What Is Inside

Serena was given a small dose of anesthetic, just enough to let her sleep on the way from her house to mine. The black-haired little girl was so light, I could nearly carry her and Morgan at the same time- one in each arm- if only he was there. In particular, Serena was also one of my only captives who seemed somewhat suspicious about being offered a drink, but still believed I was trustworthy enough not to harm her. Certainly, this is my same old trick. I am considering using a more underhanded method of retrieval (such as physical capture), yet as of now, I've no inspirations. I do know what I am to do with Serena, however.

Once I had carried her inside, I had a thick, clean quilt ready on the floor to absorb whatever might leave her body. I placed Serena down on the blanket, and waited about twenty minutes until she began to wake up. During that time, I ensured the house was secure so she could not run away. Often, though, I have found that when I have more than one captive injured or dead, the others will not abandon them. It must be the factor of shock value. Still, it is a more effective tool of restraint than any lock.

Eventually, Serena regained consciousness. She looked a trifle confused to be inside my house, and asked questioningly if I was inviting her over for some activity. I told her (in a calm voice) that yes, I had. I could tell she was still quite drowsy, yet I was slightly nervous that the upcoming pains might jolt her into awakening. The only way to discover that was to proceed. I picked up Serena's light frame by her shirt's collar with a keenly sharp knife ready in hand.

Oh, how powerful the voice becomes when life is threatened! Serena immediately made an attempt with her feet to kick me, but the impact was not bothersome. To daze her, I thrust her back onto the carpet; an easy feat, considering her petite build. Serena's head struck the hard floor first, a small trickle of blood jetting out on the impact. She thrashed violently onto her side, trying to rise to her feet, and I pinned my knee down on her throat to stop her. Without giving her any time to reflex, I next slashed a clean slice across her left wrist, cutting deeply into the soft white flesh.

Predictably, Serena seemed about to scream. I prepared to move up to her throat to break her vocal cords, unwilling to hear any such noises; but her throat would have to remain unbroken for later in this process. Instead, I told Serena that death was approaching in less than ten minutes, and never again would she have to suffer. She answered, in a voice near weeping, that she wanted to return to the Rainbow and that I had no fucking right to do anything to her, or else I would be arrested. I felt the urge to roll my eyes at that; and so continued to work, my fingers almost trembling around the knife's handle.

After feeling Serena's chest and abdomen for where her ribcage ended, I then planned where I would make the next slice. In her drowsy state, and bleeding heavily from her sliced wrist, Serena would not be able to put up much resistance.

Moving carefully, I sliced into Serena's stomach, my knife penetrating deep enough to almost pierce her through. Her body seized up in response, drawing her legs violently up to her chest, and crying out sharply. I shoved her back into position roughly irritation creeping into my movements. Quickly I made another slice cutting lower into her trunk before taking the severed flesh into my hands and peeling it back, exposing her stomach and other gastric equipment. The sight of the living organs caused Serena's face to become ashen.

I felt her set of intestines first before moving up to her liver and other gastric organs. I would remove the intestines first, and so grabbed a section and began to pull on them. (I was wearing gloves, because intestines are full of harmful germs.) The loops were fastened tightly, but I could not ascertain where, prompting me to simply tug harder. I am unsure of how painful this was for Serena. She was twisting her body in resistance, and trying to grab my arms or other parts of me. Unbothered, I continued to dismantle her viscera; I was pulling harder and harder, like one would with a piece of stuck rope. Bloody fluids were emitting from the cavity. And amongst all this, Serena was virtually silent.

Uncertain of whether Serena was alive at the time, I jabbed her underarm with my blade. She did not jerk away, although the movements visible in her face and chest revealed her life. Peering back to her mostly-loosed coils, I severed them with a slash of the knife. They were thick, heavy, and striated, long enough at least to wrap around her. I was tempted to try that, but now, I would focus on the business of truly killing her.

Serena's heart was pulsing away so quickly, her blood spurted out like gushing water the instant my knife pierced the skin of her other wrist. She let out a shrill noise that resembled a strangled scream, her blood flowing out with the speed of fluid from a tap. I entwined her length of intestine around her hands and placed them round her neck. (The organs were surprisingly supple in restraint, I found.) The lower half of her shirt and much of her pants were soaked in crimson sufficient to lure animals for a hundred miles.

Finally, I sliced another opening onto her chest. I was aiming for her heart, and therefore had to cut underneath one of her breasts, nearly removing the entire thing completely. From there, I reached into the narrow crevice with my right hand and located the heart, the organ throbbing in my fingers. Serena was finally mostly still, her head fallen loosely to the floor. I tugged several times before her numerous arteries broke, making a geyser of dark blood follow the removal. In my fingers, I felt its frantic motions rapidly fade, before ceasing forever.

There was no way Serena could be alive by now. My own heart was pounding away in my chest, adrenaline still running throughout my undamaged veins. The thrills were now over. And I would not have to face the stiff consequences, or even clean up the great mess, because all of this happened within the safe confines of my mind. Serena is alive, and she is well. With that in mind, I stood up and playfully kicked the face of her corpse.

Grizzly Bear