11:39 PM,
Tuesday,
18th November 1952,
Location: Unknown
"..Solomon Grundy..born on a Monday..christened on Tuesday..married on Wednesday..ill on Thursday.."
[Dragging sound]
The man was singing to himself as he was dragging a body part on the floor.
"..worse on Friday..died on Saturday..buried on Sunday..that was the end..of Solomon Grundy.."
He finally threw the arm on top of the heap of other body parts that was piled up on one side of the dark and dingy room.
"You know..I actually knew who Solomon Grundy was..or is..anyway..that's not even his real name..or at least not the name that I gave him..people can be so imaginative when it comes to doodling their tales and tunes..[Chuckling].." said the man while staring at the bloody pile of mess in front of him.
"Nevertheless, he was one of the best that I ever came up with..the perfection..the immaculateness..flawless if I may say so myself..[Chuckling]...but that's the thing about perfection..it has a mind of its own..rules of their own.." The man then turn towards a nearby table.
"I wanted a perfection that will obey my every rule..fulfill my every desire..bend to my every will..it did just that..and more..until it realized that it no longer needs me..imagine that..just when I thought it would be impossible for them to do just that.." The look on his face changes.
"To think that it can come up with such a plan to outwit my safeguards..[Sighing]..funny thing actually..it was more "alive" than any other living person I ever met..imagine that..a dead one that was more alive than a living one.." He took a pause.
"..Oh well..bygones be bygones..not really a cause for concern at the moment...but enough about me..let's talk about you..Mr Salazar Hutchison..indeed..let's talk about you.."
The man then went towards the metallic table that he had been looking at since earlier. The only source of light was shining on the pale body that was laying on it.
"You...my friend..have definitely taken this to the next level..I mean who would have thought..[Laughing].." said the man while looking at a wooden torso on the ground near the table.
"[Laughing]..Oh, the irony..such sweet, sweet irony..too much love can definitely kill I suppose.." continued the man.
"I..I'm not sure what to make of your situation..it's funny..weird..sad..tragic..I mean you came to me looking for a cure for your solitude..and now..here you are.." The man bends closer towards the body.
"What happened back there, Mr Hutchison? Oh wait..wait..don't tell me...I've lived long enough to make a very, very deductive guess about this sort of predicament..[Chuckling]..hmm..let's see..I bet you didn't even read the manual right? Because if you did..none of these would have happened..or at least that.." The man then turned towards the wooden torso again.
"That thing...over there...should have been..COMPLETED!..[Sighing]..Why do I even bother writing instructions?..I don't even need to!..It's very simple!..Complete your creation..put the damn pouch in..and chant the spell..just how hard is it to remember that!" He looked furious.
"Almost every single time..in any century..be it an apprentice..a customer..or even a nobody that just wanted to learn the arts just for the sake of learning it..have never failed to disappoint me with their own undoing..their own vanity.." He looks at the unfinished wooden creation before picking it up with both hands.
