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Rated: GC · Other · Other · #1679787
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"Can you see the sphinx from there?" The man gurgled a response through his blood filled lungs, struggling against his bonds in a futile attempt. I took it as a yes. "Can you even imagine what it must have looked like when it wasn't nearly destroyed? When it was in it's prime?" There was still no response and i realized, laughing a little louder then was necessary, that the man couldn't breathe strapped to the crude wooden cross I had made for him. I'd taken the wooden block that supported his weight away and his body was crushing his lungs.

"I'm sorry, I forgot you were dying. We can't have that, can we" I grabbed his calf, and in a fit of superhuman strength lifted him up as I slid the block beneath his feet. His breathing got more ragged, not less, as his body screamed at his lungs to suck in an incredibly impossible amount of air. He'd be fine in a few minutes, if he lived that long.

"You people.. you are incredible, you know that?" I glared at him. "Not in the good way, mind you. I came here years ago hoping to find a place where I could belong, a place where sacred things remained sacred. And now, just look." I waved my hand at the sphinx, a giant looming over the both of us. "You have no idea what this place meant to the person who built it. It's nothing more than a way to make money for you." The man tried to say something, and in my anger I hit him. Hard. It wasn't on purpose, and I felt his ribs crack underneath my fist.

"I'm sorry I hit you, but this is all your fault, you realize. You had the power to stop this, to preserve the past, to save the people who have to die now. But you didn't, did you?" I shook my head in disgust and pace around him. "You dig up the bodies of your own dead. Your own ancestors! All in the name of science. All the while hoping you won't be dug up yourself some day." He let out a cry, part pain and fear. Such a weak man.

"You had your chances. There were warning. Now..." I stopped pacing, grabbed him by his hair and pulled his head as far forward as his neck would physically allow. "now you'll have to die. And after you, well, we'll have to see how long it takes them to stop me." I let his head go back gently, smoothing the hair from his face like a mother would a child. He spit in my face to repay me. so, i kicked the block from under him and watched him flail like a fish. It was funny until he passed out.

I let him sleep while I prepared. A camera and tape for the media. Bolt cutters and knives for my own entertainment. And a little music to set the mood. When I had finished I turned the camera on and stepped into frame, hoping that myth about it adding ten pounds was just that: a myth. Then I began to cut off his fingers. Just one at a time, until he'd woken up. A horrible way to wake up, I bet.

"I'm sorry for the camera, but there needs to be no doubt about what is going to happen."

There's only so much trauma the body can take, and I tried to keep that in mind as I cut off the rest of his fingers and toes. He stayed awake for most of it, and I was happy to see he could take quite a bit of punishment. When I started to carve off pieces of his flesh I was disappointed in him. I had barely taken off both his calves and he was out again. He must be squeamish.

A chime on the camera announced I was out of tape and, sadly I put down my knives. "Well, Mister president our time has run out it seems." The bloody mass that was once a man could barely lift his head. "I understand you think it's unfair, but if you just knew..." I pulled up close to his head do he could hear a whisper.

[i]"Can you keep a secret? Good!"[/i]

I pulled away and pulled my coat off, enjoying the shocked look of horror on his face, which dropped into an understanding sadness at the gun in my hand. "See? Now you understand why it has to be here at the Sphinx. Because, the last time I was in Cairo, I built it." The sun had begun to rise, the wind was blowing. It was a painting with no artist to paint it. I fired the gun.
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