✓ 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐝𝐞 𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐞

6 | nauseous

He kneels down next to the body, then gestures me over. Her face was destroyed and none of her features were even recognizable anymore. It was only her body left.

"Tell me, what's the most attractive thing on her body?"

I couldn't answer the question. My eyes were so fixed on her face that I couldn't even think.

"Hello?"

I look up at him; his eyebrows were raised and he was waiting for an answer.

"I'm not sure."

"You're not sure, okay," He says sarcastically, "Well, she had nice hands."

He picks up her limp hand, showing it to me before dropping it back down to the floor, "I need to teach you how to evaluate these bodies because my buyers only look for the good things you know? Skinny legs, small waists, small ankles, and boney fingers. Their tits have to either be big or have small nipples. Big, fat nipples aren't attractive, especially when you're dead. They also look for small noses and long eyelashes. A face with no acne and no blemishes. Something smooth to put makeup on."

As I hear him list off things on a woman's body, I can't help but change my perspective on things. What if I was 30 pounds heavier than I was? Would I be here right now next to him or would I be dead just for the fun of it?

"What do they do with them."

"Well, they put them together by themselves. They chose the parts they want, and I ship it to them. It's not my problem anymore."

My mind was racing with thoughts, but the one answer I was craving for the most had to be answered. I swallow any shame and doubt, then ask it.

"Have you ever sold the lower body? Pelvises?"

"Oh of course!" He laughs, "Those are the most expensive."

"Would you ever do that to me?"

He stares, then tilts his head like he was studying every inch of my body, "Yeah probably. Although, you're the only pussy I have in the house so I can't get rid of you yet. Assholes are so fucking tight it's sometimes hard to even get my dick in there."

Disgusting. I felt nauseous by his vulgar words and I felt like I needed to throw up.

"But that's beside the point. We should start with the arms first."

I started to feel violently ill as he spread the arm outward, then rolled up his sleeves. He didn't hesitate as he pushed through the skin. I closed my eyes, unable to watch anymore. I could hear his grunts, his breathing, and the cracking of joints and bones as he sawed through the arm.

"Look!"

I take a breath before I open my eyes to see him waving the arm at me like it was some toy. The blood from the incision was dripping onto his clothes and the floor, and there was a smear of blood across his cheek.

I hated it, but I just felt the urge to lean over and lick it off his skin.

Even though it was draining blood consistently and the body was now one arm less, the nausea had gone away and it kinda felt like I was in a movie.

The body was an actor and the arm was CGI. This wasn't real at all and it was all just a set of the next big blockbuster.

But that wasn't the case, and the body wasn't an actor. It was a woman who had parents, who went to elementary school and high school, a woman who probably had people wondering where she was.

She was nothing like me, and that's why she is dead, and not me.

"I'm still contemplating keeping her. I mean, she could be useful at our dinners! She wouldn't really be able to engage in the conversation or pass the salt, but a little company would be nice."

I stay silent.

"Or, I suppose she could just be sent off. I can easily get another one," He then gasps, "Oh my god! What if we collected them?!"

"Like what... toys?"

"Yes! My little doll family. And I can feed you guys and clothe you and wash you. I can buy you guys toys and even make a little playroom!"

I sigh, putting my face in my hands, collecting myself before I look at him again. He was still holding the arm up.

"Can I go upstairs now?"

"What? But we aren't done yet! We still have the other arm, the legs, and the head to do!"

"I want to go rest. I am tired."

He groans, "Fine."

I nod then stand up, walking to the stairs. I put one foot on the step then turn back toward him. He was staring, and there was a sort of sadness in his eyes. The type of look a kid gives you when they believe you don't totally accept him.

He wanted me to accept him. Accept him and whatever his sick mind was filled with.

-

I headed into the bathroom first, eager to wash this blood off my body. Sao was nowhere to be seen, but he couldn't have gone far anyways.

I turn on the shower, then when it becomes warm, step in. Before I get under the water, I carefully unwrap the cloth on my arm.

The cut was bigger than I expected. It was deep and about 6 inches in length down my entire forearm. What the fuck caused me to do this? I've always been happy, I've never felt the need to hurt myself but why now have I cut this far into my skin?

When the water finally hit my skin, the entire bottom of the bathtub turned a transparent red. I didn't know how much it would sting until I put my arm under the water.

For the entirety of the shower, I used only one hand on a majority of tasks, but when I had to use two, I just had to suck it up and take the pain.

It was scary to think that there was a girl downstairs who had been mauled by a person she allowed to get close to her. It's even scarier to think that we were the only ones who knew that we were stuck in this house. The world outside continued on without us, not giving any mind to the people that were lost in these walls.