A Short Story Tale.

A Psychopaths Morgue Holds More Than Dead Bodies.

A Psychopaths' Morgue holds more than dead bodies." ~ ZQ

          "You are exquisite on my new autopsy table." Infamous smiles in excitement. His thoughts swim and revolve around the one person who cares enough to not scream. 

     Syrënna lingers casually on the morgue dissection tables and strains her neck to look at the one guy who has the decency to not try anything at this point. Holding back a smile that chants to that thought, she replies in her thick foreign accent.

      "What does ex-quis-ite, mean?" She struggles to pronounce the foreign word in her thick Russian and French accent. Syrënna curses at herself for looking so helpless.

        Infamous holds a smug grin over his scarred lips, lined with segment ring piercings along his top and lower lips.  Shining black along his lips and slightly in his cheeks, his mouth an assortment of metal to make a metal scarecrow mouth.

      A sain person would see an ungly boy trying to be rebellious with his face, but Syrënna sees a story being told. Breaking the trance Syrënna was in from evaluation of his metallic smirk, Infamous chuckles into a servere look.

      "Exquisite; extremely beautiful and,  typically, delicate," he slowly emerges from the Dark Shadows of the room, ", such as a lovely rose, so delicate and deadly... "

        Infamous trails off as he rembers the memories of being drug into his demise as a young boy. Remembers... Seeing.

           Trees pass with an assortment of plants and flowers in the massive blur of colour. Getting close to it's destination for the dark haired boy. The large creatures features mimic a horse with bat ears and wings, claws where the front hooves should be, instead only one set of hooves hang from the back.  The face of  death that is hidden with in the horses fully black eyes and dripping from the carnovios fangs hanging from the mouth. The creature as Infamous would soon research, was a NightClaw.

      The NightClaw weaved into branches and sticks jagged from falling from their homes.  Fear trickeld in every part of the boy as he flailed in the clutch of the tared front claws. The mass span of large-mutant bats that would soar from cave ceiling to catch their flying dinners. Gliding through the trees with ease the creature snickered at the boys flails, amused.

      Crying out for help, for someone to run for his safety. Nobody answered. Sticks, twigs and logs all launched themselves at his frail body, ripping his  English suit. His tie was long gone from the start of the flight once the NightClaw attempted go choke him from behind. The young NightClaw snickers again before axcellling higher above a thicket of thorns and red beads of beauty.

            Hot tears stream down the boys soft cheeks as he began to cry for something, anything, to help him. Looking around frantically he took his last chance to glance at the beauty of  the scenery. The sobs whimper into small sniffles as the sunsets warm glow hushes his fear. The trees aliens with the sunsets pinkish/orange color, the colour of  peaches fresh from his garden at his catstle.

         The thought of home flutters into his mind like a black butterfly, dark and beautiful. Silent tears fall to the dark thicket below his bare feet. The only thing the boy could think of was..."Death. So this is death?!"

                    His little British accent cracking in fear. Suddenly his stomach flips and he is plummating to what he thought was his death. Sobbing the boy flailed his little arms and curled his armed around his eyes and nose.

        Immediately thorns stabbed every inch of his body as he fell through the layers of roses and vines.  The KnightClaw flies farther away. Infamous's youth looks up at the creature as sobs out,