For as long as I am, nothing shall outlive me. I am the eternal slumber, the bain to forever, or better yet immortality.
Having to do this "Job" murdering, taking a life, or just "go beyond" is nothing short or a psychopath's biggest dream come true. The pure enjoyment of just… ripping out the guts of a still warm body is just ecstasy I can't even describe. The ribcage is sturdy, but can easily be broken or torn open if you know how, the brain is a mess after too many hits to the head… journaling everything that I had to do and or have done is a way to decompress after a hard days work after all. Where did I stop? Oh, yes, I remember now.
Tedious it is to saw through bone and flesh, it is still easier to dissolve it in an acid formula as to the smell… we do discuss. I keep the eyes and organs, they bring in the most. He loves certain eye colors more than others but, I do not give a second thought to such things. The moneys good and it keeps me entertained. Everyday there is a new thing to do, a new sheep to be dismembered and for all I care for, the coin is plenty.
The day is restless but for that the night brings ease. Although, I wish to cleave and tear throughout but… the body is not made for my intentions. So I build a case, a… shrine to the work of art I do. It never finishes… it always crumbles… decays and rots… that alone gives reasons to do more. More than I need to be doing.
Sharing is caring, right? But I keep all this to myself as to be the only one keeping the fun. No one dares to intervene or say what I have to do. Being the best comes with perks, perks that most wouldn't want to have. But, I digress. Feeling the blood on my hands, the horror in their eyes and the overflowing excitement within is all I could ever need… no one could ever take this away from me as long as I live. Even in death I shall continue being merciless and hunt my prey for all of eternity!
The rooms I was given are stained a dark brown… it reeks of dried blood, feces, piss and other bodily fluids. But as I've said, we do not talk about that. The chains are old, the wood chipped and the tools worn from decades of work, yet, they look pristine. Keeping good care of your tools is a must for anyone. A soldier wouldn't win a war with a uncleaned and unkept weapon, a apothecary would bring nothing for if he never prepares remedies n supplies. Oh the irony in that does not past me. It really does not.
I have dissected, children, killed parents and torn apart the elderly. I do have a code, a code that breaks when patients wears thin. I have tortured lords and the left behind all the same. For if you are in my hands… you all are equal. I shall rip of your nails, teeth and hair the same, pierce your skin in the locations I've done many times before… the repetition never gets old, it really does not. It's almost orgasmic at times!