Monthly Archives: August 2009

Angel’s Harp: String, the First

Excerpt from Angel’s Harp

Jacob’s favorite part of his unofficial surgical internship was slicing through the upper layers of the epidermis and past the fatty tissue of the patient’s arm, down between the twin swells of the bicep and deltoid muscles in the valley closest to the bone. It just looked right. Purely anatomical. Like he was meant to expose this exquisite inner part of the body and show how lovely the bones beneath truly were.

So it kind of developed into an artform: after meticulously removing the flesh-sheath of the rest of the arm and moving on to the torso, how best would he expose the meshed musculature of the back–should he leave the back intact, or do away with it altogether? He could just leave the trapezius and remove all of the latissimus… ‘Yes…yes, that would be most aesthetic,’ he one day resolved after a gazing minute.

He never kept the specimens alive for this–not after that first and last attempt. Besides, the blood loss alone would have been enough to quell any lingering consciousness the lethal amounts of propofol he’d administered hadn’t already extinguished. And the beautiful boys and girls who gave themselves over to his artistry should not be made to suffer. No matter how much he would have liked to see one of his creations actually animated, the disembowelment invariably resulted in permanent unresponsiveness.


A Lot of Guys Dig Zombie-Chicks…

So my second novel will be borne out of the first–a zombie girlfriend who can’t seem to keep her head straight…literally.

Creepy Dreams

I’m sure we all have dreams like mine from time to time–mine, in fact, are hardly ever worth commenting on, aside from when they resemble acid trips from years ago…

But what I’m thinking of right now doesn’t resemble an acid trip–it’s moreso a horror-show that you wouldn’t want to come within a mile of if you were on acid.

You see, I drempt one night, not long ago, that I was a homocidal maniac, a serial killer, not too far from the norm of my dreams, except this one was much more detailed, and much more sinister.

I was in the process of compiling a wonderful collection of bodies–or skeletons thereof–and tying them into neat bundles which I stored in my trunk. For some reason unbeknownst to my waking mind, I also saw to perfectly preserving their uteruses in glass anatomy jars, storing them in a shed. It was the uteruses which ultimately gave me away, apparently. And naturally, with all of this killing, there was the problem of the extra flesh to be disposed of, but my dreaming self thought it best to simply heap it all in a remote part of the forest near Stockton and let nature take its course.

I was up to my 8th body when someone found the jars of uteruses, and I was finally found out. I had wondered what my grand scheme was, and it was a shame it had to end so soon.

But I intend on continuing the story–not in the waking world of course–in my upcoming book, entitled “Angel’s Harp”. Hope the world enjoys my little tryst with the macabre!