I smiled in pleasure as blood flooded the room. The flashy old yellow Carpet staining red. The blue walls now purple.
Her flesh tore so easily. Her limbs separated with ease. Every drip of blood rained down my sleeves.
The divine terror. My fingers laced themselves at the seem of the wound. Freshly shredded flesh. Thin layers of meat stacked and lying loosely against the bone.
The veins revealed themselves. Pulsing away, shooting tiny streams of blood into the air.
Her scream. Muffled by the weight of her Loose sundered skin.
I traced my fingers down her body. She flinched under my touch. I ran my sharpest blade along her naked, untouched skin.
Her pale, soft skin. I wanted nothing more than to preserve it. The color. So lively, so vibrant. Tiny freckles splattered along her cheeks and shoulders.
She was perfect.
With one last attempt to scream, She shut herself up. I began chopping off the slices of flesh.
She cried in agony. eventually, unable to scream at all.
I had collected all the meat I needed. But something felt off.
She coughed. Blood dripped from her shaved lips.
I opened her legs. I dragged my blade along her thighs, deeper into her legs. The sharp point stabbing her shaking clit.
Finally, I began carving the perfect sculpture!
She screamed as much as she could. But I pursued. When I was done, etching the perfect masterpiece of all, I dropped my blade and stepped back to admire.
My canvas was hanging in the center of the room, just in front of my bed. Blood poured from every scrape.
I retrieved towels and cleaned it up. Drying the blood and cleaning the floor.
I took in my art. Once again.
I turned out the lights, and crawled into bed. Allowing the darkness to take over.
"I sure hope the shadow approves of my piece!"