Lie down flat. Don’t move. This will be quick. Possibly painless. Don’t ask me questions. I’m blind to your pain. You’re lucky, they’d scour your body. Leaving no remains. I will at least let your body linger till my nose can no longer handle the stench.

A face popped up on the screen, and everything went black. Kind of like when you switch settings on a camera. It then came back, light flooded through my irises, and they contracted only letting enough light in. I broke his bones, and my face remained. First his arm, then one. Finger. At. A. Time.
The gain of his screams made my ears crackle. Kind of like when you blow a car speaker. The table was shiny, but had a brushed luster. Stainless steal. It’s hard for the bacteria to live on the surface. Very easy to clean. Usually their fecal matter seeps through.

Onto the severance. They can no longer be attached to me. The synthetic tubes they make me attach from them to me, I take out, and l lay them on the floor. For reuse on the next, the next, and the next. The patients, they await this experience. We grow excited in anticipation. We sterilize, knowing what a waste it is. It makes them feel good about being there. When they see the white walls, the white gowns, the teal masks, and head wear.

Lay down smiling, exit empty.

Enters the next. This one seems different. His eyes made contact with mine. They weren’t drawn to the white lights like the moths. Very stoic. This is foreign to me. We never broke contact.

He had a tattoo running from his ribcage down to his thigh. Starting on the seventh rib, the tree ran straight down, the roots reach to the back of the thigh. No hair follicles daring to grow

I could feel his inhales from where I stood. The small hairs on my face stood on end. The tubes laying on the floor will be a waste.

He whispered before laying on the table “ata ratzah l’ olam l’ heviyn shly milah”.
My attempts to attach the tubes became pointless, I shuddered at the discipline I might get.

So it began. As I broke fingers, and snapped his bones, his face remained. My eyes widened. No longer stoic in my practice. I glanced around at the monitors. Not one flickered on for further instruction. His fingers broke like the others. I then moved to his ribs. I cut and pulled back the skin on my first rib. Gliding through his skin easily. Ink started to flow out. It burned my hands.
I watched it spider web throw my index and onto my thumb till it engulfed my right hand.

Manic. I watched as the ink poured out and dripped to the floor . Moving amongst itself on the floor.
Looking, scouring, for a host.

It has deemed me worthy. Slowly through my feet and up to my waste. Sweat dripped in my eyes. The patient laid in wait.

Falling to the floor, my body convulsed. Monitors began to turn. It has made it’s way to my innards.
Faces appeared. This time it didn’t work. No reset. No camera settings changed. I remained. They looked different. Blind folds occupied the craters in their heads. They couldn’t see.

I begged for mercy.


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