Inner Workings

This was the fourth one this week and James could easily do four more. Truth was, there could never be too many.

He pushed the door open and a wicked grin crossed his lips while the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes etched deeper into place. James was an addict and this was his drug. The arousal that built inside of him as he entered his ‘studio’ could never be matched by any other drug or the touch of a woman. His skin flushed with heat; his body knew what joy his actions would soon provide.

He entered the room to find the unconscious woman on the table in the center of the space, her arms and ankles bound to the cold steel table. The familiar scent caused butterflies to take flight in his belly as if it was his first time. His hand trembled as he stood over the assortment of scalpels and retractors spread out in front of him. Though adrenaline forced his unsteady nerves, the smooth, rigid instrument in his hand always steadied him. He was born for this.

Holding the scalpel in one hand, he drew in a cleansing breath, holding it momentarily before exhaling. With his empty hand, he pulled back on the tender flesh of the woman’s belly before placing the blade to the taut skin. James drew the blade in a meticulous manner, splitting the pale skin to reveal the glistening thin layer of yellow fat just beneath the surface.

His racing pulse slowed to a rhythmic thumping in his ears as it always did when he was focused. He watched the rise and fall of her chest, in awe of the fact that she was alive though did not feel or react to the incision. As he worked his way deeper into the site, he became fully aroused when his hands pressed deeper inside her abdomen. The warmth, the wetness, all of it inebriating. Modern medicine was a spectacular thing; so easy to render someone unconscious, too easy.

He continued to work his way through her layers until a curious smile etched its way onto his face. James worked quickly and soon held the treasure of his search in the palms of his hands. He removed the contents and time seemed to stop. His pulse hammered as the silence grew deafening. The others in the room moved to his side, each one gazing at the prize he held at arm’s length in front of them.

James passed the bloody mess to their groping hands and they scurried around the room in controlled frenzy, each taking turns poking and prodding, pulling and stretching. He looked into the face of the unconscious woman and tears pooled in his eyes. She’d sacrificed so much and would continue to do so for many years to come.

Nearly thirty minutes later, James’ work was complete and he rested his hand on the forehead of the woman who was now semi-conscious, her glassy-eyed gaze a clear indication that she was not fully aware.

He simply smiled and took one last look at the group huddled in the corner before walking to the door. Just as he reached for the handle, it swung open and a woman stood in front of him.

“Oh, excuse me,” she said.

James smiled and stepped aside, gesturing the woman inside. “That’s quite alright.”

The woman returned a coy glance and stepped into the room. “You too, Dr. Green.”

James removed his surgical cap and left the room, leaving the doting parents to tend to their filthy, screaming newborn. James never did care for children, though the insides of a pregnant woman were especially intoxicating to him.

James learned early on that he had a craving for exploring the inner workings of living things. His obsession started with small things; lizards, frogs and such. Soon though, they didn’t satisfy his morbid curiosity and neighborhood cats began to disappear.

After much counseling and failing to assure his parents and therapists that he wasn’t a vicious person, he learned to hide his obsession. After watching a documentary on surgeons as a teen, he decided to create the perfect persona that would allow him to indulge his macabre fascination. He’d become a surgeon. Not only would he be allowed to feed his odd hobby, but society would pay him handsomely for it.

Dr. James Green, renowned surgeon to the stars, was indeed the perfect wolf in sheep’s clothing.

~ Craig McGray

© Copyright 2015 Craig McGray. All Rights Reserved.

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About Craig McGray

I write horror and dark fiction because the whispering voices in my head tell me to. My mild mannered persona is the perfect disguise for the strange things hiding inside of me. Many of my horrific tales play themselves out in my mind's eye during the times of self-torture while training for triathlons. Proud member of Pen of the Damned www.penofthedamned.com When I'm not writing or torturing myself through exercise, I spend time with my wife and beautiful daughters. They are the key to my existence.

21 responses to “Inner Workings”

  1. Craig McGray says :

    Reblogged this on From Bright Minds Come Dark Things and commented:
    I take over the Damned horde this week on Pen of the Damned. Come get some

    If one wishes to excel at their career, then one must possess passion, Damnlings. But what if that passion goes overboard? INNER WORKINGS http://wp.me/p2iKoL-MG by Craig McGray, this week’s newest ‪#‎horror‬ ‪#‎fiction‬ only from Pen of the Damned.

    Like

  2. jonolsonauthor says :

    Fantastic story, Craig! I really enjoyed the nice little twist to the ending!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. christopherliccardi says :

    That was good, Craig! I like to see someone who takes passion to an art form 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Joseph Pinto says :

    I admire someone who gives their all to their profession, Craig. Perhaps I can draw some inspiration from it as well 😉 This indeed was a wicked good tale! I really enjoyed reading it 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Thomas Brown says :

    Eesh, this one had me grimacing, Craig! Well described and the neat little twist is great.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Magenta Nero says :

    I love this Craig, it is really well written, brilliant and chilling.

    Like

  7. blazemcrob says :

    I particularly enjoyed the part about cutting through to find the layer of yellow fat beneath the thin layer of skin of her belly. Having seen many dead soldiers in ‘Nam, I remember all too well what lies beneath the fragile layer of skin holding everything together. Grand description of a brutal operation, Craig.

    Blaze

    Like

  8. zkullis says :

    Craig, Craig, Craig… What are we going to do with you? One of my favorite parts of this tale was the juxtaposition of the inebriating and arousing nature of the cutting, feeling, and exploration of the living gore with the “bloody mess” that was passed along like unwanted byproduct. So well done!

    Like

  9. dylanjmorgan says :

    Great story, Craig. Really enjoyed this one. Well worth the wait.

    Like

  10. Nina D'Arcangela says :

    Forgive my tardiness, Craig – some surgeon was wading through my guts… lol 😉 Great story! This is how ‘Rosemary’s Baby’ should have been done! 😀

    Like

  11. Tyr Kieran says :

    I just realized that I never left a comment here, sorry, bud!!! You know I love the story from my comments when sharing it. It’s well written and perfectly paced. Nothing like medical malice that helps people! Very clever!

    Like

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