From her right hand drops the pair of vocal cords straight into a biological canister, her hand still warm from the blood, Lust grabs her yogurt from the contrastingly cold refrigerator.
Staring at the white wall in front of her, Lust sees herself much like the wall, perhaps their lives are even similar.
The wall listens, but does not speak, is present, but goes for the most part, unnoticed.
Blank, empty, and ready to be covered in blood, this wall is more of a mirror than a simple slab of bricks.
A blink signals her return to the real world, a return to the treat that awaited, this was her reward, a sick reward to most, but to Lust it was sheer excitement to be on the job and process according to her own desire.
She crumbles the yogurt box, throws it in the trash and turns on the water.
The water pouring from the sink, starts up a slight twitch in the victim.
Washing your hands before any contact under skin is always indicated. Always. Even if the victim lay above the sink.
Lust enjoyed maintaing a certain cleanliness, although she knew that this future corpse did not need sterile sculpting of any kind.
Gritting her teeth, she begins to dig into the superficial abdomen with the K-24 Fanno hand saw, however this tool appears to be much more rough than Lust had anticipated.
Glistening knives flash through her mind as she half smiles at the whore in front of her.
“You’ll be fine, my dear, not much difference is there between your plastic surgery endeavors, and this. Also, if you complain about lack of anesthesia, do tell your doctor that I didn’t get the fucking memo in time. That is… if you can tell him.”
Lust stands in front of her knife case, much like Hitler stood affront his army, her knives screamed at her much like his soldiers would scream to him that they would make him most proud.
Well, in that moment, the antique Bowie Knife she had received from her father as a birthday gift seemed to be the one that would make her most proud indeed.
She got elbows deep into the victims torso, the liver hanging upside down off the counter much like a fallen cord phone, the lungs cut into precise 2″ inch cubes set into an oval shape around the head, no reason.
She could feel drops running down her forehead, but they were not of sweat, Lust knew the task would be strenuous and set the air condition to an uncomfortable low, therefore this meant that the drops were of blood.
Warm blood.
Acting on impulse, she allowed herself to loose control, not just physically, but mentally.
She gave in.
She gave in to the instinct, the desire, and the want to cut flesh open.
All humans had it.
She just decided to be smart and make money while doing it.
The victims right leg spasmed as Lust smirked at this thought and continued cutting.
Tags:
blood,
insanity,
instinct,
Lust.,
mission,
murder,
story
