Deranged Lunatics ... EvilEntity's Story - The Surgeon - Please Read & Add Next Chapter!

Deranged Lunatics ... EvilEntity's Story - The Surgeon - Please Read & Add Next Chapter!

HatchetGirl's picture

EvilEntity has started a story for us.  Read the chapter and add the next, and so on and so on and so on and we'll see what we end up with.  Enjoy!

THE SURGEON - CHAPTER 1
by EvilEntity

I didn't ask for this curse or gift, or whatever the hell it is.  I mean being able to communicate with god and the devil.  Damn, talk about a headache!
Think about it....... like having a mini devil and a mini god on your shoulder all the time, I know it sounds like an old TV show but this ain't prime time bitch.... The weird thing is good/evil, it's actually pretty much the same thing. Keeping balance and all.
It's like a sick board game between god and satan, and believe me it's one helluva game.  Just plain fucked up if you ask me.  Another weird rule to the game is they don't control us..... FREE WILL remember??  Thay can only influence us or as Lou puts it tempt us.
But enough about those clowns,,,Perhaps I should introduce myself. My name is Jayson and I'm an inmate at a high security penitentiary.  I guess I'm what you little piggies would call a serial killer.  Bad choice of word play though, I rather enjoy cereal.  Can you imagine a guy stabbing his bowl of rice krispies? That always makes me laugh!
But enough, I'm rambling, sorry about that.  but back to me..Like I said my name is Jayson, but you piggies probley know me from the news as The Surgeon.
Oh yes there was blood............................
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zigzag528's picture

I can remember being a kid and always being curious about death and dismemberment....I started out crucifying frogs to 2 by 4's, or torturing the neighborhood cats....This grew old very soon...I began reading all the medical journals I could get my hands on...I was starved for knowledge of the human anatomy....Absolutely fascinated by it...

This retard lived down the street from us...I figured, what the hell, who's gonna miss a retard? I'm somewhere in the neighborhood of 17, maybe 18 years old...Walking down the street getting high on some killer ganjji, when who do you think I see coming my way? Yep, the retard...I start up a conversation with this clown, all the while thinking of just what I'm gonna do to his overweight dumb ass...

As we head into the woods, he's walking in front of me...Quickly I grasp his mouth with my left hand as my right hand cuts his throat with my trusted Swiss Army knife...I release my grasp and he quickly falls to his knees, then face down in the dirt...I could smell the blood, rust, that's what it smelled like,rusty old metal....He attempted to make some noise, but it was useless...He was gone inside of 45 seconds....Flopping around, holding his throat, looking up at me like one of Jerry's kids looking for a fuckin' donation....I kicked him a couple times just for the hell of it...I couldn't believe how great I felt afterwards...It was like a spiritual release of demons that were pinned up inside my very soul....It wasn't very pretty, it wasn't very surgical, but I knew then, that it was just the beginning...I would soon hone my new found pleasure into an art form....

Soon, the whole world would know of the surgeon....

Lucifer5's picture

Oh I was bad and careless at first. I would begin planning a kill and draw up a plan but once blood started to spill and the adrenaline ran high I had little control over my actions. I had to much fun and didn't wanna to stop for nothing.

I most likely would have been caught pretty quick if I didn't start hearing the voices. I guess after you waste enough human lives, the higher up take notice and invite themselves to the party...

I remember the first time it happened. It was about 2 weeks after I killed the retard, I had 11 other deaths on my hand and was hungry for more! I had just split some farmer's skull with his own axe after I came across him chopping wood in his backyard, his splattered blood was still fresh on my boot and I heard a car pull up in the driveway. I looked around but there was nowhere to hide. Empty fields for miles. Even if I ran, they'd see me long before I could get out of sigh. I panicked and ran for the shed. I had the feeling I had done something very bad. Something I shouldn't have and that I wouldn't get away with it. I was so confused coz those feeling were totally estranged to my habits. My throat was thight, I felt defeated and as I hid in the darkness of the dead man's shed, I actually had thoughts of surrendering myself. I sat on the dirty floor, trying to make sense of it all...what the fuck happened to me? I felt a headache coming on. It got real bad real fast, made my face cringe until all I could focus on were the cinging sensation assaulting my brain. I heard a voice. I thought someone was outside but it called me by name... I opened my eyes, looking around as quietly as I could. There were people outside but they were too far to be what I was hearing...

I held my breath and listened. I heard the voice again, each word like acid in my head. It hurt my eyes, it hurt my teeth, it made my skull want to collapse on itself! But it also snapped me back to my old self, made me realised that the fear and anxiety I was feeling a few minutes ago weren't coming from me. It pissed me off! I had never felt that way before and I had no business feeling that way now!

I could hear in my head how to get away from here. I heard where the scythe was hanging to my left and when the optimum time to jump out would be in order to eliminate the 2 new intruders. It told me things. Guided me. I didn't have to listened but why wouldn't I? We seemed to have a similar agenda. I knew the first person was the dead man's wife and the second, his 6 year old son. I sliced the son's head off and ripped the wife's abdomen open. Nobody else would be coming here for weeks I was told so I dragged all 3 of my victmes in the farmhouse and over the following days, had all of their organs individually pinned to the wall with a sticky note to see if I could name them all. I compared male to female organs, young growing organs to fully matured ones, replaced all the damaged ones from the female body with the good ones from her husbands - btw, they didn't all fit... and when the 3 coyotes came to investigate the smell of blood and raw meet a few days later, I shot 2, sliced them open and attempted to create my own werewolf from all those mismatched bodyparts. I felt so alive, so in control, nothing else I had ever experience compared to this!

I became more familiar with the acid voice and realise that in fact, there were 2 voices I could hear. The second one was much more subtle and less intrusive. It spoke less with words and more in feelings.When it did use words, it was very booming. Like hollow echoe in my head accompanied by this weird sense of vastness. I had to shut out the rest of the world around me or I'd get a sensory overload and blackout! I had very little use for THAT voice.

sakbeerslayer365's picture

...I GUESS YOU ALWAYS REMEMBER YOUR FIRST,IF ITS YOUR FIRST FUCK OR YOUR FIRST KILL,IT REMAINS SPECIAL.ITS SOMETHING THAT STAYS WITH YOU.IT NEVER GOES AWAY EVEN IF YOU TRY TO BLEED IT OUT OF YOUR MEMORY,IT TINGLES IN YOUR MIND LIKE A BAD ITCH.LOVE CAN BE LIKE THAT SOMETIMES TOO.I RECALL WHEN THE URGE TO KILL FIRST MADE ME AWARE OF MY TRUE PURPOSE IN LIFE.TEENAGE YEARS OF SOMEWHAT INNOCENT SEXUAL EXPLORATION,USUALLY ENDING IN ABJECT FAILURE,TEARS AND RIPPED PANTIES AS A MEMENTO TO MY EVOLVING MADNESS.THE PAIN I WOULD INFLICT SOON BECAME THE KEY THAT UNLOCKED MY SECRET DOOR.RUNNING THE TIP OF MY KNIFE OVER THE SOFT PULSATING FLESH,NOT DRAWING BLOOD,BUT INSTILLING FEAR,THAT WAS,AT THE TIME,THE TURN ON.MY VIOLENT FANTASIES SOON TURNED MUCH DARKER AS I WAS DRIVEN TO ACT THEM OUT.I HONED MY SKILLS WITH SMALL ANIMALS,THE KNIFE PLUNGING INTO THEIR SUPPLE FURRY BODES AS THEIR DEATH-THROES RANG IN MY EARS LIKE SUNDAY CHURCH BELLS.I LONGED FOR LARGER PREY.MY HUNGER FOR FLESH GREW.I NEEDED A CATHARSIS TO FEED MY MADNESS..AND I FOUND IT.PAMELA WAS A VERY HUNGRY GIRL.I MET HER AT A BAR ,STRUCK UP A CONVERSATION,BOUGHT HER A FEW DRINKS AND GOT TO KNOW HER,PAID FOR HER DINNER,A FEW MORE DRINKS AND I REALIZED SHE WAS MINE.SHE HAD OBVIOUS AMOROUS INTENTIONS.WE LEFT THE BAR ARM IN ARM AND STARTED KISSING.IT WAS RAINING AND THE AIR WAS ALMOST ELECTRIC WITH THE AROMA OF RAW FLESH AND THE SWEET PERFUME OF AROUSAL.SHE PULLED MY FACE INTO HER HEAVING CHEST AND CALLED ME DADDY.BEGGING ME FOR KISSES.OUR BODIES NOW SOAKED WITH RAIN AND SWEAT..IN THE HEAT OF PASSION I PULLED THE KNIFE OUT OF MY JACKET POCKET AND SLOWLY SLID IT UP HER BELLY AS I HAD DONE MANY TIMES BEFORE.THIS TIME WOULD NOT BE REHEARSAL.WITH THE TIP OF THE BLADE POISED AT HER BELLY BUTTON I GAVE HER A LONG AND VERY DEEP KISS.WITH AN UPWARD THRUST THE BLADE ENTERED HER BODY AND A SHUDDER SHOOK HER,MORE FROM SHOCK ITHINK,BUT IT SEEMED ALMOST ORGASMIC.AS THE BLOOD FLOWED FROM HER MOUTH I GAVE HER A FINAL KISS AND TASTED HER ESSENCE.

..OK GOOD ENOUGH?

sakbeerslayer365's picture

..HER BODY WAS SO LOVELY THAT I COULD NOT HELP MYSELF .MY BLOOD-SLICKED HANDS CARRESED HER AS SHE QUIVERED AND DIED,OUR LIPS LOCKED TOGETHER IN A TRUE KISS OF DEATH.I WANTED TO SEE ALL OF HER.EVERY CURVE,ALL THAT SHE HAD..INSIDE AND OUT.I QUICKLY REMOVED HER SHIRT AND SAW THE MESS THAT I HAD MADE.HER BREASTS JIGGLED AS I GUTTED HER.AS I TOYED WITH HER OGANS I FELT LIKE I HAD COMPLETED MYSELF,FINALLY FULLFILLED FANTASY.AS I CARVED OUT CERTAIN PIECES..FOR KEEPSAKES..I REALIZED THAT I HAD NOT DONE ALL THAT I COULD.HER STILL WARM SEEPING BODY WAS TOO TEMPTING..YES I DID.

Horror_me6's picture

I had fucked that lifeless supple body, caving in on my desired fantasies. Oh the flesh as it stiftened the longer and harder I went on. Until she was like a stick. Pinned in a parted position. Stomach spilt under her shredded body, dried blood on both our pale lips.

God she was beautiful with no eyes.

It was after that incident I realized women were my forte. I enjoyed their innocence they just naturally carried. Children, little girls particularily. However, they were always hard to come by. Constantly with their parents, and as the years passed on and kidnappings grew they took higher measures to secure their precious little princesses.

I stuck to prostitutes for nearly a year. Still a young man, I could handle them so easily. They put up such pathetic attempts people would call a fight.

I was careful. I made them wear gloves. Told them I liked how it felt against my manhood. Stupid whores.

I carved their faces first. From the top to the bottom I worked. Using instruments which provoked my name for the media.

The Surgeon.

Rolls off the tongue, doesn't it?

zigzag528's picture

After the fiasco at the farm, I realized I had to slow things down a bit...I also realized you can't make your own werewolf...But it was extremely interesting trying...I was paying closer attention to the voices...They calmed me down during my more anxious times...Saved me from getting caught on several occasions... The dectectives were getting very nosey around the neighborhood, and the voices told me it was time to relocate...You can't shit in your own back yard they would say...I needed a big city...Somewhere I could blend in...Walk amongst the dead undetected, unnoticed...The piggies around me oblivious to the actions of the surgeon....

Twelve homicides in two weeks was bringing way too much unnecessary heat down on me....I could never have that much fun again...It was time to relax, and get good at what I did...I started by renting a large storage facility, moved my medical supplies in and began setting up shop...It was perfect....Large, soundproof, and sterile...With its own little drain going straight into the sewer system....A couple nights on the prowl and the time will be right...Playtime is at hand...

As he staggered from the phone booth and headed for his car, I thought, this is too easy...He stopped short of the curb and spewed bile and beer from his guts all over the street...Time to make a move...."You look like you could use some help," I said. "Thank you good sir, not too many kind people around these parts," he replied. They were the last words he would ever speak...The chloroform soaked rag was on his face with a quickness and ease that surprised even me...He was sound asleep in 5 seconds...

After returning to the "lab" as I like to call it, I undressed him completely and threw his drunken mass onto the stainless steel table...My first step was to super glue his lips together...Once his hair was removed, in a manner not far from the way Native American warriors would have done it, the access to his brain was unlimited...The frontal lobe was first to go...I tilted the table so as to keep the flow of blood running into the drain, and after removing the gray brain matter, pulling the eyes out from the inside was nowhere near as tricky as it sounds...

Make an incision from the top of the center chest line, down to the naval, then I'd reach under the rib cage and yank the lungs out to where they would be sitting on top of the rib cage...A most beautiful display..The ancient Vikings used this method as torture...They called it the "Bloody Eagle"...Absolutely magnificent....This is what made everything worth wild...Then it was on to more important business...Remove the hands and feet, switch them around....Put the testicles where the eyes belong, and always be sure to completely remove the penis...I'd just throw it away....It drove the police shrinks, and FBI profilers crazy insane...I would imagine rooms full of experts trying to figure out my next move....

When all was done, and I'd had all the fun I could stand, I'd carry the body someplace very public and wait for dawn to break...I'd comeback to my lab, clean up a bit and just wait for the news on the latest victim of the Surgeon...Latest, but not the last.....

EvilEntity's picture

Oct 17th, 1998

         Stop taking my meds today, they never helped anyway. At least I dont think thay did. Thay allways make my thoughts cloudy, and I would much rather have a clear mind, especialy with school n all. Half the time my memory of the last days lesson is so jumbled up, I have to spend hours n hours reserching the same thing over and over again. I guess that really dosnt matter that much anyway seeing I basicly have no social life. Med school can be very demanding you know.

Ok Back to studdying.

EvilEntity's picture

Oct 19th 1998

  My mind is much clearer now. Im feeling the overwelming swarm of emotions that I had long forgotten. My sence of smell, taste, even touch are better than thay have been for at least 18 years.

I did have some strange feelings in class today though,,,,probably just withdraw from all the shit those Crack Pot docters had me on.Stupid sons of bitches, think thay know whats going on in my head. How could thay,,its MY FUCKING HEAD............

EvilEntity's picture

Oct 20th 1998

  FUCK FUCK SHIT SHIT FUCK EVERYTHING GOD DAMN IT!!!!!!!Overwelming anger....SHIT FUCKKKKK

MAKE IT STOP GOD DAMN IT>>>>>>FUCK ME>>>>>>>>>HELP

babygurl8324's picture

I am sitting on this dusty bed now.  Some out of the way hotel.  Far from prying eyes and ears.  "Shut Up!  Just shut the fuck up!"  My consious, my angel.  Do I even have a consious anymore?  This can't be wrong.  Something deep down tells me, enforces in my mind that this is all so very right.  These voices are always yelling at me.  Then there are the ones that are so calming.  The only time they stop is when my very essence melds with another.  Damn!  I swear to fucking God that I can see their souls leave their bodies as their eyes glaze over.  Where do they go I wonder?  It's painful most of the time.  To see their corpses lying there where they lay.  Sometimes it is overwhelming.  I can't help it.  Most of the time, it feels like I don't want to.  Maybe that's why I leave the rose bud on their mutilated bodies.  Maybe there is something that feels remorse?  Fuck, I don't know anymore.

"Shut the fuck up!  I swear I will kill you now!  Shut the fuck up I say!"  That little bitch in the bathroom keeps trying to scream through the duct tape over her mouth.  She can't scream, but I can't stand that gagging, gurgling noise she is making. 

I don't know why I took this one.  I hate her.  She looks like..her.  I have always hated her.  As far as I can remember.  Perhaps it is because of her that I am so screwed up?

Dust flies up around me as I get up off the bed..I make my way toward the bathroom.  I am going to cut this bitches head off slowly.  I wonder if her screaming will sound like that of a pig as I cut into her larnyx, or will she have passed out by loss of blood first?  I am dying to know

 

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