Gore Galore

Sometimes, one may believe, the sins of the past will crumble the future.

For lesser beings, perhaps this was true.

Lustful crimson tainting virgin white.

The cut of the silver that brings nightmares to life

The unadulterated fear that swims in innocent eyes.

To the weak, it would slowly kill them.

To her, it left her lusting for more.

The pristine cool steel of the table, haunted by the blood, bile, and feces of the last bright eyed youth who ended in a degrading mess of themselves, was once again untainted.

Sterile, clean.

The decomposing mockery of what had once been alive, was once again replaced by yet another helpless child, defenseless, unknowing of the demise that awaited.

The masked woman did not mind, for the breaking of innocence was the most entertaining of it all.

Quietly, she walked over, a bucket of ice and water in her steady, strong hands.

She placed it next to his head, before unmercifully grabbing his hair and dunking him in.

Blue eyes shot open, a panicked inhale inviting the icy water through his mouth and lungs, choking him.

His newly awakened, panicked body writhed and jerked to no avail, he was secured fast and at the mercy of the cruel hand holding him down.

The cold splinters of frozen water scratched his unmarked cheeks, numbing and prickling all at once as the frail skin began to give.

Tiny scratches adorned his face as he was yanked back out, sharp cool air slapping him as he gagged and choked, water dripping out of his gaping mouth.

“Utamara Mae,” A woman’s clipped voice spoke softly, sharply in the silent room,”You were chosen to be conducted under a series of experiments that will not be pleasant, but I assure you, they will be unforgettable.”

“Who are you?” His voice was raspy, wheezing from the harsh scratch of ice and freezing water that had recently tore through his throat.

“My name is of no concern,” She brushes off, grabbing his arm harshly, jabbing a needle into his vein without a second glance.

Utamara cried out, struggling to get back his arm as what looked to be an I.V began pumping amber liquid.

“I prefer to use a single dose with my experiments,” She mumbled in distaste as she held fast onto his quickly bruising skin, “But, unfortunately this will require little struggle in order to keep you alive for long enough to finish through.”

“What do you mean experiments?” The pink haired boy tried to gather his wits, yet his muscles were quickly laxing, his mind sluggish through the haze that was forced upon him.

“Humans, are such ugly creatures, don’t you think?” The woman ignored him, “Disgusting creatures, greedy and so cruel, yet, somehow, they can endure so much.”

She patted his cheek, to which he felt in hypersensitivity, a realization that created a heavy sense of dread in his chest.

“My life’s purpose, is to test the limitations and relish in the agony that pulses in their veins as I force them to see, how absolutely horrific, humanity can be.”

Utamara could hardly twitch his finger at this point, too dazed to be panicked, too detached to give into fear, yet feeling every single breath.

Her cool eyes scanned him, lifting his limp hand for any sort of movement or reaction.

The texture of her gloves shouldn’t be felt in such detail for being so heavily drugged.

She caught his eye and smiled, “Confused? It’s my experimental drug I’m trying. It acts as a paralysis without depriving you of sensation, in fact, I’m working on it multiplying the feelings. You’re the first experiment in testing it! Tell me, Utamara, how does it feel?”

Quick as a snake, a flash of silver cut across his eyes, slicing in the lax flesh of his arm, burning like liquid fire that travelled through his veins and gushed with the rivulets of blood that burst out as if every drop had been waiting for this moment, lurking beneath the surface.

His face jerked sporadically, desperately trying to contort in pain, but unable to do more than twitch with the drugs coursing in his veins as a strangled sound was torn from his throat.

The woman, holding a now bloody scalpel, frowned at him, forcing his mouth open and prodding at the back of his throat with the edge of the tool.

His lungs were burning in their need for air as she cut off his air, finally pulling back with a long sigh, “I was hoping your vocal cords would be numbed, damn.”

His breath caught at the look of pure rage on what showed from above the mask, eyes glowing, hands trembling, unadulterated fury, at just his barely there ability to scream before it melted into contemplation.

She stood back, to the silver tray where her instruments laid ready.

After a moment, she picked up thin, wire-like string, and a pointed needle.

The masked woman gave him an apologetic look, “Usually I prefer to cut out the tongue, but I cannot risk you losing that amount of blood, you understand, right? It’s not preferred or very effective, but it should silence you at least somewhat.”

The cold feeling of absolute fear returned as she set the string through the needle, and sat next to his head.

The frigid point touch the bottom of his lip.

She huffed a laugh at the other gurgled screaming as she pushed the metal through, catching on excess skin and stained by blood, “Really, it’s your fault I have to do this. If you would just be quiet I wouldn’t have to silence you. You should be happy that I’m only doing this much, don’t be so ungrateful Utamara,” She paused, the needle halfway through his upper lip, “In fact, I want you to thank me.”

He stared at her with watery eyes of disbelief.

“Thank me,” She repeated, eyes glinting with amusement, “I want you to thank me.”

They sat in silence until a look of annoyance crossed her face, “Until you thank me, every minute that passes by will be documented by detaching one of your teeth, the time starts now.”

The lax muscles in his neck and mouth were struggling to do so much as twitch, his vocal cords completely numb.

“Tick tock,” She mumbled, reaching over a picking up a small pair of pliers like they were fine china.

“Th-han,” Utamara chokes on the words, panicking the closer she came.

She gripped his chin, shaking her head as if scolding a child, “That’s one.”

Tears spilled down his cheeks as his mouth was yanked open, the cold metal clamping onto his canine.

He looked into her eyes and begged whatever power to find humanity in them, and for her to stop.

She met his gaze and smiled.

A vicious tearing exploded with pain as she yanked, the tooth twisting in the gums that seeped blood.

Her grip on the pliers slipped, nearly taking out another tooth before she was holding and twisting it again.

Dully, Utamara heard himself screaming, but the burning fire was consuming his awareness, it hurt, it hurt, it hurt.

He felt the gum clinging to his tooth stretch and try to pull back, fighting a losing battle against the masked, mad woman.

Finally the gum tore, cascading with blood that ran to the back of his throat as she yanked the tooth out.

She shoved him on his side as she admired the tooth, turning it every which way as if it was a finely crafted jewel instead of something she viciously tore from his mouth.

“Don’t you have something to say?” The woman tilted her head as he coughed up the blood.

“T-Thank, ‘ou,” He slurred between rage, terror, and pain.

“Good,” She smiled, picking up the needle and thread once again, “Now hold still.”

Compared to the sensation of his tooth being yanked out, this was almost like a pinch, with only the fear holding as his lips were sewn shut.

She patted his cheek, glove still stained with his blood and smearing across his face,

“Now,” Her eyes twinkled, “We can finally begin.”

She picked up something he didn’t recognize, but lit a flame of fear in his chest.

She noticed his look and laughed, “This Utamara, is what you will be experimented on. Do you know what it is?”

She placed the cool metal onto the connection of his arm and shoulder, gently pushing up his shirt, and pressing the sharp edge down as she placed her hand in the grip.

The woman leaned down and quietly spoke into his ear, “This, is a bone saw.”

The first cut sent a burning pain so hot that it numbed him for a second.

He blinked up at the ceiling, noticing the scream couldn’t escape him, dwelling in the back of his throat, unable to thrash or sob, struggle or curse.

Completely helpless.

Utamara realized, he wasn’t leaving this alive.

The silver stuck into his bone, simultaneously burning and freezing, that sent his body in a frenzy, trying to move.

She sawed back and forth, the sound of metal cutting against bone, a grinding sound that made him sick.

A sudden deep jerk into the bone sent roaring pain with a vengeance, his mouth fought to open, only succeeding in his lips tearing against the stitches, blood staining thread.

Nausea was pooling in his stomach, he fought it, knowing it would only be able to go back down as she gave another vicious cut.

The sudden loss of weight and thud onto the table sent tears streaming down his face as he felt a wail building in his throat.

Splatters of blood touched his cheek, sinew and bone bits crumbling onto the table as the phantom sensation of his arm haunted him, where nothing but a bloody stump was left.

The woman had a look of excitement on her face as she lifted the jaggedly cut arm, before her eyes flickered to the quickly bleeding appendage.

She picked up a long, flat metal going over to a burner and heating it up until it burned golden.

Utamara felt his head twitching, trying to violently shake as he realized what she was going to-

He screamed, stitches tearing the skin of his lip off as the guttural noise escaped him.

The woman ignored him, pressing burning metal to the raw wound.

When she finally pulled away, he was sobbing, the scent of burned flesh was in the air, muscles twitching with the incomprehensible pain.

“St...op,” He begged.

She picked up the bone saw and began to cut through his other arm.

Grating bone.

Putrid blood.

Flesh burning.

He watched in a detached manner as she neatly sawed off his arm, moving to his legs.

She cut through his upper thigh, absentmindedly he realized he was begging and sobbing for it to stop.

She didn’t listen.

The bone was tougher here, fighting every slide, every grind, every cut.

Ending only with a snap.

A guttural scream left his throat, but she didn’t pause, causterizing and removing the other leg despite his begging.

She smiled, gathering the dismember limbs onto a tray.

“You did very well Utamara.”

Nothing left but a head connected to a torso.

“In fact, you did so well, I’ll give you a choice.”

Phantom sensation of limbs gone.

“You can die of dehydration and starvation.”

Abandoning him to the bloody table.

“Or you can find a way to shoot yourself.”

She laid a gun on the table next to his head, removing his I.V.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” She chirped, “I can't wait to see what you choose.”

Tears ran down his face, breaths coming in shorts pants as he hyperventilated.

Kill me.

“You gave me such fun new toys.”

Kill me.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself.”

Kill me.

“I’ll be sure to stop by, next week,” She beamed and pushed the tray on a cart out of the room.

The masked woman waved to the dismembered boy with the gun next to his head, and left him to decide his own death.