'Well, Look At You, Little Butterfly.’ She Croons Softly.
'Well, look at you, little butterfly.’ she croons softly.
I cannot reply. Cold lances through my back, bare against the stone wall, as surely as her pins lance through my flesh and bone, affixing me to the brick. Like an ornament. Like something to be seen, viewed, admired.
She has none of that sentiment.
She works over me for a while, preparing instruments, caressing my soft skin, holding me between her hands. There is nothing but self-interest behind it.
Then she starts to cut.
Under her hand, my skin parts. Muscle and fat are pulled aside. Organs are removed with the utmost care. Anything that could rot or decay is pulled out of me. I am preserved, a snapshot frozen in time.
Only when she pulls back, finally finished with her work, my skin emptied of meat and sewn back up so precisely that no seams can be seen, now that I am indeed an ornament, does her expression change.
‘You’ll look quite exquisite here on my wall,’ she says, at last with tenderness in her voice, ‘little butterfly of mine’.
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Her nails were the first thing that was taken away.
The woman in front of her stands, holding her head between her hands, whispering soothing words. Promising it won’t hurt very much at all.
Her knife reaches out again
Her skin falls away from her, revealing layers of fat which follow in turn. Her muscles part, and are quickly and precisely removed. Organs are cut out, excised one by one so as to avoid making a mess or disturbing the ongoing work. Veins and arteries are removed with impossible cleanliness.
She doesn’t want to stain anything, after all.
Bones and eyes remain, so are taken as well.
She can’t avoid making a bit of a mess with this bit.
Splinters of bone fall to the floor. Her skull cracks, splits, shatters. She is removed, then her brain is tossed aside.
Then, from a place where she sees and feels yet cannot act, she watches as her miss truly begins her work.
Steel is melted, poured into molds, beaten out on an anvil, and formed into a beautiful new skeleton for her. Her miss works with ceramics to make her cold new skin. She works with bronze and brass and precious metals to build her lovely joints.
She spends weeks crafting new eyes for her doll.
When she wakes up, after months of watching the affection of her miss pour into her new body, she moves quickly, sure of her purpose.
She embraces her miss.
KIsses her with porcelain lips.
And offers a response months in the making:
‘Thank you.’
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She/her, LARP doer, Warhammer and Gundam fan, that one reveal with Zane from Ninjago changed the trajectory of my life,Certified Scribblehub Eggfic Protagonist.
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