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|This short story is about a killer stalking a young woman through the streets of a fantasy city.||
Blackened, the mist swept streets of some god forsaken city, cobbled stones are trampled underfoot as a fleeting female dashes off into the haze, aghast with terror her face besmirched by tortured looks she flees the monstrous creature perusing her, entwined in petite laces and dappled corset a respected lady of an important house torn down from her throne and thrust face down in the dirt by the malicious intentions of a deranged man.
The glint of steel, the gargantuan silhouette unsheathes his tool, rasping breathes spluttered from the woman’s lips as she continued to run head long through the smog ensnaring the twisting alley-ways of the city in its icy grasp, yet the onslaught continued, the unknown assault appeared to be immune to such weakling aspects of mankind as fatigue. Ravenous hunger arose within the stalkers chest, the lust for bloodshed, the need for those delicious sounds to be uttered, slice, splash, thud, he delighted in these pursuits, where was class when you were stranded in a dimly illuminated back street and chased by a killer obsessed with the dance, the dance of death, he was judge, jury and executioner deriving depraved pleasure from genocide.
Fumble, stumble, the woman’s foot became ensnared within a crack between the cobble stones and lay there refusing to budge despite her frantic efforts to release it, manic giggles flowed from the man’s throat as he strode up behind her the female’s cries shrouded by the mist about them and hindered by the desolately populated streets at this hour of the morn. Retorted lips swathed in sadism leer downward upon the defenceless body of the woman instilling yet more blind panic within her form, ecstatically did he eviscerate, merrily did he maim, the pronged hooks nestled betwixt their respective knuckles lashing out savagely at the woman’s being rendering its tender flesh asunder.
Digits tore into her stricken husk plucking her still beating heart from her chest and popping the delicious morsel into his mouth as one would a toffee, teeth crunched, chewed and ripped savouring every last mouthful as he devoured the orphaned organ, glee filled his person as yet another of the flock fell to the flayer of flesh, such had the papers of the day dubbed him, a fitting name for a devilish man. His work was not complete yet though, oh no, now to invent a spectacle for the inevitable crowds to frown away from in disgust, slowly he hefted the woman’s corpse upward his tendons contracting almost mechanically as he implemented some of his acclaimed strength easily lifting her above himself and pinning her to a nearby bakers shop with one hand fastened around her throat.
Now was the time to concoct the scene for his intended spectacle, curiously he searched the vicinity of the bakers shop scouring the alley beside it for any visible means of supporting the female’s form to the buildings door, at last he found what he had been looking for, a discarded length of steel perhaps once used for an iron fence now fallen into disarray and ruin, yes this would suit his needs nicely. Cruel fingers coiled about the metal rail and accompanying spike then once again lifting and pinning the woman to the oaken door with one hand he thrust the iron spike through the female’s chest piercing the upper ribcage at its centre and was greeted with a satisfying spray of blood.
Gnarled digits dipped into the blood spurting from the corpse painting intricate words upon the translucent window beside the door” The flayer retires for another night, despair until the time is right, be thee rich or be thee poor, you’ll soon be stapled to death’s door.” With his message delivered to some extent the beast strides defiantly off into the fog his silhouette gradually dissipating as a distraught cry slips from the bakers lips as he rises with the dawn.
|An Eye for an Eye||An artist and his art|
|Prologue of an artist and his art|