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

   no reason to be crude. it might be prudent to prove myself a charitable host before the evening's entertainment began.

   i sat on the cold tile floor of the bathroom directly adjacent to her. bound as she was by physical terror and twine, we sat for a moment meeting mutual gazes. it was the first time i had ever seen my own soul reflected from the iris of a woman's eyes; her welling tears had given them a crystalline value, so much so that i could nearly ransack the pigment of my skin from their optic echoes.

   a conversation, i thought, may be the proper protocol.

   the silver cigarette case i produced from my pocket was a gift from the local chamber of commerce for my involvement in supporting tobacco farming during my travels in the carolinas, given with all manner of well intent. i suppose the gleam caught her by surprise, as her reaction was betrayed by an anxious bay of muffled surprise. i displayed it with a covert smirk so as to ease her fears; obviosly she thought i was producing a scalpel of some kind so early in our coversation. producing a lone stick from the case, i chuckled at the notion of offering her one as well, seeing as how the gag on her mouth would prevent her from enjoying it. as the lighter completed its resplendent dance at the tip, i inhaled a soothing allowance of pure vice before i once again noticed the abject terror in the same eyes that had captivated me only moments ago. she obliously noticed the stench with which i had already grown so accustomed to.

  "oh, i do apoligize. it's no brand that you would recognize. you see, in my youth, i once burned a homeless man to death in his sleep. it's cliche, i know. however, what i didn't realize at the time was how the stench would stay with me through most of my life, be it at a bonfire or a backyard barbeque. the bouquet of that peculiar perfume has a method of staying with you. well, to put a long story short, every man need some form of debauchery, and while mine are many and varied, i do need something to tide me from time to time. a small token from my most recent triumph."

   grasping the notion of what i filled my cigarettes with was all too apparent. it almost seemed as if her head were going to vibrate itself into another dimension, a plane of reality where this sphere would forever be abandoned. "i have to say," as i took another drag, "that i do prefer brunette hair best."

   two hard smothered coughs burst from behind the gag, soon followed by all manner of escaping vomit from her mouth and nostrils. so much for trying to be civil, i suppose. "there, there, dear. let me help."

   i produced a hand linen from the sink in a hurry. blood warm on my skin, fine; warm bile on my floor, absolutely not. the very notion of cleaning it makes me cringe.

   after i dabbed the recess elements off her jaw and neck, i locked her in an eternal glare as i produced the boning knife from its sheath and held it to her eye. "you know," i surmised aloud, "i think you're the only one i've been able to talk to."

:)

...The wound seeped for several hours and i had occasion  to taste the sticky coagulating fluid several times.not noticing the growing pool of blood at my feet.In my own numb mind I had failed to notice that the blood was emenating from a rather large wound on my thigh..perhaps a shard of glass  had somehow opened the artery in my thigh.I carefully pulled the wound open and realized I had somehow been lacerated all the way to the bone and a flap of meaty tissue protruded from the injury.My first thought was to super-glue the wound shut until I recalled from some of medical training that cauterizing the ends of the artery would stop the copious flow of blood.Using a a wire hanger,a butane lighter and a tournequit I singed the exposed ends of the artery as the oh so sweet aroma of smoldering blood filled my nostrils.

   My adrenaline seemed to pulse through my entire body as I used a pair of needle nose pliers and super glue to close the wound.wrapped it in some discarded clothing from the last one and sat back down on the dusty bed to survey my handy work.Now there was the issue of gangrene and possible self amputation in case my leg became necrotic and started to turn black.I knew I had time before this could happenActually the concept of self mutilation didnt really unnerve me.But then again there was still the problem of the nostril burning stench that hung in the air like a foul miasma of decomposition.That sickly sweet death stench that drove me to fits of rage yet at the same time heightened my senses.

   The sight of my own blood,the home surgery,the smells and odors excited me.Plus the sounds of labored breathing in the bathroom..a kind of gargling choking sound..was it all in my head?Or perhaps had I aquired another  trophy that for some reason I dont recall? I hobbled my way to the bathroom and slowly opened the door..I had to know.Was there more to be done on this very evenful night?

   And yes there she was.She couldnt have been older than maybe fifteen or so.Clad in just her bra and panties,her entire torso smeared with blood pooling between her tethered legs..her breath rasping from a wound I must have made in her chest..not deep enough to kill..perhaps i punctured a lung,which would account for her obvious breathing difficulty.Her body quivered and shook once she saw me standing in the doorway.Funny that other than her breathing she made no sound..no cries of pain..no pleading for mercy.A huddled small bundle of blood and silence.

...Then it all came back to me in a sudden rush of memory.This was the girl I found at the bus station three days ago.I must have kept her in the bathroom closet all this time..slowly losing blood and somehow escaping the closet sometime earlier today.She looked totally pathetic and wonderful at the same time as I gazed down at her plump body.Then I remembered..she was a deaf mute,looking forlorn and wet at the bus station begging for money so she could go home..using hand written signs to beg for her bus fare from strangers.I of course being the gentleman that I am offered her a ride ...using sign language.She must have been very desperate to accept a ride from a stranger.The chloroform worked quickly.How in the hell did I forget all this? Did I black out at some point in the last three days?

  I carried her limp body thru the alley and up the back stairs..laid her on the bathroom floor and undressed her..not all the way.Because you never want to reveal the prize before youre truly ready.I still dont remember stabbing her..too bad because the rush of air out of a body when they are punctured is truly one of my favorite things.At some point I trussed her up and stuffed her in the closet..well because I was going back to work..Iguess I figured I'd get back to her later.

   Now what to do?My equipment was still soaking in the sink..cleanliness you know! So I decided to become a little creative.Her chintzy little travel bag held items that would come in handy in just such a situation.Well lets see,a curling iron,hair brush,and the odd assortment of shit youd find in a young girls bag.Not much to work with,but as usual.art is not confined to the norm,and I m after all an artist.

...My leg and shoulder were beginning to throb..but this time I wanted a prolonged episode..restraint was in order..didnt want to finish too quickly.Her helplessness,inability to scream was a turn on..fueling my mind with thoughts of slow painful death.

   First things first..plug in the curling iron so it was nice and hot when I ready to use it.I sat on the floor in front of her and poked a finger into the wound in her side..she squirmed and coughed up blood into my face.I think I  was actually tickling her ribs..sort of.I sat and brushed her hair for a few moments and forced the bristle end of the brush into her..mouthShe gagged and even more blood sprayed on my face,must have been using cheap hairspray.I forced open her left eye and licked her eyeball then pushed the handle of the brush up her left nostril..really hard.Her nose split open..I could feel the vibration of the cartilage snapping as more blood and mucous streamed down her face and into her gaping mouth.Her breathing became more frantic,more gasping than breathing.

  Now the curling iron was hot.The smell of the soft tender flesh of her armpit when it started to sear it with the curling iron was amazing.Sort of like roasting perfumed pork.After both armpits were done she passed out.I shoved her face into the toilet to revive her.The floor of the bathroom was covered with various body fluidsHer body slid on the tiles as I flipped her over onto her belly.I pounded the soft flesh of her thighs with the bristle end of the brush until I drew blood.Her body jerked and heaved..almost like an orgasm..and her breathing stopped.I stood over her now lifeless body and  pondered my next move.

knowing his victim in the bathroom can get away or even scream for help he goes back into the kitchen to try and tend to his wounds a little better, the excessive blood loss is making his mind lose touch from the task at hand to him pain feels like a powerful high stronger then any drug imaginable, having no more surgical supplies to soe himself up he stands there watching a pan getting red hot on the stove smirking and giggling knowing the pain will be intense something he'll never forget, he presses the scalding hot pan firmly to his wounds once to his shoulder and once to his thigh tilting his head back and saying the name diana each time with a ominous sexual tone to his voice, i'll always watch him i'm patiently waiting for his death jason the surgeon are words i always hear whispers from the lips of spirits people he's killed, i must abide by the law of free will but surely this ones past the point of forgiveness his soul will be a fine addition to my collection i'm growing stronger soon he'll be mine.