Wednesday, 25 November 2020

Your Mid-Week Update for 11/25/20

Do you ever dream of a specific murder, knowing you will never be able to see it come to fruition? Sometimes, time, distance, or the laws of physics intervene but one day, I’m going to be the first woman to commit murder on the moon and then nothing can stop me.

In reality, it’s more likely that Casey will be the one to earn that title but it will be a leap forward for womankind regardless.

So anyways, I had a dream where I basically skinned a man alive. I cut a piece on the inside of his elbow and dragged it towards his fingers like I was pulling a sleeve off (because it was a dream, of course, it came off in one piece. So I did that to both his arms and naturally he was screaming bloody murder the whole time.

Am I allowed to use that phrase? Can you actually say “screaming bloody murder” in the context of a bloody murder in which the victim screamed?

Who would I ask about that?

So I tore the skin off his forearms like a glove, he was screaming, it was all going fine. Then I cut just below his clavicle and around his back as a reference point because obviously, you have to save the head for last. The head is the best part because if you do it right, they’ll still be alive even after they’ve lost most of the blood in their body. So long as the brain as not registered that the heart has stopped pumping blood, you’ve got a bit of time on your hands.

Have you ever watched a person realize that they are dead? Not “going to die”. Actually dead. It’s fascinating. It’s not the same as someone accepting that they will die. Those reactions are pretty standard. Some accept it, some are terrified, some are confused. Nothing overly exciting (though if you get a chance to watch the light leave a person’s eyes, it is truly magical).

But watching someone realize that they have already died. It’s something else.

See, if their body has died before their brain has full registered it, there are a few seconds or even minutes where you can see on their face – especially their eyes – that they’re existing in a way that they shouldn’t. It’s like for that short time, they are an alien or a monster on this planet, completely unwelcome even by themselves. They shouldn’t be here and they don’t want to be here, but they’re trapped.

It’s quite a fascinating expression.

So I always try to leave the head for last.

In my dream, I outlined the head so I knew where to stop carving, and then started doodling. It’s really fun to cut pictures into flush, like tattoos. It’s a little easier than shaping leather and if your knife is sharp enough, it’s like cutting construction paper, but you are leaving a lasting impression in a way that’s only for the two of you. It’s an intimate art show – though not like the one I convinced James to go to with me on a dare and we ended up getting kicked out for laughing too loudly. This is about the psychological aspect as much as it is the physical torture.

I remember I wasn’t as concerned about that, though. I suppose, it’s really weird to be thinking inside a dream without somewhat realizing that it’s a dream. I was more focused on making a map. For the life of me, I wish I could remember what was on the map but I distinctly remember that I drew a map on this man’s torso (with valleys and mountains and stretches of road and rivers carved in). It was very detailed.

By the time I had finished with my mysterious map, there wasn’t much of his torso left, so I dug to the deepest point and sliced the whole thing off so I could preserve the map. Then I moved down to his legs and peeled them off the same way I had his arms. Somewhere near the end of the mapmaking was when he stopped screaming and I remember stabbing him in the thigh to see if he was alive (he was) so I kept on going. After I had used his skin like leg warmers, I went to his feet and at each toe, I pulled as hard as I could until I’d dislocated it, and then put it off where the bone separated.

Dream physics. We’ve discussed this already.

I also know it was a dream because everything was covered in blood. Me, him, the floor, the walls, the ceiling. But nothing was drying. I have a love/hate relationship with dried blood. On one hand, I love the reminders of all the lives I’ve taken and being able to peel or scrub them before bedtime as a way of commemorating the day’s work. On the other hand, dried blood doesn’t come out of ANYTHING. True, I have perfected my techniques for keeping clothes clean, and all the chemicals that actually do their job, but I wouldn’t have had to if blood wasn’t so damn hard to get out.

The best part of my dream was definitely the thick, dark red liquid that shone on the surface of the walls like it was fresh despite knowing it would take hours to get the body to the state it was in.

After I’d removed parts of his toes, I stabbed him in both thighs (right where I’d made the first stab – reduce, reuse, recycle), and pulled downwards, tearing at the muscles and tissue underneath until it all fell open to the bone. I left that open, however, I don’t know why I didn’t tear it off as well.

Regardless, I then moved up to the head, where his face was stained with tears and arterial spray. I don’t think he even had the strength to beg for his life at this point. I cut off both of his eyelids and his lips (but left his mouth there, I just took the pillow-y bit). I stuffed all four on top of his tongue and made him swallow. I could see the bits moving down his throat and on track to his stomach because it was all open but still functioning (DREAM). It was fascinating.

You know, if my life had taken another path, I might have become a nurse or doctor. My fascination for human anatomy takes on a more practical nature instead.

More practical than being a doctor, you say?

Shut up.

Once his eyeballs dried out, I just plucked them right out of their sockets and left them hanging there. But I did dig through to his brain through the eye socket and poke around there for a bit. I left a few knicks and cuts where I could reach but otherwise, I was just trying to mess with him.

I played with his brain for a little while and then I carved a straight line across where his eyes had been, circled his skull and peeled off the top. There was still the skull in the way but the top half of his head was gone.

That was when the man opened his mouth and I think he was going to try and speak.

And then I woke up.

Now I really want to try some of the stuff I dreamed about but how the fuck am I going to do all of that? In the middle of a pandemic? With my budget? Are you kidding me?

Not to mention all that blood would dry so fast in this weather and then I’d be left with this huge mess to clean up.

I was so excited but I just don’t think it can ever happen.

Which is such a shame because it looked really cool.

Oh well.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

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