anatomy

by Yolanda Olson

  Allow me.

  Sigh.

  Nothing is more melodic than the sweet sound of bones breaking under the weight of anger and a good solid, tool. Only one hit and you’re on your side already? Pity; I thought you were much stronger than that. If anything, I’d liken you to a crying bitch at this point, but I’m going to need you to get back on your hands and feet and take your punishment like a good little dog.

  My apologies.

  I sincerely didn’t mean to cause the bone to break through your skin, but it will heal with time. It may hinder your ability to skitter about like a useless bug that needs to be crushed, but it’ll make you unique. Isn’t that what you crave the most? To be the one who stands out the most among us without working for it?

  No longer.

  Now brace yourself.

  And try not to shit yourself again. That smell is foul and I wanted to think more highly of someone who inflicts so much pain on others.

  One more swing of this mallet you’re so fond of and I’ll leave you to wallow in your own piss and shit until I finish with her. Then, I’ll come back and put you out of your fucking misery once and for all.

  Shall we?

  Ahhh.

  The screams of the wicked truly do not hold a candle to the cries of the innocent. Of course, none of us are innocent―even the ones trying to be cleansed of their sins.

  Before I leave this room, I want you to do something for me, okay? I’ll even help you to show you I mean no further harm until I return.

  Up you go.

  There.

  Now, do your best to balance on your broken fucking legs and walk across the room for me. However if you attempt to reach that door, I’ll crush your skull with the tool of your choosing. See? I’m not all bad, I’m just trying to make sure you know your place in this dark little paradise.

  I highly suggest you start moving before I lose my patience. No; don’t drag yourself. Have some fucking dignity, for Christ’s sake.

  Very good. I appreciate the effort you put into this―that’ll do. You can roll back on your side and cry like the little bitch you are, and don’t worry; I won’t forget about you.

  That would be unbecoming of me and I always intend to finish what I start.

  15

  I hope you don’t think I forgot about you. I had to tend to the animal that tried to bite you. You understand, don’t you? You don’t have to worry about him anymore; I’ve made sure the only person he’ll be able to harm from now on is himself.

  Maybe he’ll do me that favor and take his own life before I go back to him, but I doubt it.

  Enough about that for now; let’s get you out of this tub.

  Are you still with me? Open your eyes if you can hear me, or at the very least, try your best to grip my hand. It’s okay; you’re safe now in my arms and we’re going back to our little room.

  I think our private hell is a beautiful place, don’t you? We have everything we could ever need in there, and as I’ve promised to you before, we’re almost done. A few more hours and it’ll be time for you to choose if you want to live or if you want to die. I didn’t forget about that, so don’t let it worry you if it’s been weighing on your head.

  We still have some more time together and I plan to make the most of it. We have so much skin left to remove from this body of yours, and you wouldn’t want to miss the sensation of it, would you? I know you’re secretly enjoying it because your eyes tell me as much. They’ve gone from being filled with fear to dimly lit with euphoria and I think that’s something we can both appreciate.

  Speaking of euphoria, I have to tell you that your skin so cold and frigid feels rather nice against me. May I try something with you? It’ll be nothing like earlier, I promise. I just want to attempt something that makes me nervous.

  Oh? You didn’t think monsters get nervous, too? Tut, tut, little girl. So many things you still need to learn about this great big world, and so little time to learn it in.

  Here we are, back in our own little place in this den of bastards, and I’ll take your silence to mean you’ll allow me my moment. Is that a yes I see in your eyes? I hope it is, because I would hate to do something you weren’t in agreeance with.

  It won’t take me but a moment, because I don’t know if this is something I will enjoy, but I’ll place you on the bed for this because until your body temperature rises again, it’s the best place for you.

  I’ll be quick, I promise.

  No matter what I’ve said about you before, I want you to know that I find you to be quite beautiful. This isn’t a means of flattery, because I believe we’ve gone way past that point now. It’s just something I think you should know before it’s all over.

  Is that an attempt to smile I see on your face? Good. I hope you’ll find the strength to smile at all the things that will come your way, because I know I will.

  One moment while I prepare myself, and try not to get too comfortable on the bed. I don’t want your body temperature to rise again too quickly, before I’ve had the chance to―well, you’ll understand soon enough.

  It shouldn’t take too long for me to be ready. I just need to pull your shirt down for a moment, if that’s okay? Thank you; you have no idea how much I appreciate this.

  My God. You might have the most amazing breasts I’ve ever seen on a woman―dead or alive. So ripe, so round, so fucking perfect.

  Would it be too much if I asked you to watch me now? I’m doing this for you and it will help things go much faster if you look at me like you want this as badly as I do.

  You do, don’t you? You want to know what it feels like when I slide my cock inside your cold, wet gash and push into you.

  Are you wet, watching me? You must be, because I’m so damn sure I can smell you already.

  I won’t make this painful. I just want to see if I can―fuck. When was the last time you had a man inside you? You are so fucking tight that it’s almost enough to make me come but I won’t. Not until I can see if I can … just …

  The way you’re looking at me right now tells me I’m more than enough for you. If only I could find a way to put this into words you would appreciate, instead of leaving it all unspoken thoughts in my fucking head.

  This is absolutely magnificent. The way your damn near frozen hole tightens around my cock as I push in and out of you―it’s almost enough to make me want to try the living, but I won’t. I know I’m not ready for that yet, and I’ll never be good enough for anyone not dead or dying, but I cannot thank you enough for this moment.

  I’ll stop before I come inside you, because I don’t want you to feel like a cheap, used whore. I want you to feel something you’ve never felt before. I want you to feel loved and worthy, and you won’t feel that way with someone like me fucking you.

  I want you to know it only makes this harder on me. I’ll go to the bathroom and finish myself off.

  You have until then to collect your thoughts and attempt to regain some sense. Then, we’ll continue until it’s time to choose.

  16

  Dying is such a simple thing to do. The body begins to give up when it feels there’s no longer a reason to fight anymore, and yet my mind tells me that there are many more rooms still to discover.

  Do I want to, though? Is this all worth the hell and deviance I’ve been subjected to just to face another door and step into a darker nightmare?

  It’s no longer up to me, and I know that now, because if my mind is willing to fight when my body is so willing to die, I owe it to myself to continue this plight.

  My body is broken, bruised, and almost completely stripped of its flesh, and yet I somehow manage to hold strong to the promise I was made. If I choose life, I’ll walk among others as a reminder of the wicked deeds done in the darkness, but I’ll be alive. If I choose death, the suffering will be over but the legacy I leave behind will be remembered by no one, because I’ve not given myself a chance of redemption.

  I deserve more than this, and I cannot find it within
my battered spirit to give in just yet. My mind won’t let me―it wants to see what’s behind those other doors―and so do I.

  I do my best to sit up but I have no strength for such a simple feat. Instead, I manage to pull myself back against the headboard and rest for a moment while my tormentor moans loudly somewhere within the walls of this hell. He’s finished pleasuring himself, from the sounds of it, and I wonder why he didn’t just use me until he was done.

  Was my body becoming too warm for his liking? Was my lack of emotion enough of a reason for him to decide he was better off on his own? I haven’t been fucked in years; surely, I was tight enough for him? Or perhaps it was my confession that weighed too heavily on his mind? Maybe he didn’t want to risk planting a seed he knew would never have time to grow—or be murdered when the moment presented itself.

  I know now that physically, I have no fight left, but my will is becoming strong again, and for the moment, that will have to do.

  I hear the opening of the rusty faucets and the torrent of water that rushes out, and I assume he’s making himself presentable again. I chuckle tiredly as the thought flows through my mind. This tormentor of mine is quite proper when he speaks, and takes great care in how he looks. In a weird way, it’s almost as if though he wants to make a good impression to hide his malevolent deeds.

  Oh yes; even one such as him, who knows nothing of what true pain can feel like, manages to wear a mask like a king in a masquerade ball that only very few are privileged enough to enter. The only invitation needed is your very soul, and the means to let it be crushed under the heel of his boot―just like the jesters in his court.

  He’s the strongest one. I know this now, because I can feel it deep inside me when he whispers his words of warning that the time is upon us. I can taste it with each bit of flesh torn away from me. He is the back on which this empire was built, and he will not tolerate anything other than pure submission.

  The sound of the faucet turning again brings me back to the moment. The torrent of water has seceded to nothing more than a drip, and then silence.

  He’s coming for me again.

  17

  Oh, my poor little pet. You look absolutely terrified of me. Why? Have I not treated you with respect? Have I not made our time together enjoyable? I’ve even stuck my cock inside you because of how beautiful you’re beginning to look. Doesn’t that deserve something other than fear?

  I do wish you’d learn to trust me. That look in your eyes should have faded by now, and I hate that you still present as nothing more than a scared rabbit every time I enter this room.

  Don’t worry so much. If this has taught you anything, it should be that you’re much stronger than you think you are. You’ve lasted the longest of anyone before you, and I think that’s a wonderful accomplishment to be proud of.

  I don’t mean to sigh so heavily, and please forgive me for doing so again, but I thought we had gotten past all this at this point. Before you worry, I’m only going to sit on the edge of the bed for now. I just want you to know I’m very honored you’ve chosen me for this task. I know you could have picked anyone here, and yet you put your life in my hands, and I think that makes our connection even more special.

  Surprised, are you? Didn’t think I knew you specifically requested me? Believe me, I know it’s against the rules to look at the paperwork, but I was curious as to who would get the pleasure of breaking you, and was happily surprised to see that my door was chosen.

  I’m usually given meeker souls to work with because of the intense levels I can reach. Which would also explain why they don’t last long with me. I guess I can say it’s about damn time I was given prime material to work with.

  Not that I think any less of you. I meant it as a compliment, of course. Do you recall when I told you that I was given the chance to be an angel, but chose to be what I am? Obviously, it was a metaphor, but do you know what for? You must, because after all, you’re the reason I took up this line of work.

  You look confused, and I can’t imagine why, because you know good and goddamn well you understand what I’m saying.

  I’m sorry.

  That was coarse language in an unwarranted moment. I’ll try to refrain from doing it again, but you bring out the anger in me just as easily as I strip the flesh from your bones.

  We should get back to work, but we have a bit more time before I’ll sharpen my blades again. I did tell you this next session would be the last, and I intend to make good on that. However I want to spend more time together, and I’ll try my best to reconnect your tongue, because I want to feel your screams down to my core. Would that be okay with you? If I did it for that reason? You still owe me the truth of your sin, and I’ll allow you a few moments to get used to the sensation of being able to speak again, but not too much time, because we have matters to attend to.

  I don’t want to drag this out longer than it needs to be, but even I get tired from time to time, and that climax has taken a bit out of me.

  I’m going to move toward you now, but I won’t harm you yet. I just want to lie down for a while and close my eyes and if you’d like, I can hold you close while I sleep. Then maybe you won’t feel so afraid of me anymore.

  I think that could be nice, don’t you?

  I’ll take your closing your eyes as an agreement and hope I’m right, then. Ahhh. It feels so good to lie down, doesn’t it?

  Come here, little girl. Wrap your arms around your monster and sleep soundly. No more pain tonight; only the blissful surrender of sleep until the time is right to end this once and for all.

  18

  It’s not sleep I’m fighting right now―it’s the sweet surrender of death. I can feel its cool hand gripping me tightly, seducing me to leave now and not continue this, but I can’t.

  Not like this.

  Not cradled in the arms of the beast that wants to kill every last fiber of my soul before setting my body to rest and rot underneath an unforgiving ground.

  So instead, I’ll kiss Death’s hand and thank him for coming to me. He knows I’ll seek him out soon enough, and when we’re both ready, I’ll grasp his skeletal hand and let him take me into the ether. Such a beautiful friend and a dangerous foe all the same; however, now is not our time, and he’ll understand that.

  My evil holds me tightly against his body. The steady rise and fall of his chest is mesmerizing and he’s long since retreated into the world of dreams.

  Do monsters dream, though? Are they not a nightmare enough in their own right? Why would they be allowed such a thing when they know nothing of this world but cruelty and destruction?

  I envy him.

  He sleeps so soundly without a care in the world, while I lie, dying, next to him. I can’t say he doesn’t care, because his words tell me much more than his malevolent actions. Somewhere inside that hollow chest built of flesh and bone, there’s a heart trying desperately to beat again, and he’s using me to make it so.

  I shift slightly beside him, careful not to rouse him back to the waking world, and allow myself to slide an arm around his waist. He doesn’t mind the blood. Even though he’s absolutely concerned with appearance, even though my blood flows so freely onto the white, silk shirt that covers his torso, he still sleeps.

  When it’s time to begin, he’ll don the apron and I’ll know the end has finally come to me. He’s told me that much; that when I see him in full garb and ready to finish this, I’ll understand what he wears in those moments and why.

  Taking as deep a breath as I can, I shift my chin on his steadily rising chest and smile slightly.

  Rest, my beautiful monster. Know peace and relish your dreams. Soon, it will all come crashing down for both of us.

  19

  Put it down.

  Don’t take that.

  If you swallow that down, I’ll have to fight for my position again. I don’t want this to start over from the beginning, and neither do you, because it will be a fate much worse than what I already plan to bestow upon y
ou.

  She thinks I’m asleep, but I’m not. I’m reliving the bitter and wonderful day she finally listened to me―the day this all began.

  I don’t want to bother her in her silence. It’s the proverbial calm before the storm and I wish I could walk her through the halls one more time. I want her to see that what she’s giving up is only for the betterment of herself. I don’t want her to hate me before the end, nor do I want her to think me the monster I know she does.

  Monster.

  It’s such a harsh word, yet such a damning reality. Monsters can’t exist without the innocent, and they want us as desperately as we want them. The lost ones do, anyway. They can’t see they’re much better off if they just open their eyes and look at the world around them. No. Instead, they come to us for comfort in the pain we inflict, and then turn around and curse our names when they’re away from us.

  This is why I won’t allow my innocents to leave me. Not alive―if they’re here with me, they don’t deserve to walk away.

  I’m not like the others that hide behind the doors. They’ll allow life if their innocents prove themselves worthy, but that’s why I’m the worst of all, isn’t it? Because I can hear past the lies. Because I can see past the false repentance.

  The truth be told, she may not be the only one that I’ve taken to an early grave, but I think she’s the most deserving. She fights far more than she should; carries on longer than she needs to. She’s earned my attention and yet I find myself becoming drawn to her in a way unbefitting one of my standing.

  Possibly due to the fact that I was able to fuck her before she died, though I feel there’s more to her story than she’s willing to let on.