Inundated Mutilation -- Parts 1 to 5

The Hunt

Along the path
leaves rustled
swirling around her feet.
The breeze was strong
her will was not;
soon she began to run.

This was the part
that was fun.

Shadows lingered on the path
lengthening in artificial light.
She saw these with a gasp, and
I with her, though more in delight.

Twelve blocks
until she was home.
Would a short cut be safe?
A backwards glance.
Shadows danced
and weaved.

Flickered in the

evening breeze.

She turned back to run, once more,
only to release a muffled scream.
Violet eyes widened in recognition;
further still when she saw something gleam.


The Capture

I dragged a squealing girl
into the waiting dark.
It ate us up entirely
for journey to embark.

Knowing these streets as I did
I ripped the girl in close.
Don't you dare try to flee
or you'll be without clothes.

It wasn't long until
we'd reached my ideal destination.
Into my basement did we climb,
with little procrastination.
For I'd have slaughtered her, you see.

I ensured if she cooperated
she'd walk out alive.
But if she'd squirm or squeal or flee
she'd find her gutties knived.
I knew where she lived.

Captured, at last!
I shivered with glee,
just as she had
by the side of the sea.
What a pleasure it was
to have her here with me.
What a pleasant surprise
that made me giddy.

To the Table she went.

The Rapture

I threw her across the room,
where she landed in a heap.
In the flourescent lights her tears
stood out like vivid specks of light
and all I could do was laugh.
She huddled in a ball;
my boots and I at fast pace
met her within moments.
Belted her in the face -
oh to see her head fly back,
neck almost snap
was so divine;
the crack like music to my soul
ecstatic to finally be in control.

And then the blood began to flow...

I grabbed her luscious locks
and ripped them in an
upwards motion.
She squealed and stood
so hurridly.
What a sight that was.

The fear was strong,
she reeked of it.
The sweat and adrenline.
The noxious scent near got me off -
but there was time for that
yet.

I slammed her onto
the cold metal table.
Her head hit it hard
and she fell.
Almost unconcious,
unwilling to stand -
I had to heave her up there
myself.

She groaned as I tied
her wrists to each side,
seperated her legs
and then bound them.
Her dress was a mess
and her face, oh gods bless,
was smothered in
sweet cruor.

A delectable sight
that some may have called a fright
but to me it was pure sexy bliss.
And with that I decided
(for I was so delighted)
that I'd have to give her a kiss.

I walked around to her head
and I tilted my own.
Unfocused eyes scanned the surroundings
to no avail.
She would come around soon enough.

A vial
once containing eyedrops
lies close at hand.
I take this,
open with care
and tenderly allow
four droplets to fall upon

each cheek
and two upon
each lip.

I watch as whereever the drops hit
begins to smoke
and slowly disolve.
Twenty cent coins
would fit in her cheeks,
and her lips are just
withered away.

A slender blade
waiting within
my coat pocket
finally comes out to play.
Sharp enough to slit
the shawl
the lace
the slip beneath
and reveal the bounty beyond.

Rock hard and ready for action.
Waiting for her to awaken

I lean on my elbows and sculpt

her fragile form.

Tracing her collarbones,

stroking her neck.
Then delicately carve into her chest;
love hearts around the nipples,
zigzags between her breasts
that lead to her navel.
With a sharpened knitting needle
I pierce several places.
So artful,
and careful to avoid
vital organs.
I watch as she moans,
stirs,
eyes still unseeing
but she registers the pain.

'Owww,'
she whimpers,
like a child.
A slow whine as she realises
it's there.

I grin, slyly,
hardly bearing to

contain myself.

Rusted, filthy needles
used more than once;
a littly pile
lies in wait.

Each syringe is filled with, what?
One contains a mild sedative
one contains diluted speed.
One holds adrenachrome
and the other - heroine.
Two provokers,
two downers,
plunged in at once
and injected.
She screams and her eyes
burst open;
she lunges against the restraint
chest first.
My eyes light up
as she struggles,
her naked body
pierced and wounded -
and we've not even begun.

I walk around the table
to where my tools all wait
as gleeful as I.
I select a sledgehammer
and test its weight.
I glance at the girl
and decide it's alright;

slowly, towards the girl
who's finally awake.
At last ready to play.
Her eyes are wild, she's still not aware
where she is, how she got here.
I'm sure she'll recollect the thoughts soon.
Two hits of acid
pushed under her tongue.
The drug disipates into her system
to join its lethal friends.
I raise the hammer, admiring it,
watch the girl still squirm.

I take my aim,
trying not to be distracted
by the form she'd tantalised me with
all too many times.

I faltered, remembering
all those good times.
Her jumping around on the bed
like a spastic
undoubtably well high on something.
Her boyfriend,
as bare as she,
slapping her hard across the face
sending her spiralling out of sight.
Sparked inside even as a memory.

There was me, across the street,
ready for action.
How delightful to see someone
acting out my urges.

I'd watch him beat her
feeling angered
that I couldn't help
but also that
he'd be so cruel.
I'd watch him take her -
she didn't mind,
she loved the way he treated her.

This may sound deluded,
but there was no masochist greater
than this one.

Her form writhed back into focus
and I remembered what was to happen.
Casually, I raise the sledgehammer
and bring it full force onto her shins.
I'll show you what it's like to be
a pain-loving fool
oh sweet pitiful lady.

Twice to each skin,
once to each knee.
Again on the humorous
and its cousin.
Yes, I thought it was.

It was in slowed time

that I felt the bones shatter,

heard them splinter,

saw her legs crack, bruise,

stand out at odd angles

or cave straight in. 

She screamed,
the agony plain
on her beautiful face.
I watched, perplexed
thinking she ought to
have enjoyed what I delivered.
Perhaps not enough drugs?

I replace my hammer
with a scalpal.
The sharpest, shiniest, largest
of my twelve.
At her side,
where she whined
and cried and cried
(me thankful for the pleasant
man who'd soundproofed my basement,
tinted the window;
and too for the distance of the neighbours
and town, not to mention
the ease of moving between
here and there;
but all that is neither
here nor there
right now)

all I could do was smile

in ecstacy.

With tender brow I watched,
sympathising.
I liked it too,
don't worry.
I shushed her,
she lay still.
Just like that.
Calmly, we connected the dots.
Scalpal slid in with such ease
and dragged through skin
muscle tissue and sinnew
so delicate
just like her face.
Left her abdomen open
for all to see.
Her stomach,
the tip of her beating heart.
Even her lower ribs
were just visible.
Mostly we could see
her intestines, her liver,
most delectable meals
and I just couldn't wait.
I swapped my simple scalpal
for tiny leather bag.
Undid the string
plunged hand within
and produced my next weapon.
Rusted nails, a small handful,
smiling at my prey.
I watched her discomfort
comfortably,
and promptly began my own voodoo.
A pin in the stomach,
two in the spleen,
three in the liver,
in intestines?
Seventeen.
In the large intestines,
another four, because
I needed to needle the kidneys
as well.
Pancreas I could see,
and I dug my fingers around
it. Tightened my grip
and tore it straight from her guts.
The blood on my fingers
was warm and divine.
What pleasure it was
she was finally mine.

She spasmed sudennly
on my operating table.
Her naked, wounded form
like some fantastical fable.
I watched apathetic
as her head turned to me.
Large eyes now pleading
for true sympathy.
But I just shook my head,
as though at a child.
This was the death she deserved
the kind she'd acquired.

She'd spent too many days
teasing me she existed.
She'd come straight to my clutches,
into my mind so twisted.
She'd danced for me daily
behind windowpane.
She'd caressed me sensually each night,
in dreams quite insane.
Now these fantasies I lived,
and I mounted her before
she died and went all cold
offering the disease of a dead whore.

Oh, yes...
She had a price to pay.
I recited this as she screamed
and squealed in agony
beneath me.
Fearful, tearful, drugged out of her mind.
Not realising how we were
erotically entwined.

It was my final plunge
that took her final breath.
Yes it was me and me alone
that caused her darling death.


She'd stolen my heart,
it was not longer there.
So I stole her soul.
It was only fair.