boat caught the winds just right.

As he was busy with the job of getting us to shore safely, I looked at the beach to find a group of natives coming out of the treeline. In their midst was a lone white.

Unlike our savior, this person, from observation of build and face, was clearly female. She was fair, with a short crop of honey blond hair partially concealed by a wide mans sun hat. The small form wore male attire with a short sleeved cotton shirt and baggy trousers. As we came within hailing distance, I noted a speculative light blue gaze which shown brightly in the quite feminine heart-shaped face.

" Ho, Sam! " shouted the woman as Harold stared in unabashed adoration. " Who are the newcomers? Don't you know the rules concerning off islanders?! " she demanded. Dr Henderson waved a hand. " We had no choice! They were adrift! Shipwrecked! " the bow of our boat barely touched the sand before the men, with the look of the Polynesian to them, quickly drew the craft up on the beach.

Busy hands off loaded the boxes and they formed a line ready to carry the supplies into the forest. " I think you'll find my hospitality strained. gentlemen. " declared the obvious mistress of the island. This surprised us since we assumed that Henderson was boss. " This is a biological station, isolated and restricted. I am Doctor Francine Mullen, one of only two scientists in charge of this facility and you are not welcome here. "

Our collective mouths fell open at this open hostility and Raymond made ready to deliver bluster of his own when an unexpected champion came to our defense. " Dr Mullen. Three of these men are also scientists, biologists from London. " interjected Dr Henderson. The anger on that fair angelic face lightened somewhat, dissolving into shrewd curiosity. " This is true? You speak first. " she demanded of me.

" It is true. We were to study biologics in the Marianas chain. Our ship went down and we are the only survivors. " I answered harshly. " We have been starved, burnt by the sun and perhaps are in no less a generous mood than you seem to be. If I could work miracles, I would be back in England in a soft bed. But that is not the case, is it? "

At this strong retort, a lovely smile crossed our hostesses lips. She pointed to where the darkies had gone. " Go up that path to the main building. You can wait in the parlor for me and we can decide how best to handle this unforeseen situation. "

With no other choice but to obey, the four of us trudged up the sandy slope toward the rough trail. The two doctors followed some distance behind us, deep in discussion, most likely about the clearly unwanted guests.

" Did you catch the look of that lass? " asked Raymond as we walked. " Quite a bit of work, that one. All alone on this island with only savages as companions." he gushed and I chuckled dryly. No sane reason that a white woman would lay with primitives, no matter what had been writ about the noble savage. " And what of Dr Henderson? " I countered.

" You've seen our friend there. I'm not sure that he is the sort to lust after women. " Jenkins responded easily. He was right, of course. That might have answered my own questions about our supporter. But what was Dr Mullens story?

As we discussed our present dilemma and the dim prospects of rescue, huge droplets of moisture began to fall from swollen clouds. Luck was with us as the path cleared before us and the generous hard wood single story house came into view.

The place, with thatched roof and bamboo shuttered windows, did not look like much from the front. But it was shelter and we ran for cover through the descending torrent of water til the party made the veranda completely drenched. I noted my manhood stood at attention as the quite lovely form of Dr Mullen shown through the soaked fabric. I blushed slightly when I saw that she found me staring.

" I will ask Timora, my maid, to show you to a place where you might change out of your wet things. The man porters have already brought the equipment to my lab and left. Henderson and I do not encourage mingling with the locals, except where a few might help with my work. Speaking of same, I must leave the task of entertaining to my associate. I have an experiment brewing at the moment. " this, the longest speech given by our comely colleague, was delivered in a voice with a touch of annoyance to it.

" Caught ya lookin, did she? " teased Conner with the rough manner of his kind. As with everything else, class would tell. We were pleased to find a beautiful little native girl, dressed in the abbreviate silken cloth sarong of her kind. Just a single bit of native weave between us and the wondrous bounty beneath. I could see that the sailor was already thinking of sampling this sad young girls pleasure.

" Why so glum, little one? " asked Raymond in sympathy. " You are such a lovely girl. " at this declaration tears formed at the edges of those Asian eyes. " No Loa! No Loa! " she protested.

" Now stop it this minute, Timora! " scolded Sam in a hard disciplinary tone. " The mistress will have to punish you. Do you want that? " he asked with a gentler softer voice. The girl shook her head, pitch black mane which fell to the small of her back waving seductively to and fro. At a gesture, Timora turned to show us our quarters in the back and I found yet another mystery. Down the ridge of the spine, the back of the neck, along legs and arms were tiny white lines.

Now the three of us had done some surgery in our time as well as evisceration of animals. What I saw were the scars from a doctors blade! I saw that Jenkins and Conner were too blinded by her sex to see what I did. But Harold nodded to me that he understood all too well. Our hostess was not restricting her science to lower forms of life.

Henderson left us in the spacious quarters, a whale oil lamp on a small table in the middle. The maid had set up a trio of cots for us and indicated a closet which we found was filled with fresh garments. Light shirts, trousers as well as socks and pairs of boots suited to jungle wear. Our host had requested our presence in the dining room after we'd dressed so there was no time to voice my concerns.

" Dr Mullen will be delayed, so we may eat now. " Sam sat at the head of the mahogany table. set with the finery of Europe. The food was tropical mix of fish and fruit with a fine claroit with which to wash it down. All needs were tended to by Timora and two other equally lovely creatures in similar undress. As with the head housekeeper, all were unhappy in state and shied away from complimentary male attentions. As each served us, I looked for and found the same types of scars.

" What is the work that Dr Mullen and you do here? " asked Longstad, his thin lips sampling some of the wine. " It’s confidential. " answered Sam offhandedly. " Of course once it reaches a publishable form, I would be glad to let you take a gander. For that reason I must ask you to keep to the main house. Francine would be most angry if you would disturb her experiments. "

Both Harold and I nodded in concert but Raymond seemed troubled. Conner, for his obvious lack of breeding, seemed interested in the secrecy but also held his council. Sam confided that he might approach the doctor about sharing some of the preliminary results with us but not to become too hopeful. We ate the rest of the meal in peace noting that our hostess did not show. Just what was this work?

The three of us retired to a comfortable study where we found a coffee service, a small bottle of brandy and some fine cigars. I did not smoke but Raymond helped himself. The pungent scent drifted across from the woven whicker chair in which he sat. " So, what did you want to tell me? " he requested with an amused look at the joint concern of Harold and myself.

" Did you see? All the native women who serve our friends had been under the knife. What kind of mischief are Henderson and Mullen up to? Some kind of butchery, I would guess. " I told him. " Nonsense. Probably some tribal disease for which our peers used surgery to cure. I see no harm in attempting to bring culture and medicine to these poor people. " declared Jenkins.

" But what of the way they acted? They were terrified when you complimented them on their femininity and the way that Sam treated them. " countered Longstad. Raymond still did not seem convinced and Harold nodded toward the direction of the so called lab some distance from the main house. " One more thing. I saw it as Dr Henderson made ready to leave. He had his arms and legs covered, but over the collar I saw the same scar that the women had. "

We did not notice that Conner had gone his own way but in the midst of our discussions there came a scream of terror from somewhere outside the building. We ran out into the downpour, looking in vain for our lowly comrade. I saw Dr Henderson coming from the wood and motioned frantically to him. " Did you hear that? " I demanded harshly.

" Didn't I tell you to stay inside?! It would seem that your friend, Mr Conner, ventured on to a bad plot of land! The mud is as bad as quicksand in some places and it pulled him under before I could get em out! " as evidence, Sam held out a torn bit of shirt which matched the one worn by our sailor. We could only stare in disbelief at one another as the scientist stomped through the muck toward the lab.

There was a confused silence among us, sleep coming only after several hours of restless turning. When the morn came, the heavy rains making it almost indistinguishable from the night before, neither Henderson or Mullen showed up for breakfast. Raymond tried a few times to tease Timora into giving us information but she seemed even more frightened and could only shake her head.

This began a week of listlessness for us, pacing back and forth between meals and the library. I was not surprised to find the bulk of literature consistent with that of any good scientist. Tomes on surgical techniques, anatomy texts on both human and animal physiology. But whatever our reclusive pair was up to was most likely in advance of such rude procedures.

It was on a rare clear day when the noises from the direction of the lab began. Always low, perhaps muffled by thick walls, it sounded as a woman in pain. Such suffering could not be tolerated, not with the cursory evidence of the abominations performed upon the maids. I did not voice my concerns to the others just yet but ventured down a gentle slope toward the outbuilding. Just as I was within a few yards of the lab, Sam emerged from inside. He did not see me and I pressed myself against the building, waiting to see what the man was up to. He wore a long white coat, spotted with scarlet stains. I must have caught the doctor at the conclusion of some atrocity, red handed as they say. But curiosity overcame my initial idea of confrontation and I followed him into the jungle.

There was a small animal trail which zig zagged for almost a mile into the thick overgrowth. Sam was oblivious to his surrounding and muttering softly to himself. I could not catch the words and contented myself with simply tracking the surgeon to a isolated glade. Kneeling beside a pond filled with runoff from the slope behind it, Sam began removing his clothes to wash them in the clear water.

Henderson, for I could no longer refer to the creature before me in the masculine, was a hermaphrodite of near flawless perfection. Unlike the poor things encountered in nature, the human male and female portions flowed seamlessly into one another.

The face was mostly that of a boy on the edge of manhood with a subtle hint of the feminine about eyes and mouth. The chest, as I had noted earlier, wore the small immature mounds of a girl child. There was evidence that some surgery had attempted to flatten the breasts into the budding pectorals of a male but it was still incomplete.

The limbs, heaven help me! had been shaped as perhaps that famous sculpture of David might have looked if cast in flesh instead of stone. The muscle masses moved naturally off the torso and pelvis which seemed impossible by any medicine I was familiar with. The strange figure doffed the rest of its garments, vigorously dunking them into the pond. I felt a terror wash over me when I spied the limp but exaggerated masculine genitalia resting between the strong manly thighs of Dr Henderson!

My exhalation was slight, my trembling made no perceptible sound, but the monstrous thing paused in its cleanup to stare intently toward the point where I lay in concealment. I was forced into a motionless pose while the bizarre creature narrowed its study of the foliage. For what seemed an eternity I waited until at last Henderson returned to its task. Given the opportunity I slipped away from that beautiful horror eager to share what I had seen with my fellows.

To their credit, both Jenkins and Longstad did not actually disbelieve me. That the man was a female in disguise might well be true. But the notion that a process which would so neatly create the being which I described was too incredible to consider. We sat on the veranda in the fiery glow of the tropical sunset and I was hard pressed to find a suitable argument which might irrefutably prove the truth of my statement.

But as I searched my thoughts they were interrupted by the presence of Timora who motioned us to dinner. As my companions and I entered the dining room we discovered that Dr Mullen had decided to grace us with her company. Our hostess had dressed in accordance to her gender for the occasion.

Even with the diminutive length of her hair, the woman had managed to affect a curl of the shorn locks which complimented the blush on her finely lined cheeks. A scarlet choker with a golden trim of shimmering floral patterns went round the slender neck. Raymond smiled slightly as we appreciated the deep red dress with soft corset which pressed the small but firm breasts forward. The ruffled cut allowed a fair vision even as the ankle length hem of the gown teased with a hint of stockings.

" I do apologize, gentlemen. " she explained in a light melodic tone which in hindsight was carefully calculated to enchant us. " For what, dear lady? " ventured Jenkins, ever smooth in his mild dismissal of her remarks.

" You had suffered terribly and I treated you with such distain. But it’s past time to make amends for such horrid behavior. I wish to do so by explaining, and for men of science this would be easily accomplished, the nature of my research on this isolated retreat. " As I listened to her words, my eyes could not help but fall none too casually to the gently heaving bosom. I suddenly thought of the vision at the pond and shuddered.

" Of my early life, I need say little. I was born in a small village near Hamburg, Germany. My fascination with the wonders of the natural world began as a childs eyes observed a glistening shell on a outstretched branch breaking open and the damp form of a moth emerging from within.

" My mama was beside me and she declared upon the miracle of it all. That a plain caterpillar should close itself off from the world soon to become a thing of beauty. But there was something in my mind which asked the question. ' Might not the moth, if it wishes, return to the cocoon and change back to its first form? '

" She laughed at this but I was insistant that it was not fair that the creature could not do as it wanted, going from one shape to another. ' It would be like saying that I might become a man so that I might rule the world. ' declared mama and this further confused me.

" We moved from the continent, first to Paris and then to London where my father took up a post with the German Consulate. It was here where I began in earnest my search for that question asked so many years before. I was met with false encouragement by some, frightened when my own grasp of visceral matter surpassed the baser male mind. Others were more open in thier scorn, offering a place between thier bedsheets if I gave up this nonsense.

" The question changed in nature, confronted as I was with the dim prospect of rising no further then Nurse in the eyes of my peers. ' Does the form dictate the life path of an organism or might it alter a restrictive physical state to push the boundries of socialized limits? ' I looked to the lower forms of life, utilizing my under appreciated but ever increasing skill with the scalpel.

" I had some success with rodents and felines. Through experiments in which the carcasses of the failures filled the sewers beneath my makeshift lab, it was revealed that gross manipulation of flesh forced set behaviors to fall apart, susceptible to the will of the surgeon. The rats began to exhibit catlike behavior while the mousechasers did the opposite.

" In the spring of 93, I discovered that a brilliant vivisectionist from Vienna had been working along similar lines. His name was Dr Moreau. He asked the question. ' Do behaviors in man come from God or from the brutal forces of the new science of evolutionary change? ' As with any radical ideas, it was met with disbelief and later with threats of immorality.

" Though I detested the notion that I might have lusted after his kindred mind I now think it was so. He was amused at my crude notions and of my rejection that we had anything to learn from test subjects which could not aide by self analysis of retarded or altered states of being. But the towering giant of an intellect was not too aloof that he did not steal some of my conclusions and flee with them to places unknown. "

The name was now illuminated in my mind. The flayed dog, the torn remains found in a West End hovel, was now identified with a purpose. I did not see the association of pain with process. Perhaps it was a stubborn resistance of the last vestiges of a Victorian mind. It could have also had to do with the cool clinical tones which transformed this beautious lady into something else.

" Drink your wine, sirs. It will help you to disgest both food and the concepts I have handed you. " she suggested lightly. Raymond downed the contents of his glass in a single gulp while Harold and I drank slower. " So you caame to this place? " my words slurred somewhat as a drowsiness began to fall over me.

" I attempted to continue my own research, abandoning animals to look at human studies. I knew that it could not be attempted openly nor in the same manner as with the less evolved creatures. It was in Camden town that I found a young lady, laying in the gutter, but in her sullen eyes was a brilliant light almost destroyed by social mores and class restrictions. It was with some money left in trust for me after my parents died that I prepared for the next stage... "

Her words faded into a fuzzy murmur as my world turned to blackness. I heard the sounds of distant thuds and my last thoughts were that my comrades were likewise drugged. The feeling, as an increasing tingle, returned to my limbs after an indeterminate amount of time. The enclosure, with a harsh scent of carbolic acid, was meticulously kept. Though I lay on a wooden table with leather straps to confine my movements, my head turned easily, side to side, and I found my colleagues beside me.

They were likewise held captive to our ladies whim. The windowless walls held shelves with bottles of various solutions, a smaller stand to my right supported a tray with various instruments all too familiar to me. As I gazed down between my feet I saw a bamboo cage which seemed to have a blood drenched human inside. It was weeping with that same voice I'd heard some time before.

" Lard, deliver me from this evil. " the thing cried with a range which seemed halfway between male and female in range. It raised its head, raked with two finely stitched vertical scars which ran behind the cheek bone, and to my horror I discovered Conner staring back at me! Even through the red stain I could see what that woman had done.

Conner was not the man he was, his heavy jawline crushed into a narrow mold. The skin, possibly what the acid had been used for, seemed smoother with nary a hair upon that resculpted face. In its nakedness the thing was already vaguely womanish with mounds of fatty tissue carved from waist and stomach to be rudely sewn onto chest and thighs.

" We work with such material as we are given. " sighed a dry feminine voice. Dr Mullen stood just out of my vision " As you did with Sam? Or is it Samantha? " I countered bitterly.

" As a woman, she was only good for satisfying the carnal lusts of men for a few pennies. I found within that delicate form a mind which could readily grasp the wonders that I offered it and willing to endure the agonies of the knife.

" I grant you that he is an unfinished work but we learn as we go. If you noticed the way I have prepared Mr Conner for his eventual role as housematron to my native servants, the skull has been broken ever so gently. The limbs were slightly more difficult since in order to preserve the integrity of the skin, I was forced to use the smallest of incisions to the back of same. Of course, as with my rats, I have been able to coax the shattered pieces to reform into whatever shape I require. " she explained in clinical terms.

" But what of us? " asked Harold as he stared at the surgeon with open horror in his eyes. Dr Mullen smiled sweetly. " I had thought that one of you might wish to become my helpmate in pursuing the final glorious truths of rats and men. But Stanton is perhaps too independent, too linear in his thinking. Jenkins too carnal in his appetites "

" Linear. " I retorted, thinking how amused Arthur would have been to heard her remarks. Raymond was still too shaken by his captivity and our uncertain fate to make comments but Longstad spoke in a slow measured voice directed at our captor. " I will help you. " he said. Both Jenkins and I shouted angrily but Dr Mullen nodded in agreement.

" You are unsure enough about your own strengths that I can hold you in check without much effort. But all the same, Sam will be your watchdog. It would be far too easy to turn you into the most timid of women while your friends will present a greater challenge. Let us proceed then. " she commanded my former comrade in arms. All that was left to Raymond and I was pain.

The mad woman did me no service by continuing her butchery of our sailors poor body. For her part, Dr Mullen gained some small amusement as she brought Conner out of his cage, Sam and Harold holding up the reduced frame with great ease. As he was moved, our seaman shrieked in unspeakable agonies. The subject secured to the board vacated by Longstad was gently bathed in an alcohol solution to clean the numerous wounds while Francine sterilized her tools with a diluted acid formula.

" It is no small task to alter the muscle masses, Dr Longstad. " mocked the vivisectionist as she lectured Harold with great distain in her tones. The hemaphrodite assistant stood by both to aid the doctor and keep our friend in check. " Gross amputation severely damages even elementary function which is contrary to my goals. It is a mans technique. "

" I.... I noticed you divided them into a great number of sections. Is this part of your own refinement? " asked the man meekly. Francine seemed pleased by his question. " If you have seen how such injury to limbs actually reshapes the damaged extremities. In war or by accident, it can stretch tendon and ligaments or shrink them radically. I gain control of the process by only changing such parts as will affect the final design I wish. "

With a deft stroke of the blade, Mullen opened a slit along the patients left calf. He screamed in terrible agony and I finally found myself succumbing to the bliss of unconsciousness. For how long I remained in that state would only be revealed by Harold much later. But it was such a span that Conner had been altered so to fully reveal the woman he, she would be after healing.

" You have returned to us, eh? " chided Sam, a damp cloth wet with the overpowering scent of alcohol. " I hoped you enjoyed the view when you spied on me at the pond. " it remarked with a womans coyness. I noted that Conner was back in the cage, a rough muslin dress over the battered and expertly scarred form. It is not much comfort to recall that I found the final form to be the ugliest of females.

" Pain is the teacher. To simply break the body, to roughly mold the flesh, not enough to change the essence within. Francine is certain that she will be find this to be true. As you become the very image of femininity in body, the sensibilities you associate with same must emerge. " taught Sam almost by rote.

At great peril I glared into that youthful face with anger.

" I see that it worked well with Timora. No Loa? Not a woman.? How does your great goddess explain this flaw in her theories? ' I spat out, my voice raspy from dehydration. " Our sweet native child and her people are simple creatures. They were not born with the inbreed intellect of the European mind. But with our more complex map of socialized behaviors, your brain should acclimate itself to the designs of the flesh. " countered Henderson.

I happened to glance at the imprisoned form and saw a fine mixture of confusion and madness in those sad eyes. As much a dullard as Conner had been, I had yet to see the gentler nature that I had thought was woman. This would be the last rational thought I would have til our liberation.

What I do remember, during the brief periods of healing after several operations, was associations of phrases and images. They were fragments which barely registered except on the edge of memory. Dolly, Flower and Tea service, intoned repetitively in the loving voice of Francine. Dress, Princess, House, all had some relationship I could not consciously fathom. Pictures of intimates, Corset, Bustle, Stockings and Garters, were as lovely sensual dreams.

Between these sessions and after a touch of the knife to my tender flesh I could hear women screaming. It would become clear as Harold helped me to recall what I had lost that one of the voices was mine. Only after an indeterminate time did I awaken beneath bedcovers, strangely arousing to my sensative skin.

I was terribly sore from head to foot, still unsure of what or who I was. It took a great effort to rise out of that bed, wooden slates on a window shining fragmented beams of sunlight into the room. As I pulled down the covers I let loose a shout, a noise which I somehow knew was the result of Francines diabolic surgery. A door to my left opened a few seconds later, Sam entering with a womans long dressing gown over his arm and a glass of cloudy liquid in his right hand.

" You poor dear. " he, though I confess as to confusion to my sudden use of the masculine address, held the drink out to me. " Don't worry my sweet. It’s only a mild opiate to calm you and ease the pain. Once you've drunk it, let us go into the other room and greet your friend. There's a good girl, now. "

For whatever reason, I took the draught and downed it in a single swallow. My body, despite the ache which invaded its entire frame, felt lighter and freer somehow. I rose up to accompany my escort, still puzzled over the corset, bloomers and tight stockings which adorned my still numb figure. But when I limped into the adjoining bedroom I spied a full length mirror and let another womanly cry escape my full pouting lips!

For such a change to have occured! It could only have been many weeks, if not months, in and out of consciousness. I was not the tallest of men at five foot four but the image in the glass was perhaps three inches shorter. My once lean face, with the tell tale white lines hidden by a honey blonde mane which tumbled in curls to the base of my neck, was gone to be replaced by gently rounded cheeks and a petite nose.

What sins had I been guilty of that my head was the most angelic of womankind with fluttering lashes and rose painted kissable lips? My soft gaze followed the acid smoothed lines of my reshaped jaw to the slender neck, A quite feminine gasp escaped with the sight of modest breasts pushed almost out of my confining undergarment. My terror mounted with the knowledge that the mad womans scalpel was been exact in both breasts and hips, both complimented by the wasplike waist.

If as a male I had seen this goddess, but there was no salute to be had. A slight sensation of wetness between the full thighs brought the realization that she had robbed me completely of any remaining vestiges of manhood! My disgust and trembling was interrupted by the sound of weeping. It was then that I noticed a young girl stretched out upon a narrow bed in the right corner.

Enough of Raymond remained about the eyes and mouth though the rest was womanhood in abundance. Where I was modest in measure, Jenkins was exaggeration.

The bosoms clad in similar garments to mine were more pronounced as were the sharply defined pelvis. I wondered where the raw material, in strange scientific detachment, had been gotten from. Sam noted my curiousity and chuckled softly.

" Just a bit of paraffin inserted to round out our young strumpets bounty. As much as your friend expresses her appreciation for womankind, Francine decided to grant his hearts desires. Of course the flesh is still tender, the wounds more fresh. With the skill of her profession, my lady was able to complete the work for both of you within five weeks."

Only a month! That she could accomplish so much in so short a time. Poor Raymond, still in great pain even as she existed in an opiate induced fog. Once more I became confused by the unconscious correction to address. We were both men at heart, I knew this to be true. I found Sam admiring my exposed body with a mans lust and in return I felt a blush rush to my cheeks.

" If you will follow me now, we’ll let Rowen get her rest. Dr Mullen is most anxious to interview you, my sweet woman. " the condension in his voice reflected the imagined power that this walking abomination believed he had over me now. But it was not as terrible as my entrance into the parlor and the expression on Harolds face as he greeted me.

" Georgina. " he exclaimed with a smile, the ardor behind those eyes amused and frightened me. " What nonsense are you spouting, Harold? " I admonished in that damned melodic voice. " It’s George. Nothing that witch can do will change that. "

" Perhaps so. " interjected Francine, seated nearby. " It is quite confusing to you right now. But the flesh should instruct you if you allow it. Please sit. " at once I found the offered seat pulled back by Longstad and I found a tiny rush of gratitude rising within. I fought it back and sat, naturally moving my body into a womans posture with hands clasped upon my lap.

" Well done. I had hopes that you and Rowen might better adjust than Conner to the new standards impressed upon you. " she cheered as a mother might at her childs first steps. As I observed Longstad by her side I suddenly noted a fear behind my former friends lust. He was attracted to my comely form but seemed horrified and embaressed at the sensation. Harold explained.

" Perhaps the limits of his intellect found the transformation too much to bear. She is quite unhinged, sullen and uncooperative in demeanor. " he told me and I once again came to believe that a terrible flaw was evident in Francines hypothesis. " He was too blunt in his thinking to understand. But error is often the gateway to final success. " laughed my hostess.

Timora offered tea and I found myself holding the cup as proper to young ladies. Hastily I ammended the action to conform to my likes. " I do as I like. " I countered haughtily. " Oh, you are such a spoiled child. But you will find that the world will not accept you as the man you were. But the lesson will be one in delight now that the discipline of pain is past. " lectured the scientist cheerfully.

I could devote scores of pages to the weeks in which Rowe... in which Raymond and I were tricked into unconscious acts of feminine play. But it was a period of time devoted to repetition which my persistant male ego rebelled against. It was my unfortunate companion, deeply shamed by her wanton shape, who grasped eagerly at the attentions of our teachers. She giggled with girlish pleasure at compliments from both Sam and Harold. But at night, when we lay to sleep I found that lovely girl cried in self hate of the genteel role she'd been forced into.

Longstad, for his unforgivable complicity in this nightmare, could not well contain his own shame at allowing the vivisectionist to practice her art upon his best friends. This was compounded by my suspicions that perhaps he had overcome his reluctant chastity to take advantage of Raymonds weakness of ego. But it was by his hand that liberation became possible so a note of gratitude must be noted here.

It was the approaching storm, perhaps some two months after our tranformation, that woke Raymond and I suddenly from uneasy repose. We started at the sound of a key turning in the door lock and feared some fresh mischief from our tormentors. But it was only Harold, a satchel case in hand. He had a look of determination on his now gaunt face and motioned for us to get dressed.

We were offered some of Sams things which the two of us eagerly donned overtop of the womens underclothes. " I have done evil to both of you, my friends. " he explained in low tones. I struggled with the fastenings on my boots as Harold helped Raymond with hers. " It was perhaps the lust I had for Francine that I became accomplice. Perhaps it was fear of what might happen to me if I refused. But whatever reasons, I have done something worse so that we might have a diversion to mask our escape. "

At his urgings we exited the room in great haste as the meaning behind his cryptic statement was revealed to my ears. There was a terrible noise of breaking furniture and womanly screams. As we sought to slip past the open area of the parlor, the three of us spied a female in a rough dress shattering wood and glass in a frantic manic display of rage. The mad creature, formerly our seaman, had been released from prison by Harold who knew that she would seek to strike back at the people who had mutilated her.

All at once another door slammed opened and Sam stood in stunned surprise at the freed lunatic. Distracted by the movement, Conner spied him there and let loose a great cry of anger and madness. With bony fingers extended like talons, the madwoman flew at Henderson who was unable to counter the unexpected attack.

Even as a man, the assistant was overwhelmed by the terrible strength of Conners insanity and he fell heavily against a table. In thier struggle a lamp was overturned and the pair was caught in a sudden blaze which turned the unnatural couple into human torches. Harold firmly grasped the arms of both Raymond and I pulling us toward the front door.

A line of burning oil safely separated us from the horror on the other side of the room and we easily reached our goal without interference. But while Longstad was throwing open the doors, I saw the fire rushing up walls and hungrily gnawing at the curtains and furniture. There in the open portal across that fiery barrier was Dr Mullen!

" You did this! " she screamed barely heard over the deafening roar of the inferno. That was the last word before the burnt supports gave a loud crack as the roof began to collapse. My savior, my friend, pulled us to safety as the structure fell. There was a great leap of flames into the heavily clouded skies while the three of us ran down that jungle trail toward the hoped salvation of the lagoon and the waiting sloop.

It was our own ineptitude at seamanship which nearly killed us. On behalf of Raymond, as I fight to keep that name in my thoughts, and I, it would have been Gods mercy if we had gone down in the blow which rose against us as we cleared the harbor mouth. Weakened by our ordeal, almost broken beneath the scalpel, only Harold was fit to struggle with the torn sail and snarled lines.

I find a small irony in the notion that a storm such as this which brought us into peril would now draw us away from the raging forest fire which swept away all proof of our ordeal. Somehow we were able to navigate the swells even as the water rushed over the sides. Harold keep the bow into the wind but that was enough to prevent the sloop from capsizing.

We were found some forty miles from Mirtan Island, adrift with not enough canvas upon the riggings to use the wind to our advantage. A merchant vessel, on route from the Indes to Plymouth, who drew aboard the two women and lone male. The captain, a rough old salt who bore similarities to our deceased Conner, promised to deliver us back to England.

I would suspect that had Raymond or I not been as Mullen had made us, his manner might have been less chivalrous. But it was not the burly captain nor his brutish crew who were cause for alarm. That was reserved for the so called civilized men of rank, the authorities to whom we told our tale to much skepticism.

It was in the custody of both navel and government officials that Arthur found me, though he did not recognize his brother at first beneath the comely guise. It was the subject of much laughter on the part of my interrogators that I refused womans clothes and kept my face unadorned of paint. Raymond was less reluctant in his acceptance of the offered garb. His mind did remember the man he once was but could not reconcile the past with this form he now wore.

I can not say what finally unhinged Harold, shattering his spirit under the heavy yoke of guilt at his betrayal of friends and too late initiative in saving us from further torment. His fall came under the frantic declarations as to the truth behind Raymonds and my testimony, the logic of his words falling into rants which strengthened the negative opinions of officers and doctors.

What I said to Arthur which finally convinced him of my true identity can not be repeated in full. It did concern a moment in his youth which involved a girl he adored and the manner in which he released his passions with myself as unseen witness. This joined with the cursory examination by the six physicians who came up with several questions they could not answer.

First was the fact that both Raymond and I showed evidence of extensive scarring where I indicated earlier in this document. Upon further exploration, which I submitted to with great suspicion that the males found too much interest in poking the faux female anatomy, they also found evidence of trauma to our skeletal structure. The ungainly knit was found only with deliberate investigation of legs and arms.

It was proof enough for my brother but not for the authorities who became uneasy when I demanded a new expedition set out at once for Mirtan to find the incontrovertible final evidence of our capture and transformation. Only the presence of a prominant lawyer in the room stopped the cynics from uttering cruel comments on the imaginings of women. It took much coaxing on Arthurs’ part before they agreed that perhaps the request might be honored if a ship could be found already in transit for that region.

My brother, Raymond and I, were given leave to return to London as long as he vouched for our whereabouts. In preparation for the short journey home, my confused friend exchanged the uniform of our ordeal for fresh female grab. It would have taken one who had been with us to tell this bountiful buxom woman had ever been anything but what she appeared. To Arthurs displeasure, I remained in shirt, vest and coat, as well as loose trousers. I did concede to the corset and bloomers beneath to restrain my breasts from vulgar motion.

Raymond did stay with my brother and I in our tiny two bedroom flat for a short time. He, Arthur, recieved word from the Government House some time later that our asked for expedition had found Mirtan Island completely deserted. That fire begun by Conners mad rampage had destroyed everything and forced the evacuation of the native population to an undisclosed location. No papers, no instruments, no odd cadavers in the ruins.

My own fate was sealed when Arthur, in an attempt to help me reconcile myself to my situation, began to insist that I cease the eccentric embracing of the masculine. " I might well believe your story, Georgin... George, but others are less inclined to. If you keep on, you will demolish any hope that the truth will be told. " declared my older sibling.

" But you believe me. Please say that you do. " I demanded softly. That the government and my peers would not mattered little if my only contact with my past denied me. The struggle of his words made my forced feminine thoughts produce salty streaks upon the freshly painted cheeks.

" I.... I do believe that you believe. It is enough for me. " he finally blurted out. It was not long after that I embraced the external role that Dr Mullen had given me. Arthur, almost in relief, stretched his resources to provide the wardrobe and accessories for this shapely guise. But beneath the bodice and crinolin fabric, George Stanton remained untouched.

Raymond did not share my determination, gone as he... she was to embracing her womanhood in such a wanton manner that Arthur ejected her from the flat. I do confess that my resorting to womanly tears did turn my brother so that he offered a small allowance for Rowen to obtain suitable quarters. But only a few weeks after she left us, Rowen was found among the whores in Camdentown.

I could not find enough confidence to bring her home again, not with Harold behind Asylum walls. If the fates had decided to destroy us for some presumption unsuspected, who was I to tempt even worse retribution? But something inside persisted. Some hidden resource which demanded that I deny myself any possible happiness so that some reason might be found for this horror. As that great tome of the sea did declare; ' I alone live to tell the tale. '

Last Entry In Journal

( These pages had been found in an antique chest, laying amidst womens clothes, a small jewelry box as well as some photo plates. The furniture and contents, belonging to Arthur Stanton, were sold at auction in 1954 at Sotherbys. The Barrister to the Court Of St James did deny any questions concerning the disappearance of his scientist brother on that fateful trip to the Marianas. Of the female companion who shared his quarter, Stanton insisted that she was simply a distant cousin from his mothers side.

( The truth behind the fiction was that a school of medicine, radical in its opinion, did exist during the time period mentioned. Vivisectionists, outside of the conventions pertaining to gross anatomical sciences, believed that behavior was linked directly with the physical. Pain did not simply produce elementary response but promoted a completely altered set of behaviors.

( H.G. Wells, working from different factual bases, produced a horrific text in 1896 entitled ' The Island Of Dr Moreau. ‘ which took the concept to radical extremes. That such a man really existed or that such radical surgery as described might bring about the changes implied is grist for much debate. As with such speculation, let the text speak for itself. )

Way Zim, April 25th 1997

 

 

© 1997
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