It was a careful, presice dismemberment. She started at the left shoulder. She used a scalple, never mind it wouldn’t cut the bone, the bone wasn’t what interested her. Her tiny blade bit deep and he screamed. It was not a manly scream. She watched the blood fall to the pristine white floor. For a moment she started at it like a Rorsach inkblot. She smiled, and continued her work. She cut all around the shoulder, blade biting deep. it scratched the bone. He kept screaming, and then he stopped, it was probably from bloodloss. But she kept cutting, every joint, all around, to the bone. When she was done, she slit his thraot. There wasn’t much blood left in him by then. She stood back. He hung limply, like a marionette with all its strings cut. He was still dripping crimson

drip…

…drip…

…. ….drip…

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