Post by Aerynn on Mar 17, 2009 16:36:48 GMT -5
A young man strolled along the road oblivious to the world around him. MP3 player in and texting his recently acquired girlfriend. His life was going great and now he was headed to what was touted to be one of the best nightclubs in the city. He grinned up at the stars that seemed to be smiling down on him. This meant that he did not see the small man standing in the shadows of the alley he was passing, it also meant he did not see the man dart out behind him and reach for his neck. The first he knew something was wrong was when the world seemed to blink and suddenly he was lying on his back being dragged into the darkness.
Grigori worked quickly, using a scalpel to slice through the man's clothes, ripping them free with a flick of his hand. He ignored the wild panic in the eyes of the man, who at this point could not speak, could not move, found it hard even to blink.
After tossing aside the ruined garments Grigori reached into another pocket and pulled out a 8 inch jag of carbon steel, what any good whaler would recognise as a flensing knife.
He reached for the mans arm and with an almost loving caress shaved off a millimetre of nicely tanned skin. He stroked the man's arm back and forth with the knife, each time removing another curl of flesh. For 15 minutes the process continued until all of the flesh down to the muscle on each of the man's arms had been cut away and laid in a neat pile.
By now a reasonable pool of blood had formed under the man's prone torso and his skin was looking rather pale. Grigori paused in his work and placed a hand over the man's chest. A beam of half visible energy bridged the gap between palm and chest and the blood oozing from the exposed muscle slowly stopped.
Grigori gently wiped the blood from the blade of his knife with a scrap of cloth and replaced it in his jacket.
From the same pocket he extracted a dull metal blade, blackened and stained. Holding it firmly he pressed it against the man's wrist. With a sibilant hiss the blade glowed briefly and sliced a burning path through tendons and bones to cleanly sever the man's hand, he reached over and did the same to the other appendage, removing it cleanly at the wrist. He then proceeded to slice each finger off the hand and then each hand into the separate joints. Lying them almost reverentially on the ground he reached for his belt, which held a thick coil of steel wire. Using a pair of snips from yet another pocket he cut the metal into a few dozen 3 inch sections. One end of each piece of metal was then pushed into a section of finger or hand producing finally a macabre manikin hand.
Setting these aside he moved back to the body, a quick glance at the man's face showed that he had obviously descended into a deep state of shock and would not be regaining conciousness any time soon. Retrieving the scalpel he had used earlier Grigori slit the man from his crotch to the base of his neck, following with a horizontal cut across his chest.
With practiced ease he peeled away the flesh to reveal a ribcage glistening in plasma and held together by a host of purple-red muscles. He watched the shallow rise and fall of the ribs as his victim breathed. Reaching again for his blackened blade Grigori carefully traced around the front edge of the ribs, slicing neatly through cartilage and muscle to remove the entire front portion. Lifting it away he revealed the man's organs, still working frantically to keep him alive. The chest cavity opened he collected the hands that he had left a few feet away and using another piece of wire attached them firmly back to the man's wrists, left and right reversed.
His work nearly done Grigori rocked back on his heels to admire his handy work. Not the best or most intricate he'd ever done but a good start for a new city. His final act was to loop a noose of rope around the man's ankles and through the length of the rope over the edge of the fire escape above him. He stood and stretched, careful not to step in any of the blood he had left on the floor. He bent down and scooped up the skin he had removed from the man's arms and stuffed it into a zip lock bag which went into the backpack he retrieved from behind a dumpster.
Taking one last look at the still living body at his feet Grigori felt at most a vague satisfaction. With an effortless leap he landed on the fire escape above him and picked up the rope that had coiled there. Walking to the end that overhung the street slightly he looped it once round the railing. Playing out the slack to the other end he took a second to release the magic that had both been keeping the man alive and paralysed.
A bloodcurdling scream rent the night, describing in a single deafening wall of sound all the horrors that the man's body had endured. Grigori stepped off the fire escape and dropped to the ground holding the rope's end in his hand. The noose around the man's legs snapped tight and he was hoisted violently into the air to swing upside down at the edge of the alley. This also had the effect of spilling all his organs from his gaping chest cavity, effectively killing him instantly and cutting off the scream.
Grigori brushed some dust off his sleeve and walked calmly out the other end of the alley and off into Cheshire city's night.
Grigori worked quickly, using a scalpel to slice through the man's clothes, ripping them free with a flick of his hand. He ignored the wild panic in the eyes of the man, who at this point could not speak, could not move, found it hard even to blink.
After tossing aside the ruined garments Grigori reached into another pocket and pulled out a 8 inch jag of carbon steel, what any good whaler would recognise as a flensing knife.
He reached for the mans arm and with an almost loving caress shaved off a millimetre of nicely tanned skin. He stroked the man's arm back and forth with the knife, each time removing another curl of flesh. For 15 minutes the process continued until all of the flesh down to the muscle on each of the man's arms had been cut away and laid in a neat pile.
By now a reasonable pool of blood had formed under the man's prone torso and his skin was looking rather pale. Grigori paused in his work and placed a hand over the man's chest. A beam of half visible energy bridged the gap between palm and chest and the blood oozing from the exposed muscle slowly stopped.
Grigori gently wiped the blood from the blade of his knife with a scrap of cloth and replaced it in his jacket.
From the same pocket he extracted a dull metal blade, blackened and stained. Holding it firmly he pressed it against the man's wrist. With a sibilant hiss the blade glowed briefly and sliced a burning path through tendons and bones to cleanly sever the man's hand, he reached over and did the same to the other appendage, removing it cleanly at the wrist. He then proceeded to slice each finger off the hand and then each hand into the separate joints. Lying them almost reverentially on the ground he reached for his belt, which held a thick coil of steel wire. Using a pair of snips from yet another pocket he cut the metal into a few dozen 3 inch sections. One end of each piece of metal was then pushed into a section of finger or hand producing finally a macabre manikin hand.
Setting these aside he moved back to the body, a quick glance at the man's face showed that he had obviously descended into a deep state of shock and would not be regaining conciousness any time soon. Retrieving the scalpel he had used earlier Grigori slit the man from his crotch to the base of his neck, following with a horizontal cut across his chest.
With practiced ease he peeled away the flesh to reveal a ribcage glistening in plasma and held together by a host of purple-red muscles. He watched the shallow rise and fall of the ribs as his victim breathed. Reaching again for his blackened blade Grigori carefully traced around the front edge of the ribs, slicing neatly through cartilage and muscle to remove the entire front portion. Lifting it away he revealed the man's organs, still working frantically to keep him alive. The chest cavity opened he collected the hands that he had left a few feet away and using another piece of wire attached them firmly back to the man's wrists, left and right reversed.
His work nearly done Grigori rocked back on his heels to admire his handy work. Not the best or most intricate he'd ever done but a good start for a new city. His final act was to loop a noose of rope around the man's ankles and through the length of the rope over the edge of the fire escape above him. He stood and stretched, careful not to step in any of the blood he had left on the floor. He bent down and scooped up the skin he had removed from the man's arms and stuffed it into a zip lock bag which went into the backpack he retrieved from behind a dumpster.
Taking one last look at the still living body at his feet Grigori felt at most a vague satisfaction. With an effortless leap he landed on the fire escape above him and picked up the rope that had coiled there. Walking to the end that overhung the street slightly he looped it once round the railing. Playing out the slack to the other end he took a second to release the magic that had both been keeping the man alive and paralysed.
A bloodcurdling scream rent the night, describing in a single deafening wall of sound all the horrors that the man's body had endured. Grigori stepped off the fire escape and dropped to the ground holding the rope's end in his hand. The noose around the man's legs snapped tight and he was hoisted violently into the air to swing upside down at the edge of the alley. This also had the effect of spilling all his organs from his gaping chest cavity, effectively killing him instantly and cutting off the scream.
Grigori brushed some dust off his sleeve and walked calmly out the other end of the alley and off into Cheshire city's night.