Body Art

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Body Art Page 2

by Garry Charles


  “Can you feel me inside?” She probed with cold fingers. “Is it good for you?” She leaned forward and ran her tongue along his check, the unnatural roughness feeling like a thousand barbs as it tore the skin away from the soft tissue under the surface.

  They surrounded him, hands reaching out to tear at his clothes and skin just as he had with them. He wanted to scream but fingers pushed in around his Adam’s apple and crushed it with inhuman pressure.

  They continued to crowd in on him, suffocating him with their eagerness to return his perverse love. They tore at him with abandon, taking the flesh and returning to the walls with their trophies and smearing the remains over the concrete surface, using his fluids to paint a new picture.

  The entire time she never left his side, holding him upright in her intimate embrace, waiting until he was truly naked, exposed as he had once exposed them.

  “Enough,” she said, lifting Jeff to his feet and leading him towards the wall, bloody footprints left in his path.

  “But I loved you,” Jeff coughed through a throat full of blood.

  “You don’t know the meaning of love,” they said as one. “But you will come to learn the meaning of suffering.”

  She pushed Jeff against the gore smeared wall. The pain was like nothing Jeff had ever felt before and he finally managed to scream, spraying the air with a red mist as the sound bubbled up from his tattered windpipe.

  The scream died as he became one with the wall, the wet blood drying around him as his flesh bled into the concrete and he joined those he had once loved.

 

 

 


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