the artist

*x-rated* Happy (belated) Halloween!
______________________________

it squirms.

he can hear the shifting… the thrashing, coming from the next room… faint, but unmistakable.

******
he had left the door ajar after his last visit a couple of hours ago, figuring he would need some time to prepare, to get into an artistic state of mind.

he had been right.
******

a delicious treat awaits him.

muffled whimpers in the darkness. how they reverberate off the walls… through the cold, dank cellar.

music.
the sweetest music of all.

he closes his eyes, inhales the familiar scents.
stone, disinfectant, mold, rotting wood… and something sweet, metallic.
blood.
the tickling, tingling scent of blood, barely noticeable, still lingers in the stale air.
he savors it, slight smile curling the corner of his mouth.
soon, there would be more.

much more.

******
he had forgiven himself.

he hadn’t been strong enough. strong enough to resist.
earlier, he had taken the knife to its left calf; just a quick cut. not too deep.
he had longed for it.
craved it.

he had cursed himself for not being strong enough to resist, but after seeing the precious, deep dark Red welling up, trickling down pale skin, he had forgiven himself. earnestly.

after all, he was only human. he had his faults, his weaknesses.
life blood.
divinity.
all mortals falter, facing the divine. he was no exception.
******

he checks his arsenal one last time, runs loving fingers over every single piece.

syringe.
butterfly knife.
tweezers.
his variety of scalpels.
rubber tube.
bandage scissors.
razor blades.
rib retractor.
soldering iron.

cleaned and polished to perfection.
he had even oiled the serving cart’s little wheels – last time, the squeaking sound had ruined the mood. he would not have it this time.

one last, deep breath.
anticipation causes his fingers to shake, but he steels his nerves.
he would not let it see him tremble.
it might laugh, might scorn him… and he doesn’t want to make quick work.
no… he waited too long for this.
he will take his time.

he steps over to the door, swings it open.
he flicks on the lights, keeps his eyes on the ground.

not yet. do not look at it yet. restrain yourself!

the wheels of his serving cart do not distract him this time.
he did a good job. no squeaking.
perfect.
he maneuvers the cart with his precious tools over to the operating table.
slowly, he lifts his eyes, takes in the sight.

it hadn’t soiled itself… yet.
good.

a little spittle had escaped the corner of its mouth, running along the gag, down the side of its face.
not bad, it can be wiped away.

the fastenings at its wrists and ankles hadn’t broken the skin.
the padding has done its job.

learn from your mistakes.
he smiles.

carefully, he removes the small bandage he had applied to the small cut in its calf a few hours ago. a faint whiff of dried blood makes him shiver briefly.
it winces at his touch.
the cut looks clean, barely visible.
he sighs in relief.

it isn’t spoiled.

he stares at it for a little while, takes in the delicious scent of fear… sees it thrash, the movement limited by the firm grip of padded steel… enjoys the terror, the agony, reflected in its eyes.
naked perfection.
a clean canvas for his artwork.

he picks the smallest scalpel of them all, takes it into his now steady hand.

start slow…
right side of the navel. what an intriguing spot.

to its muffled cries, he begins his work.

he would paint the world red.
he would bathe in divinity… tonight.

*******************************************************************************************************
I am surprised to encounter the disgusting things that seem to be hidden in my mind. Too many Horror Movies perhaps… but hey, allowed on Halloween, right?!  Hope you “enjoyed” this twisted piece – as much as something this disgusting can be enjoyed…

photo credits: placentalyposuction.bandcamp.com

Advertisements