Geinecology

ROUND TWENTYEIGHT

14th November to 21st November 2010 (17:00 (5pm) - WdC-time)

Write a story in the "AMERICAN GOTHIC" sub-genre - in the "SPLATTERPUNK" style - for the prompt "Write a horror story as told from the monsters perspective."

GOTHIC – American Gothic – Similar to the English but with an American twang and dealing with the psychological interest in abhorrent behaviour.

SPLATTERPUNK – Go for gross-out and visceral storyline; told in a hard gritty style, filled with blood, guts and gore.

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Geinecology

By Indelibleink

"Edward! I'm getting a terrible chill in here. It is December, you know. You haven't even started a fire yet. Would you just be happier if your poor mother simply froze to death?"

"I'm starting the fire now, Mother." I really wish she wasn't so critical of me. Bet she wouldn't be if she knew what the Nazis did to people who were critical of them. "You know, mother, you can come down from your bedroom and join me. You're not an invalid, you know."

"I know you have pornography down there, Edward. I don't want to see that filth. Devil's work - all of it - you fool! And I warned you about the evils of women long ago, but you stupidly chose to ignore your mother, didn't you?"

"Mother! Please stop it! There's no pornography down here." It's all hidden in the kitchen. "And I do stay away from those kinds of women, Mother. You know that..." Well, except for late at night, after you're asleep. "I'll come up and get you right after I'm done cleaning up..." ...what's left of Mrs. Hogan, that is! People just don't appreciate the culinary value of a well-seasoned intestine for breakfast anymore.

"All right, Edward, I am coming down. It's freezing up here. And that fire had better be roaring. And there'd better not be any pornography down there. And..."

"Okay, Mother, okay." Let's see now...I think everything is in the refrigerator: heads, hearts, livers, genitalia, intestines. I think we're good. No porn... Oops! Eyeballs in the ashtray. Mother would've simply flipped over that. Better get those out of 'sight', but pronto! "Yes, come down, Mother, the fire's quite warm." Perfect for toasting bits of liver on a stick, just like marshmallows! "I'll be in the kitchen, Mother, doing a few dishes..." ...and taking off Mrs. Hogan's panties; almost forgot I had them on! "Do you want anything from the kichen, Mother? Coffee? Tea?" Mrs. Hogan's urine, obtained right after she realized I was about to take a hack-saw to her neck? It's still 'good' almost three years later...

"No, you make terrible tea and coffee. I don't think you even know how to boil water, you idiot...Edward! Those are very unusual legs on the coffee table, they look like human bones! Where did you get..."

"Deer bones, Mother, they're deer leg bones..." ...from 'Dear' Mrs.Hogan! Ha-ha! "And my coffee and tea isn't that bad..." ...especially when you consider it's from ground bone marrow and other body parts, it's really quite tasty! "Oh, and Mother, what do you think of the new lamp shade on the lamp by the end table by your chair?"

"It's downright ugly, Edward. The color is faded in some places. It's like it's made of different shades of skin-tone fabric. Where in heaven's name did you get the material for this ghastly thing?"

"When I butchered some hogs, Mother, I kept the hide for a lamp shade. I thought it was clever." Actually, the 'hog's' name was Mrs. Hogan. "And by the way, Mother, I ran into Bernice Wordon last night."

"Really, Edward, I haven't seen Bernice in ages. Do tell her to stop by next time you see her. Can you handle that, Edward?"

"I'd be happy to, Mother..." ...of course you can tell her yourself, if you'd like. Her decapitated body is hanging upside down in the barn. I'm sure she'd love to see you if I could remember where I put her head. And intestines. And heart. And liver.

"Edward...there's someone at the door. It looks like Frank Worden from the Sheriff's office. Wonder what they want..."

"I'll get it Mother." I probably should have thought the thing about abducting the Deputy Sheriff's mother through a bit more...Had a feeling that might come back to bite me...Well, I guess the party's over.

"Hello Sheriff Jenkins. Deputy Worden. We should probably go straight out to the barn...Follow me..."

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Words: 654

(Author's Note: The above is a fictionalized conversation between a very real person, Edward Gein, and his mother, in 1957. His mother, who was very domineering and had raised Edward believing that sex was evil, died in 1945. Edward was fascinated by the female body, and after his mother died, turned to grave robbing to obtain parts of the female anatomy. When grave robbing no longer got the job done, he began killing local women, focusing on those who were about his mother's age when she died. Eventually, he constructed human skin "slip-ons" that he would get into and then basically take on the personality of his deceased mother. He kept a shoebox full of female genitalia, and had all kinds of handmade knick-knacks from other body parts. He also was known as being mild-mannered, polite and civil to those in public, up until his death in prison at age seventy-seven in 1984. Gein's relationship with his deceased mother is commonly credited as being the template for Hitchcock's Psycho as well as numerous other horror stories and films. For further information on this charmer, visit http://www.houseofhorrors.com/gein.htm and/or http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward_Gein)