The Mutilation

The Mutilation

The room lit dimly
A factory abandoned
Instruments of fear await their use

The victim awakens
Lying chained to a table
Knowledge of how she got there unknown

Disorientated
Where am I, how did I get here?
A loud bang of a steel door, panic.

A man approaches
Tall, darkly dressed, face covered
Breathing heavy, almost psychotic in his walk

Reaching above me
He illuminates the old lamp
Positioning it into place

Panicked I try to scream
But no sound is made, I'm frozen
Ripping open my shirt, he strokes my midriff

His eyes smile insanely
As he draws across my stomach
Preparing to make his first incision

He cuts through my flesh
A scream finally finds my voice
As the pain and blood shock my being

He reaches inside me
Pulls at intestines, pokes at organs
Deriving pleasure from this mutilation

Crimson blood lines the walls
The butchering of my life continues
Accepting the irony of what I've always known as truth

The pain overcomes me
As I finally lose consciousness
Embracing my imminent release from this life

The autopsy continues
As organs are held like trophies
Feeding this animal's freak sickness

In a form unknown
I seem to watch on like an outsider
marvelling at how such an event can give such joy

Then in an act of climax
He tears out my heart, like so many before
Only this time I can forgive, for at least he ends the pain.


****PLEASE NOTE****PLEASE NOTE****PLEASE NOTE****

I am aware that this piece changes from the third to first person after the second stanza and although I understand this is unorthodox and may be confusing to some it was intentional