By Victoria Vassilious
By Victoria Vassilious
I was first suffocated and then raped by a serial killer. I was his 23rd Victim. I was found in pieces along side the highway in a ditch. I was the 23rd victim he hacked to pieces with a pickax found close nearby. My body parts had been laying there for 5 straight days in the 105 degree August sun. I didn’t find the scent of my own rotting carcass too pleasing. Occasionally; black crows would show up and begin to peck on my decomposing flesh, but even they didn’t find me too pleasurable.
After days of laying in pieces sizzling in this hazy heat; my mind became infused with straight delirium. Am I dead? How am I aware of my surroundings? Over top of me a giant black portal unexpectedly appeared. A large metal claw came down and grabbed the entire earth around my mutilated limbs. Up I went, and when I arrived inside this foreign unidentified craft, I was promptly thrown into a black garbage bag.
It was a frightening bumpy ride in which my head rolled from side to side. My severed toes kept lodging themselves into my nostrils and I was forced to inhale the putrefied remains.
The strange aircraft took me straight up through the hemisphere and soon entered a dark warehouse. I could hear the commotion of industrial sounds from outside of my garbage bag.
So there I sat in my bag, merely just a pile of mutilated flesh, when I jerked forward and my remains toppled over. I was finally able to peer out the drawstring opening of the bag. I soon discovered I was sitting in a line on a conveyer belt with other human bodies that were severely disfigured.
There were hundreds of bodies in front of me and in back of me. Yet I appeared to be the only one that was dismembered and crudely shoved inside a garbage bag. The man in front of me was clearly deceased with half his brain exposed and his jaw hanging on by a thread. But somehow he still managed to stand upright, though he was swaying back and forth. The conveyer belt alternated between creaking forward slowly and stopping abruptly until finally the man in front of me was first in the line.
From the cracks I watched as a team of surgeons sewed his face back together. They then pressed his brains back inside his head and crudely stitched the cranium to one piece. He stood up and turned around to face me. He noticed me and smiled and I noticed his blood stained teeth. They swiftly sprayed him down with a high pressured water hose. The workers then placed him on a separate conveyer belt which sent him downwards along to the next terminal.
It was finally my turn. A uniformed worker rushed forward and picked up the garbage bag that contained my remains. He handed the bag over to the team of surgeons. They all made a collective sigh and murmured amongst themselves. They tore open the bag and dumped out the contents. My eyes on my severed head flinched at the bright exposed light overhead of me.
“What the heck is this?”
“This must be the latest victim from The Jersey Torso murderer.”
They spread my severed limbs across a steel table. Each one of my fingers was removed from my hand which was removed from my arm which was removed from my headless torso.
“UGGH! This is going to take forever!” A masked surgeon exclaimed.
“This body will take entirely too long to repair.” Another surgeon shook his head.
They hastily sewed my limbs and head back to my torso. They made a vertical clean slice along my spine and packed the wound full of menthol rub, healing bacitracin and bandages. There was a large hump where the packed medicine slowly leaked back into my body; I felt the cooling sensation begin coursing through my veins. I almost resembled a turtle from how much medicine was packed deep into the crevice of my back.
My body was swollen and saggy and resembled the tumor ridden elephant man. Dried blood was crusted along the sutures. There were jagged deep cuts across my face and my lips had been removed so they injected a bit of silicone to create new lips except my yellow teeth remained fully exposed when I attempted to close my mouth.
“Ok guys, this is as good as it gets, let the machine do the rest of the work.”
I slowly began moving my legs and brought myself to an upright position on the steel table.
“Ok lady, get a move on it!” the workers hoisted me off the table and shoved me onto another conveyer belt. The belt creaked downward at a faster pace. I stood, swaying, dizzy and discombobulated feeling the blood oozing from my wounds. The pain was unbearable. It felt like every part of my body was in flames. My feet were ballooned to triple the size of normal with bloody sutures around my ankles.
When the belt finally came screeching to a halt I was deposited into a heap of crawling bodies. One by one the workers hastily grabbed us and connected us into the machine that had millions of tubes coming from each direction. The tubes holders protruded from my “turtle” back. One tube was connected to a pain killer, the next was connected to the nutrients, and the next was connected to the “vitality” liquid.
There I remained for the next few decades, slowly repairing from the inside out.
Here I remained for the next few decades, until I was fully restored and degenerated back into a miniature human embryo, in which they would at last thrust me back out into the world through a human vagina.