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Rated: XGC · Other · Death · #1577141
A man who believes himself an artist finally meets a man he can follow.
No one understands us. Our kind. Not to say we aren't humans, but we still have the instincts of the predators we once were.  Humans used to be the most feared animals on the planet. Nothing was safe from us, not even our own species. The most brutal and vicious of us were rewarded with being the leaders of our tribes or clans. Tales of their brutality were spread across the land; mothers would use their names to scare children when they misbehaved.

          Nowadays we are given derogatory names like murderers, rapists, and bandits. You can find us in your local jail, state penitentiary, or dark alley. Gone are the days of rape, murder, plundering. Gone are the days of raiding, and highway robberies. The civilized world has taken over. The pacifists are eradicating us. How ironic. We ruled the world for thousands of years, and now people who wouldn't raise a finger to save their families from us, are expunging the world of us. That's what they think at least. They were lucky that we were spread out, working alone. They made it easy for us though. They put us all together in one spot. All that's needed is someone to unite us. Someone who is brutal, vicious, and horrific. Someone so wicked that all the other villains of this world will see him and follow him. He will be dubbed the Antichrist by the Christians, a new axis to the America's evil, Adolf reborn to the Jews, and worshiped as Lucifer by the Satanists, though this man is far worse. He isn't as gentle as those others.
This is the tale of how I met the Uniter of Evil.

        I remember the first time we met like it was yesterday. I was in the alley off of Charles St. in Baltimore City, with a lovely blond I had spied earlier that night. She was originally with her twin daughters, but I ran them off because little girls scream too much. So now we were all alone. It was late that night, no one was around. It was quiet, except for the noise that never stops in Baltimore City...sirens.

        When I first brought her into the alley she was screaming, but that didn't last long. I hate the high pitched scream of a woman in distress, and I guess it's hard to scream when someone cuts out your tongue and makes you swallow it. With the screaming stopped, I could work on my masterpiece in quiet. I had started with her teeth. It's really hard to breathe with lots of blood in your mouth, so I always do my victims the courtesy of making a hole in their mouth to let the blood drain out of. Sometimes I make I will drill a hole into their cheek, or hammer a spike upwards through the soft spot behind the chin. This time I only bashed in her front teeth with a rock. The cracking of her teeth as the rock slammed into them sent a thrill of joy up my spine. She had such a cute smile with those missing teeth, but her lips got in the way of me seeing them. To fix that problem I simply cut off her lips. That's what I love about work like this, if you have something you don't like, it's easy to fix.
          She really was beautiful despite the way she was writhing on the ground. It almost sickened me that she didn't appreciate what I was doing for her. I thought maybe it was because I wasn't finished yet. Though the only thing I really didn't like was her eyes. They were deep shade of green. They clashed terribly with her long gorgeous locks of blond hair. They had to go. It was my only choice. I pulled out my exacto-blade and cut off her eye lids. She squealed so much I thought she was angry with what I was doing. A lot of people wouldn't even bother with that part, they feel it's a waste of time, but those people are amateurs. They don't care how their finished work looks. They just want to get their rocks off by killing someone, but a pro always remembers that the greatest satisfaction is looking upon a finished masterpiece and knowing that you worked hard to make it look like that. Why didn't she understand that?
              After the eyelids are gone, blood was pouring into her unprotected eyes. She must have been in a lot of pain. It's easy to get the eye balls themselves out as long as you have the right tools to do it. I didn't have the right tools that night. All I had was a rusty spoon that I found lying next to a dumpster. For the first eye, the spoon cut the skin surrounding the eye as I tried to slide it behind the ball, but after that, it was easy to slide the eyeball out of its socket. A strong yank disconnected the optic nerve from the occipital lobe of brain. Blood squirted out like water does out of a fountain. I felt temped to take a drink. The second eye was a tad bit harder. My hand was shaking from the excitement of finishing this, and I accidentally popped the eye, and the vitreous humor gushed out and ran down her cheek until it slipped into her mouth. There was no way for her to spit it out, so all she could do was swallow it. I really wanted to keep her eyes too. You see, before He showed up, I always collected the eyes, but he told me that later on there would be too many bodies to collect all the eyes from. He was right.
        After I had the eyes out, I took two golf balls and a blue sharpie from my pocket. Blondes always look better with blue eyes. I colored a blue circle on each golf ball, and then placed the golf balls into their appropriate sockets on the face of my finished masterpiece. She was truly perfect now. God himself could not make a better being. I was standing back admiring how the cops were going to love this one. How the head detective would be boggled by how they still haven't caught the sick fucker doing this. Even after 86 dead people, they still don't have a clue. All the possible scenarios that could happen tomorrow were running through my head, until they were rudely interrupted by an uncaring human being.
        "Ah a perfect Aryan you have there, gorgeous blond hair, beautiful blue eyes, and such fair skin. Hitler would be proud of you. Are you an artist sir?"
        I stared at writhing body on the ground in front of me, enjoying watching her flail around awhile long before I turned around to see who this admirer of art was. He was a fairly plain man. Standing about 5'10, not skinny, but not fat, nor was he a body builder, but he definitely had muscle tone to him. I couldn't see his face, but by the sound of his voice, there was no fear, or any emotion really. He sounded as if a mutilated human being, even if it was a masterpiece, was something he saw everyday. I felt compelled to reply.
        "Yes I am indeed an artist. I've been one for about five to six years now. I started when I was 16 and I'm 22 now. What's your name?" There was no need to speak like uneducated buffoon to this man. He was obviously above that.
        "I go by Arkeus now. I'm here with a purpose, and I find it no coincidence that I ran into you. Come with me. There was once a time when men like us were worshiped. The cycle has been running and it's almost finished. Our time is on the rise. It's up to us if we are going to rise up and take back what's ours. What's your name friend?" He offered his hand. I couldn't remember if I'm supposed to shake it. It had been such a long since I'd been a part of society. Ever since I graduated from high school, I've been apart from humanity. I figured I'd take the risk and shake his hand. But I didn't know what to call myself. So I named myself after something I loved.
        "Call me Art.  That sounds like a pretty swell idea, but how are you planning on getting enough people to realize it's our time. We're too spread out." I had forgotten to wipe the blood off my hand, and accidentally covered this strangers hand in blood. He raised his bloodied hand to his mouth and licked off the blood.
        "She tastes delicious. Anyways, America is too big to start; I was actually on my way to the harbor to wait for my ship that'll leave this morning for Britain. I want you to join me. I have people over there already, and they are waiting for me. I'll tell you what my plan is on the ship, but for now let's go have some fun."
I'll admit it now, I was skeptical of his plan, but I couldn't deny another country the opportunity to see my work.
        "I guess I'll join you on your boat ride this morning, but it can't be later than three in the morning. How much fun are we going to have? We have a lot of time to kill." A sinister smile grew on his face as I said that last line. It sent shivers down my spine. That is a smile I learned to fear.
        "Well then, let's go find a place to stay for the night." He turned around and walked out of the alley. All I could do was follow, leaving the mangled body of the girl to thrash about the alley in the utmost amount of pain until she bled to death.
       
        It was disturbingly quiet the whole way to the apartment building. It was four stories tall, extremely run down; I doubt there are more than five people staying there at the time. I couldn't believe a man like this would stay at a place like that. We walked straight to the stairs and walked to the top floor. The whole building smelt like death. That rotting smell of decay. It was such a dreary place. It was all gray. It needed color. Red, lots and lots of red. Arkeus I guess thought the same.
       
      The top floor didn't have a long hall way. Six rooms and only one had light coming from underneath the door. Arkeus walked straight up to it and put his ear against the door.  After a minute or two he motioned for me to come to him.
        "You don't actually stay here do you?" I asked beginning to wonder why we were actually here. His wicked grin let me know all I needed to know.
        "No I don't." And with that he kicked open the door.

          I thought I was a master at the art of murder. I am but a mere apprentice compared to what Arkeus is. What happened after he kicked in the door can not be described in human words. Demons in hell would be disturbed by what he did. I will recount it as best as I can, but my words can not do justice to his actions.
        The door flew open to reveal an extremely stunned middle-aged man. He had dark hair, hazel eyes, slim body, and of average height. The look of shock on his face quickly turned into horror when he saw the hunger on Arkeus' face. Arkeus had no weapon him. He didn't need a weapon.
        The man didn't have time to react. Arkeus pounced on him like lion on a gazelle. The man screamed in pain as I shuddered at the sound of his nose crushing under Arkeus' fist. I thought Arkeus was going to ruin a perfectly good face, but I was just blind to true art. He continued to lay the blows onto the man's face until he was completely sure he was too dazed and confused to get up. Arkeus got up and walked towards me, licked the blood off of his knuckles.
        "Wait a lil' bit, he's too out of it too feel what I want to happen next."
        "Alright, but if you want a knife, I've got one here you can use." I said as I took out my knife and held it out to him.
        "I don't like knives." Was all he said as he closed the door and proceeded to look around the apartment. He was obviously looking for something, I was afraid to ask what for.
        "Ah found them!" he said as he closed a cabinet in the kitchen. I thought he was going to show me an elaborate set of torture items or something. What he tossed to me was a complete shock to me. A deck of cards.
        "You play poker at all?" I couldn't believe this man. He wanted to play poker at a soon to be murder scene.
        "I....Yea sure, only five card draw though." I'm with a mad man.
        "Sounds like a plan. Move that table next to him, and pull up a chair." I did as I was ordered. I am not disobeying someone like this. I would hate to see him angry.
        He brought over another deck of cards, a roll of duct tape, a small knife.
        "I thought you didn't like knives?" I couldn't resist from asking. I'll admit, I was curious.
        "Well I came up with a better plan than the one I came in here with, just keep watching, you might enjoy this. Do you like card houses?" I really don't like where this is going.
        "I've never had the patience to build one, I'm too clumsy. Why?" He picked up the roll of tape and began to duct the tape the man to the floor; he seemed to be picking out where he put the tape quite precisely.
        "We are going to build one later tonight."

        After a few rounds of five card, noises started to come from the object next to the table. Poor man should have stayed unconscious.
        "Looks like our friend is starting to stir." Arkeus lit up like a child's face on Christmas morning. He quickly grabbed the other deck of cards and the knife; completely forgetting about the current hand.
        "About time, I've been dying to do this." He turned to look at the man and assumed a very serious voice, one a doctor would use when telling you, that you now have cancer. "You are going to be part of my experiment. I'm going to make a house of cards on you, for the base cards I'm going to make to make slits in your skin and place the cards into them to hold the cards in place. Each time you collapse my house, I'm going to cause you pain. Do you understand?"  The look of horror on the man's face was beyond anything I've ever seen before in my life. I thought he was going to go unconscious again until he nodded his head. The duct tape over his mouth didn't allow him to say anything.
       
                Arkeus made four slits at the center of the man's stomach in a square formation. He then made five slits outside of those in a pentagonal shape. Then an octagonal shape, and continued to make small slits in a very precise manner that only a doctor could have. After the first dozen slits the man stopped trying to scream, and after the next few dozen he stopped squirming. Blood was oozing out of every slit; I was worried that he would die of blood loss before the house was made. That would be a shame.
       
                After ten or so minutes, Arkeus took the cards and placed four into the square on his stomach. They wouldn't stand upright at first, so Arkeus had to jam them in there. The squishing of the flesh and bloods sent my stomach into my throat. I felt sick. I could only imagine the pain the man must have been in.         
        Arkeus' beamed with joy as he placed a card on top of the square of four. "Well there's the beginning of a shack, but I want a mansion." If it was possible, the man's eyes became a little more hopeless.
        He jammed five more cards into the next slips, sliding them back in forth in the slits to make sure they fit snugly. The man squealed like a pig, and shuddered. The cards collapsed. His eyes sunk further back into his head.
        "Oh no my friend, the cards collapsed. Well you know the punishment. Pain time!" Arkeus ran to the kitchen and came back with a container of lighter fluid. He looked so happy. He started coating the man's hair with the sweet smelling liquid. I cringed at what I knew was coming next. The man's eyes looked at me for compassion. I was too afraid to offer any.
        Arkeus retrieved a lighter from his pocket. "Flame on fucker" as he lit the poor man's hair on fire. The man squirmed on the ground, screaming pain. The duct tape around his mouth began to melt from the heat of the flames. The smell of burnt flesh and hair filled my nostrils. I could hear the sizzling of his skin. It reminded me bacon in a frying pan. Fumes of smoke rose and began to fill the room. I really wanted to puke now. Arkeus was laughing with glee. What had I gotten myself into?
        I must have zoned out as I watched the man writhe in pain, because when I came to, Arkeus was throwing a bucket of water onto the man's head. "We can't have your brain melting on us now can we?" The man's scalp looked like a marshmallow left in the fire too long. I couldn't stand the smell of the burnt flesh. I wanted to leave, but...then I saw it. The beauty of it. The clash of the colors. The red background, the black on the top, the streaks of black on his face and his hazel eyes, the streaks of red on his pale skin. The black and blue bruises on his face and body. He's beautiful.
        "Alright now, I'm sorry I had to do that, but you did collapse my house, if you do it again, I'm going to do something that will be a little more permanent." He had that smile again that said he had something sinister planned.
        "Now don't move this time." He said as began putting cards back into him. The man was in obvious pain, but I give him credit for not flinching. Arkeus was 12 cards into his house when the man had to sneeze. Sometimes the body is counter-productive to survival. He sneezed, and for a second, I thought the cards were going to be fine, but as he settled back down, one fell, and the rest came tumbling after.
        "Damn those bodily functions eh? Hey you know what? I'm not going to do anything to you." You could see the man visibly relax. He let out a sigh of relief. Arkeus noticed too.
        "I'm going to let Art have some fun with you. Art just don't kill him." Finally, my turn.
        I needed to top Arkeus. It was my duty as a professional artist to do better than him. But how should I do it. How does one top an expert? Creativity would be needed. Something no one has ever seen before. Mutilation? Dismemberment? Rape? All have been done before, but no one has ever combined all three.
        "Arkeus, I need a knife, or saw. Make sure it's big." I thought I saw a tear trickle down the man's face as I said this. I lowered my voice so only he could hear me. "My poor man, don't you realize that I am going to make you into a work of art? You'd be put into a museum if we could find a way to keep you from rotting"
        Arkeus returned holding a hand-saw. It was rusty and looked slightly dull. "This was all I could find."
        "If it can cut its fine." I said as he handed me the saw.
As I placed the cold steel against the man's skin, his whole body shivered. This was going to need to be quick, so that we could tie off the wound so he didn't bleed to death. The saw was roughly 2 inches below his wrist where the arm is at its thinnest. The saw pricked little droplets of blood as it made contact with the skin. The flesh looked so tender I thought that I'd be able to saw through his arm like it giant marshmallow. I had forgotten about the bone.
        I pushed down and pulled the blade towards myself. Blood squirted out in all directions. The few drops that landed on my lips tasted delicious. It was so warm. I just wanted to put my mouth to the cut and drink deep, but I had a mission. So I pushed the blade away from this time. The flesh did indeed cut like butter. The man squealed in pain and tried to roll away, but he had lost too much blood and was too tired. When I pulled towards myself again, the saw hit something hard. I put all my weight onto the saw, pushed down hard, and pulled with all my might. Sawing through a bone sounds exactly like a sawing down a tree. I was quite surprised by that. I was hoping it would have its own unique sound. Of course there might have been more to the sound that I just couldn't here over the man screaming. I continued to saw as fast as I could, wading my saw through the pints of blood being thrown all around the room. Back and forth, back and forth. My arm was stuck in this motion. My shoulder was really starting to hurt, as were my ears. We should have cut out his tongue. It was too late though, I had to finish quick.
        I continued to saw for what seemed an eternity, but really only lasted ten or so minutes. When I finished sawing through the bone and the last shreds of skin were left, I twisted the hand and pulled, ripping the last shreds of flesh left that connected my new hand to his arm.
        "Arkeus get rubber bands and a shirt. We need to cut off this bleeding. If he passes out, or dies, I am going to be pissed." The demand in my voice scared even me. Why was I giving orders all of a sudden? Arkeus just smiled and left the room.
        I picked up the man's hand and held it in front of his face. "Alright, this is my first try at human sculpture, so I'm not sure how it's going to turn out, but I just want to warn you that it will be a little uncomfortable."
        Arkeus returned with a white shirt and a bag of rubber bands. He quickly went to work, wrapping the shirt around the limb, and then wrapping as many rubber bands as possible around it to stop the bleeding. I think he might have been a paramedic at one point.
        When Arkeus was finished, making sure it was snug and tight; he gave me a sign that let me know I could continue. I walked over to where our man lay; babbling about how we could take whatever we wanted, just leave him alone. Pitiful.
        "Arkeus, help me bend him over the couch." I said as I bent down to take one arm. It was a short walk to the couch, and he wasn't that heavy, especially with all the blood being drained out of him.
        After having him being bent over the couch, I used the hand saw to cut off his pants. This was going to be painful. The man's ass was sticking up into the air, just waiting in anticipation for the pain about to happen.
        "Arkeus toss me his hand." Arkeus picked the hand up off the ground and tossed to me. In one fluid motion, I grabbed it out of the air, bent the fingers into a fist, and forced it into the man's ass hole. I laughed as I heard the hole rip, and blood to flow out of the hole and down his legs.  I backed up so I could fully appreciate the amazing wonder before me. Bent over the couch, one hand clutching to the couch for fear of falling on his face, the hand buried into his anal rectum. I won this round.
        "Your turn Arkeus." I had a wide grin on my face as I readied to hand him the saw.
        "Hey Art, I'm actually tired of this game. I think I'm gonna go to bed. Wake me up in a few hours for the boat." He just turned and walked into the bed room directly behind him.
        "You aren't going to...kill him?" I was confused and shocked.
        He stopped and poked his head back out the door. "He never did anything wrong enough to me to deserve losing his life. I'll see you in the morning. You can kill him if you want."
        What a sore loser. If he can't beat me, how does he expect to beat the governments of so many countries? To unite the murderers of this world, you need to have their respect. This man is not worthy anyone's respect. He's not even worthy of the life he possesses.
The squealing of the flailing body behind me brought me out of my thought process. I walked over to him and quietly whispered into his ear, probably the last words he will ever hear. "Looks like the cops are going to have three bodies from me tomorrow morning."

I bent down, picked up rusty hand-saw, slowly turned around, opened the door, and walked into the bedroom.
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