Ceaseless Rythyms

My eyes flitted open and my stomach contracted, causing me to jolt to awareness. The floor I had been laying on was cold, and blood stained the sleek surface, clotting and sticking to my side. The room reeked of the metallic scent; I put my sleeve up to my face to block the unbearable odor, but my position on the floor had layered it with the thick, vermillion substance, smearing it on my skin, glistening in the twilight. I gasped, heaving for breath as the smell invaded my lungs, causing tears to cultivate in the corners of my eyes. I stood up, revolted by the rancid excess of the pulp. I looked around the area, but couldn’t recognize anything. In fact, there wasn’t anything to recognize. The only thing in the room was a small flashlight that barely illuminated the blood and myself. I picked it up and set its gaze ahead of me. The line of light protruding from the bulb barely made a dent in the airless space. The hair on my body stood on end, goosebumps forming as I shivered. I looked all around myself for something, anything. But nothingness enraptured me. I started walking, feeling the utter uselessness of the movement. I walked for what could have been minutes, or hours; I walked until the tendons in my calves locked from fatigue. I stopped and sat down, tears now rolling down my face.

Suddenly, I heard a very distant noise, faint yet unmistakable: something was approaching from behind me, carrying some sort of tool. What if it’s dangerous? It could hurt you! Run! My mind raced with the possibilities as I jumped up and spun around, blinded by my own tears. I pinched my eyes closed, letting the tears fall to the ground, feeling the heat distinguish their path as they raced to the floor. All the while I focused all of my attention on the sound, on trying to discern its source. I know it’s metal, and it sounds heavy. I blinked and turned to hear the best I could. My flashlight barely illuminated the figure, dragging itself and something else along with it. As it grew closer, its details expressed themselves: it was a human-like figure, but its stride was abnormal, almost like it had broken a leg but hadn’t let it heal properly. Its skin was whiter than the concrete below it, and was mangled with deep cuts that oozed with infected blood, pus secreting from the rough cracks in the skin. Its hair was disheveled and matted with the same thick discharge. Her face was porous, with blood trickling out of various sores and scratches. And her eyes were gaping holes, blood dried to the empty sockets and sinew hanging from the empty space. My face drained of any color it had, and I stood there, unable to move from the shock of the sight. It… It’s me. She smiled, her clenched jaw drawing yet more blood from the wounds. My stomach felt as if it were a gaping hole, consuming any will or logical sense to run, as she continued forward. Her naked, slithering, writhing body continued forward, and my gaze drifted to her weapon: a rusted steak knife, flakes falling into a trail behind her. I fell to my knees, losing control of myself. Everything faded, and the last thing I saw was her crouch down and kiss my head with her chapped, cracking lips.

↞↠

She awoke to the sound of clinking metal. Her head pounded in her skull, and she could feel slivers of rough leather on her wrists, ankles, and waist. She was against a table of some sort, slightly tilted, and although her eyes were still closed, she could tell there was a bright light above her. Next to her was a man, preparing a surgery of his newest “patient”. He forced his hands into a pair of rubber gloves, making a snapping sound as they clung to his wrists. The girl went against her wear mind’s wishes and opened her eyes.

“Kennith?”

“Hello, my dear Rose. Surprised to see me?”

“What are we doing here?” She started to struggle against the restraints.

“Well, just a little procedure. Couldn’t help but notice you were screaming in your sleep.”

Kennith and Rose had known each other since they were toddlers, and they had enjoyed a close friendship. But three years ago Kennith had moved to France to go to medical school. They had tried to maintain their relationship, but they had slowly grown apart, letters sparse, visits stopped. Rose missed him dearly, and wished to see him again, but not like this.

“How are you? It’s been so long.” Rose started to relax at the sight of her old friend.

“I’m great! Since we last talked I graduated from med school and started an apprenticeship with a man called Master Galagher. Most other people went to hospitals for their next step in the medical world, but I had all the requirements for him, and he’s only ever gotten praise for his work.”

“Well, I’m happy for you.” Rose looked around the sparse room, though it was difficult to see with the intense light. She could make out a window with a man, perhaps another doctor, behind it. He was taking notes on a sheet of paper.

“Well, have to get on with the ritual. So sorry about this.”

Before Rose could respond or even question Kennith’s words, he lifted her shirt and clipped the fabric, which exposed her stomach to the cool, sterile air. She gasped at the sudden movement, yet not a second later Kennith was marking on her stomach with a pen, designating where he would puncture.

“Aren’t you going to use anesthesia? Or numb the area? Or anything?” Rose panicked at the thought, though unable to do anything but sit.

“Master says it soils the organs, makes them useless for his patients. You’re doing good so far.”

Within moments Kennith had a scalpel against her skin; he paused, and Rose could see a single tear roll down his face and tumble to the floor. “I’m so sorry.”

He began the incision, and a nightmarish scream escaped from Rose’s lips. He dragged the blade through skin and muscle, blood trickling down her stomach. The cut ran three inches deep, the pain unbearable. Rose cringed from the wound, which only made it more painful. Kennith continued with his blade, removing it and creating a line parallel to the first, traveling from one side of Rose’s abdomen to the other. His final carving on the surface connected the lines, making two flaps of skin that he clipped back, exposing the damaged muscle tissue and organs. The room started spinning, her vision fogged by tears and dizziness. She turned her head, bile spilling from her lips. She gasped for air, desperate to make the pain stop. Her head was pounding, her heartbeat sending waves through her body.

Through a raspy voice, Rose was able to mutter, “What have you become?”

At this Kennith paused, holding back his tears and wavering his grip on the blade. “I have done what I had to do to get where I am, something you wouldn’t understand, would you? You gave up on your dream as soon as it became difficult to cope with. At least I’ve put in some effort.”

Tears were flowing down Rose’s face as Kennith continued the operation. He sliced through the muscle with ease, then pinned it to the skin tissue and began work on the organs. Smooth, pink flesh hung out from the cavity in her abdomen. He severed her stomach from the rest of the digestive system with a squelch, then placed the bloody viscus into a sterile bag, using a vacuum to remove the air from the container. He did the same to her liver, kidneys, and pancreas. He carefully unpinned the muscle fibers, removing and replacing any that were too damaged to function. Rose’s vision blurred, and finally faded, putting her to rest after nearly an hour of torment.

“There we go, now you’re waking up.” Rose could barely hear the voice through the ringing in her ears. Her vision returned, though it was forced not by her, but by two devices attached to her head, clipped to her eyelids and traveling around her head vertically, connecting behind her ears and across the back of her skull. She could see Kennith, hovering over her expectantly, though he seemed different. His expression, the way he carried himself, it almost seemed joyful. Rose could still feel the aching pain of the stitches, and she wondered how long it would take for her body to shut down. At least there would be some solace in the face of death. Her heart was beating irregularly, pounding within her chest, rapidly pacing her adrenaline rush.

“You passed out on me, so I had to pump some steroids into you.” Kennith seemed nearly ecstatic at the sight of Rose’s awakening. “Now we can finish off the procedure!” He pulled what looked like a spoon out of a drawer. It was more concave, however, and a near perfect circle. One side was sharpened, forming a razor blade, which made the purpose of the tool very clear. Kennith set the tool at the corner of Rose’s eye, sending a chill down her spine. Even with the slightest amount of pressure, Rose could feel the sharp prick of the razor edge, digging into her facial tissue, blood trickling down like tears. He at least did it swiftly, hollowing her eye socket less than a second before beginning. He removed the detached eye and, not unlike the other organs, placed it in an air-tight bag. Sinew hung from the chamber, crimson blood sticking to her cheeks. He then did the same to the other eye, and within the sockets placed two rags soaked in rose oil.

“All good to go!” Kennith removed the restraints on Rose, and she tumbled to the floor, lacking the strength to hold herself up. She shook, convulsing on the ground in her adrenaline-fueled agony. She felt him place an object, some sort of device, onto her back, and the sharp pang of needles injecting themselves made her jump. “That should keep you awake.” He picked Rose up by the collar of her hospital gown and carried her into the darkness. She heard a metallic screech that echoed through the room, before he threw her down and promptly shut the door.

What felt like hours had passed before she could stand up. Why am I still alive? The utter darkness of her blindness became painfully aware to her, and she could feel an object on the ground. From a distance she could hear a scream that faded into the abyss, a mere drop in the dark. She picked the object up by its handle and started wandering. She didn’t know what she was hoping for, she just wanted to find something.

Close by, a girl woke up, her eyes flitting in the dark.