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Her body itched, begging to move her sore muscles. Her mind obliged, but soon it became apparent that she was strapped to this hard, cold table. Desperate wiggles were made--perhaps she could loosen her bindings. But, alas. This attempt of escape was to no avail. Exhaustion crept nearer, and she didn’t understand why. On her way home, she was perfectly lucid. She had felt refreshed, invigorated. Now, lousiness reigned her body. Each tiny twitch would take years to complete.
The silence was nearly as overbearing as her own impending doom. Sara’s ears yearned to hear something. by the soreness of her throat, screams or any amount of conversation above a whisper could not be attempted. Soft gurgles slowly made their way up a sore pharynx, pushing until finally escaping through cracked lips. The sounds amplified, until her groans became music. Wonderful, wonderful music. Proof she was still alive--and in somewhat control of herself. Eyes darted about, a glimmer of hope reborn. Perhaps some form of illumination could be observed, something, anything that would give her an idea of where she was. Her former desperation was scoffed at, viewed as irrational. Just a primordial thought not even worth scrutinizing.
Her search was for naught. An inky abyss swarmed around her; nothing was to be viewed. Now in a state of panic, she urged her muscles to comply to her whims. ‘Move! God, please move.’ Fingers anxiously endeavored to curl upwards, to get a grasp of those cruel bindings. A groan joined in her campaign, until finally, the moved a mere smidgen. Near paralyzed, her body was useless. Only a few gurgles could be made; she was left a mere rag doll. Limp, relaxed, quiet. A puppet.
The taps of high-heels cut through the growing, near-deafening, silence. They grew nearer, and nearer filling Sara with a sense of dread. Here was her doom, coming for her. Waiting to snap her into two. Panicked whimpers escaped fleshy barrier. Pleads were made with each of her limbs, urging them to move, to flail, to spasm. To merely make some attempt to save her. Only delayed twitches, and small wavers, were gained.
The buzzing of electricity mingled with all the new sounds that had been gained, whilst inky black dissipated. Soon, blurs of colors and shapes formed in her vision until it finally completely cleared. Eyes scurried about, until landing on their target. A woman in at least her early-thirties stood a few feet away. She was dressed in plain white scrubs, with a surgical mask covering the majority of her face; piercing green eyes stared right back at Sara, soft and friendly.
“ Hello, deary! How are you today?” A pause was given, supposedly to allow Sara to speak. She tried to question the woman’s motives, but alas, was cut off by a strange accent. “I suppose you’re ‘ondering what you’re doing ‘ere, eh? Well, love, yer here to help my with a bit o' an experimen'…” A tray of sterile, ominously glistening medical tools was retrieved, before her unnamed kidnapper continued her little speech. “I thought you might like to ‘elp further my education of human anatomy.” Seemingly innocent words hid true intentions. Sara’s foggy mind slowly began deciphering everything that’d been said, until the situation’s true horror hit her. Like a dozen atomic bombs, it hit her. Those eyes widened in horror, her mouth widening in a large ‘O’ to mimic the shape made when a gasp was taken.
“Now, deary. There‘s nothing to worry your pretty little head about.” The self-proclaimed biologist reassured. “It’ll on’y ‘urt a moment.” She nodded, wheeling the tray towards Sara’s table. A smile was given as a nail was grabbed in one hand, a hammer held firmly in the other. “My name’s Mona.” With that brief introduction, Mona carefully, cautiously, hovered the nail just above Sara’s palm. Careful aim aided her as the hammer was raised higher and higher. Higher and higher. Sara’s tension mounted, sheer terror racing through her veins. Each beat of her heart sent more and more adrenalin to mingle with her blood.
In a few, short seconds the hammer came crashing down, pinning the nail into her flesh. Despite former beliefs, Sara could indeed scream. And she did. “Now, my love. The first step is to pin ya down.” A tongue flicked out of Mona’s mouth, pressing against a corner. “Dun wantcha movin’ around, now do we?” Such charisma was odd in such a sinister person. Mona was almost likeable. Sara was drawn to her, but at the same time, repulsed by her actions. The same steps were taken to send a nail through her other palm. Longer tacks were needed to thrust through her ankles, though. Mona was careful not to crush through too many bones, though. She had made the statement that’d ruin the dissection all together.
Crimson ran out of her body, leaking out onto the table. “Funny, I didn’t expect that.” Mona blinked, watching as the rust-colored liquid drained onto the tiled floor. “Oh, well. Time for the incisions.” The hammer was hastily thrown on the table, causing a clang to fill both their ears. Gloved fingers ran across the cool surface of the scalpel, a thumb racing down its sharp edge. Though the plastic glove was now frayed, no blood seeped through the material. She hadn’t pressed down hard enough. She tilted the tool, causing daggers of light to stab Sara’s weakened eyes. Mona smirked, revealing straight, beautifully white teeth. Placing it back down again, she ripped off Sara’s clothes, peering down at a nude body. Again, almost nervously, the scalpel was grasped. Forceps helped as she pulled Sara’s skin upwards, slicing an area above her crotch. Gore seeped out this wound, but she didn’t care. Sweat formed on her forehead, as the scalpel switched hands, and scissors continued the rest of the job. Again, Sara’s screams of agony resonated off the walls. Mona tutted her tongue, mrmuring how it wouldn’t hurt for long. Her hacking and cutting stopped at her chest, just inches above her collarbone. Vertical incisions were created in a similar fashion, one extending from one side of her hip to the other. The remaining incision was from the right side of her chest, to the left. “Hmmm.” She gently used the forceps to grab the flaps of skin, pinning them to the table along with Sara’s limbs.
“Oh, this is in’eresting, isn’t it?” Mona was in absolute awe at the bulging masses of muscles that met her. Stringy, and equally bloody, they created a barrier between her and Sara’s internal organs. Sara’s own mind was coming and going, bouts of unconsciousness occasionally overtaking her. Not that she minded. It was pure bliss, those sporadic periods of nothing. No feeling, nothing. As if she was floating on a cloud. The same type incisions were made to her muscles, with the same care and cautiousness. A bead of perspiration rolled off Mona’s forehead, mixing with the gore of Sara’s body. It burned and singed, sent waves of misery radiating through her. But, fortunately, she was currently incognizant. These newly formed flaps of muscles joined the fate of her skin, and her limbs. Nailed to the table. “Here’s the fun part, love.” Attention was turned to the apparently unconscious Sara. “Eh, love! Wake up! We’re just now gitting to the fun part!” A slap was given to soft cheeks, and Sara stirred, much to Mona’s delight. Sara’s current situation gained a scream, but that was it. Right now, the pain had become something continuous and expected. Pulsing, familiar.
Mona prodded at exposed organs, immediately drawn towards the beating heart. Tweezers were used to poke at it, before the tool picked up the liver, any additional organs underneath viewed. The stomach was scrutinized, as she curiously touched it with her own gloved finger. “Oh, love! This is most educational! It’s so squishy! You should try this sometime.” Mona then found her hands curling underneath the sack-like organ. Cautiously pulling it out of the body cavity. Oblivious to Sara’s dwindling shrieks and gasps, she cut the sack open, reveling at the sight of half-digested food.
The heart’s rate quickened, spasms forcing it to continue pumping blood. Already, the substance covered the table, and the much of the surrounding floor. Mona, realizing finally that Sara was about to die, was immediately angered. “Why didn’t ya say sumthin’?!” Hastily, she reached for the heart, ripping it out of Sara’s chest. Arteries and veins were torn in the process, splurting crimson in a sinister sort of shower. With her last breaths, she gasped and shrieked, and then all was quiet. But Mona wasn’t finished. Slicing portions of the thick cardiac muscle, one piece was popped into open mouth. Teeth gnawed at the strange material, mmm’s suggesting she enjoyed the metallic flavoring of the coat of blood.
Forceps tugged at her intestines, eventually uncoiling them completely. Dangling a beaded string, she bounced it, testing its weight. The intestines snapped back, then returned to their former position, circling from the shaking of her hand. Satisfied, a pleased little smirk contorted her expressions, placing them around her neck as if they were some sort of precious trinket. She admired herself in the reflective surface of the scalpel, flashing a smile to the make-do mirror; oh how beautiful she looked.
