WARNING!
SLIGHT HORROR THEME IN THIS STORY
MODERATE DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE (no death)
Hello, Ore-Samma here;
To new fans, welcome! To old fans, welcome back!
I do not know if this will mark a more consistent return and posting, but we will see. I certainly hope so! Thank you for reading! Feel free to email me anytime at burritobastard@gmail.com
I do not check that email often, but perhaps it'll be more often than here.
I do not know where this story came from, but my fingers will not be denied sometimes.
And to head off comments = No! Victor did not engage until I *specifically mention* it.
Ever your servant
Ore-Samma
I love the dead.
Is that strange? If people only knew, I would be outcasted, labeled a freak, a monster, a perverted deviant that would only be worthy of imprisonment…. or worse.
Or maybe I love death? I dunno, it’s hard to say.
I suppose that’s why I gravitated towards the fringes of the city, away from prying eyes… away from the judgement of those who didn’t understand, or could never understand.
So, I became a Gravemaster. I attended those who passed away in the city. I lived on the fringes so I could suppress my twisted impulses…… or at my weakest times…. satisfy them.
I’m not a monster.
I’m not a threat.
But, I am not unaware of how I would be seen as both, and so I remain in isolation, or among the dead.
I must work.
I must work.
I must work.
I must work.
I must work.
I-
My gaze dropped to the latest client on the cold metal slab. My sight beheld a beauty obscured only by the mist from my breath in the icy cold air.
It had been the harshest winter in living memory, and the city was just beginning to thaw from the two week long ice storm.
The poor thing, she was only twenty before she passed away from pneumonia. More the pity- she was a traveler from another region, she had no home here or family. I still gritted my teeth to the city guard’s callousness when they dumped her at my parlor.
“A vagrant- just get rid of it, here’s the usual compensation from the city’s waste disposal fund; five coppers.”
“Have respect for the dead you troglodyte!” I yelled back, aghast at how they dumped her from the old wooden cart like a sack of garbage.
The guard gave a scoff, then stepped forward and stood on the poor thing’s chest. ”I respect the living. Corpses only serve to remind the rest of us of death, and how bad they smell when we rot.”
I screamed and shoved the guard off her, but not before I heard her delicate ribs crack. “You ignorant wretch! Is this how you want to be treated when you die!?”
The guard lunged back forward and struck me hard on my left cheekbone. “The next time you lay your hands on me, you’re gonna be arrested and tried for high treason!” He spat on the ground and walked off, calling out over his shoulder.
“The dead are of no use, and serve no one. You’re even worse than all the wailing weaklings in the city. I will never understand how people can love the dead more than those who are still alive. The dead cannot love us, nor can they give us comfort.”
I massaged the sore spot near my eye as I attended to the vision of loveliness on my table.
I shouldn't be putting so much effort and expense into her preparation. Five coppers didn’t even cover the time it would take for me to bury her in a shallow grave…. If I could even dig in the frozen earth….. the thought brought me to grit my teeth again, as I knew the other Gravemasters would have just thrown her in the wilderness for the scavengers.
I reached for the Alraune nectar and the Holstaur butter cream.
“He’s wrong.” I whispered as I finished cleaning her hair and applied the mixture to soften and shine her vibrant, long reddish blonde locks.. “You were alive once. Once you smiled and laughed and had dreams of your own.”
I must work.
I must work.
I must work.
I must work.
I must work.
I must work……
I-
I finally finished removing her clothes to prepare the rest of her. I took a deep breath in and sighed, watching the mist come forth, parting to reveal her naked body.
“Why did he do that?” I choked out, nearly sobbing as I looked at her sunken chest. “You would have looked so regal in that red dress I have.” I reached for my tool bag and retrieved several instruments and specially crafted (and expensive) sticks of wood, and began to replace her crushed ribs with the curved wooden sticks.
“Careful, please bear with me- I know this hurts, but I’m going to try to open you up as little as possible.” I whispered, removing the crushed bone fragments and inserting the curved wood that were slickened by honeybee royal jelly and wax.
I must work.
I must work.
I must work.
I must work.
I must work.
I-
At last, it was done. I finished the last suture with my signature knot with the Arachne silk.
I swallowed, the reconstruction went better than I could have hoped. Only seven small lines of suture marked where her skin was cut open. I washed my hands and the bone fragments.
“Ah, sweet Memento Mori” I breathed as I placed the bone fragments into a small jar I kept for such moments as these.
I shouldn’t be doing this.
I shouldn’t…..
I reached for more of the Alraune nectar and began to mix it with the girtablilu venom. Soon after I had a small amount of ointment and began to work it into her skin.
Normally a topical application of this mixture would be highly irritating to living tissue. But the dead slept peacefully, allowing me to experiment with the most unconventional mixtures that made the skin of my clients look exquisite.
I sighed, cupping her chin as I wiped her face with the ointment. I wiped away the tears I imagined forming from the corner of her eyes, ran my fingers over her supple and pouty lips. I reveled in how her face rested against my shoulder as I massaged the ointment into her back and arms.
I wiped my burning lips again, “Just…. being… thorough….” I panted as I caressed her smallish breasts, long legs, and rounded bottom.
Stop.
Just stop.
Stop.
Just don’t do it.
Stop.
Stop……
I-
At last I was done with the mixture. I removed my gloves washed my hands and still-burning lips and turned back to the beauty on the slab
“Just look at you!” I breathed, sitting her up to look at the mirror on the wall. “You are the most beautiful client I have ever had, and likely ever will have!” I exclaimed. I gently reached up, and drew back her eyelids. “Comon, you have to open your eyes and appreciate this!”
I looked at both of us in the mirror, and felt a lump in my throat as I stared into her glassed over green eyes.
“Oh! Wait, I see. I forgot this!” I exclaimed as I rested her back and brought the red dress close by. “You must be so cold! I’m sorry, let me help you!”
I eased the dress on her form, taking care to not mess her hair, even including the night-black stockings and lingerie.
“There, see? What do you think?” I said, gently sitting her back up and marveling at her beauty.
I stared, feeling the silence grow heavier and more suffocating.
“Please.” I begged, shaking her a little. “Please tell me you can see this? Tell me that it was worth it?”
Her lifeless gaze stared into nothing.
She couldn’t see the work I put in.
No one would, but me.
Why did I do this?
What was the point?
I gently laid her back down on the metal slab, and felt a crash in the pit in my stomach when I realized I put nearly half a year’s worth of resources and effort into this client that compensated me only five coppers….. that was a fraction of a fraction of what I’ve just wasted..
“No!” I shouted. “It was not wasted! It wasn’t!”
I held back choking sobs as I threw away the empty containers of the spent exotic ingredients.
“What have I done?” I whispered.
I had to turn away. It was too much to bear. There were plenty of other clients who passed away from the unforgiving winter, clients whose loved ones paid my usual fee, and kept me fed.
I worked all day and into the night. I had to, otherwise I would just just succumb to the sickness that always threatened to take over my good sense.
How long was I at it? All I knew was that I was finished with all my commissions and it was pitch black outside again. There was nothing to do, but wait for the morning carriage to deliver my clients to their families, or the Church.
I must sleep.
I must….
“What am I dong?” I gasped, realizing I had her in my arms at the foot of the stairs leading out of my workshop.
I looked upon her face in a cold horror. My sickness battled against the last few shreds of humanity within me. This is wrong! I can’t do this anymore!
“I MUST WORK!” I cried out and forcibly marched back to the slab and set her back down again. I realized I had her lingerie in my hand and dropped it, retreating from the workshop in a dazed horror.
“I must work!” I panted, repeating my mantra over and over with each step away from my love. Each step up the stairs. With every movement to clean my burning hands and lips. And with each motion to remove my clothes and over and over again as I lay in bed, demanding that sleep or death to take me.
“I must-”
“HuuuUUuuuUuuhhhh!”
Was I awake? What was that sound?
“MuuuUuuOooOoaaahhhHhh!”
I opened my eyes. The sky was still pitch black and the fireplace in my bedroom was just embers now. I looked about, wondering if it was just the wind.
“Hello?” I called out, sitting upright and glancing about the room. I stood up and went to the door and opened it just a crack.
I screamed as the door burst into me and flung me back.
There she was, my beautiful client. Her face was turned towards me, but her haunting eyes remained unfocused.
“My love?” I breathed, standing and stepping towards her as she shambled towards me. “Is it you?”
She raised her arms as I came near, and I took her into my arms-
“NO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” I screamed as her open mouth closed upon my chest and her teeth sank into my body.
A grotesque *rip* that I felt as much as heard pierced the night, and I shoved her away from me, now watching her chew and swallow my piece of flesh.
I held my hand over my bleeding wound and begged to wake up from this nightmarish-dream-come-true.
“Rrrraaaaoouuugrrrrhhh!” She moaned, her face locked in my direction and continued to shamble towards me and repeated her now-aggressive vocalization.
“Stay back!” I cried out, my back to the wall, my blood and heartbeat pumping, pulsating my entire body. There was no way out! She was blocking my only means of escape!
She slowly closed the distance, but this time I was ready.
I tried my best to wrestle her away from me, tried my best to position myself to the door to get away. But she was far too strong. The best I was doing was keeping her teeth from my body.
I cried out, as I tripped over the bed, bringing her on top of me. By This time the blood from my chest covered my entire front, making my body slick, keeping it hard for her to stay fixed on top of me.
She snarled, opening and closing her maw- with pieces of my flesh still stuck in-between her teeth, I smelled my blood upon her breath as her eyes and face remained expressionless.
“Please! Not like this! NOT LIKE THIS!” I cried out as she finally succeeded in grabbing the top of my shoulder with her teeth.
Another flash of pain, another nauseating *RIIIIIPPPP* that I felt and heard.
She reared back, seeming to revel in the chewing and swallowing of my flesh, halting her onslaught.
How long did I hesitate? Why did I contemplate letting her consume me? Was this punishment for my sickness?
“I MUST LIVE!" I screamed, deciding to choose another fate and pushed her off from straddling me on the bed.
Her bottom slipped from my chest, down my abdomen and- and-
Did... Did that just-
Did that just happen?
The girl swallowed the morsel and turned her face back to me and came back at me again, her bottom rising from my flesh, creating a startling sensation of pleasure from the friction of our two bodies. I pushed her away, and she slid back down upon me, causing another wave of pleasure.
“No! Stop!” I cried out, my desire to live conflicting with my more twisted desire. To live meant I would have to end our passion….. To continue our passion would have to allow the end my life.
My two desires raged and chaotically clashed and warred within the boiling recesses of my entire being and confused psyche.... all the while her moans and mine filled the night air.
“Stop! Stop! Stop!” I cried out as I felt my climax draw near just as her teeth came into contact with my throat, her entire body tightened and-
She collapsed upon my chest, trembling along with me..... our bodies and the bed now soaked with my blood.
I tried to push her off me again, and just barely was able to. I tried to get out of bed, but I was too weak, and only succeeded in rolling over to face her lying next to me. I closed my eyes seeing her green eyes still staring at me, her face and mouth smeared with my blood.
“No- not like this…..” I moaned as I closed my eyes and surrendered to darkness.
(One month later)
“Victor, wake up! I brought you some water.”
I opened my eyes. I fell asleep on the chair in my workshop again, lulled to sleep by the soft ticking of the embalming machine, and the heat of the newly installed cremation machine.
I glanced up and smiled. “Ah! Sorry about that. Thank you, Vivienne!”
Vivienne padded down the stairs and sat down next to me. Her hair carrying the faint smell of Alraune nectar. She looked at me with sad green eyes as they rested upon the scars upon my bare chest and shoulder.
“Hey-” I said, cupping her chin and raising her face to meet mine. “You didn’t know any better, I’m not upset. I keep telling you to not come down here when I’m working with the cremation machine. It’s too hot to keep my shirt on.“
“Victor Frankenstein!” Vivienne scoffed, “Am I allowed to have my guilt? My sorrow? My remorse? Cremation machine and heat be damned! I still see these scars when... when we-” Her stern expression and eyes turned sorrowful and watery as her lips trembled. She leaned forward and kissed the still-sore scars that never seemed to heal properly. They were always a bright, angry pink and would hurt on occasion.
She ran her fingertips over her cheeks and placed the wetness on my chest and shoulder and kissed the spots with her usual tenderness.
“I can’t imagine- I just can’t….” She choked back her tears for a while, but ended up sobbing in my chest.
I just held her close, running my hands through her silky hair and feeling her body swell and deflate with her breaths, trembling with her sobs.
“Hey now-” I said, bringing her chin back up and wiping her eyes. “I have you, and we have each other. Isn’t it worth it?”
Vivienne sighed and nodded. “Okay, point taken.” She stood and kissed me deeply.
“But please, Victor…… Don’t work too long. I miss you. I need you, please. Come to me soon!” She cooed and left the jug of ice cold water she brought down for me.
I watched her go up, and glanced at my latest client laying on the metal slab.
“You’re wrong. Sometimes, even those who have passed on can return. They can love you, they can comfort you…. If you are willing. But I suppose you will never know, but it is enough for me.”
I covered him with a sheet and glanced about what was once my only place of happiness and solitude, but now grew to be a prison with each passing day.... as heaven was found in Vivienne's arms, and happiness in her smile.
I washed my hands and started to climb the stairs.
I must live….
I must live….
I must
End.