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He cut through her engorged belly to the child underneath. A cut to the child’s stomach reveals another child within. And so on for hours.
Each nail was removed with a screwdriver, each tooth with a hammer. They were all put back by hand.
The frog dissection was canceled. Instead, it was vivisection on frogs genetically altered to scream, even for hours after death.
He cut off his male reproductive organ and crammed it inside her woman's genitals. He sewed it closed with needle and thread. “I’ll always be with you.”
Bones cracked and broke, the body deformed. It was tight, but with one foot reaching her stomach he knew he’d crawl in and reach her heart.
It was the first mbum murder in space. It was the first time man floated as cloud in a surrounding sky of blood.
Dead animals couldn’t run away, she knew. The same must apply to dead lovers.
Jones worked at the morgue. It’s where he learned to be an excellent kisser.
He cried after he killed her. He had only meant to shoot the gestating child, but the bullet kept traveling up and up.
Byron was a tit man. They used to belong to Jessica, Annie and Claire, but a sharp knife and expert stitching made them his now.
|Posted On: 07/29/2010 2:17PM||View PhineasPoe's Profile | #|