Creative Writing: Brian's Obsession With Skin

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His name was Brian. He seemed perfectly normal, maybe even a little boring, so nobody seemed to question him. You can see Brian dressed in a suit almost every day, in the same office, doing the same job. But Brian is stranger than he seems. Brian has an uncanny obsession with skin. Ever since he was a young boy he would stare at other’s skin with an eerie fascination. That fascination turned into a want. He didn’t just want to look at it, he wanted to collect it. His nights would be filled with red. So much red. But to Brian, it was worth it. Once he washed away all of the ugly red beautiful skin would emerge. The victim count grew. These casualties were found displayed in almost an artistic manner, with all of their skin carved off. His collection…show more content…
He then decided on creating a different type of art. Brian grabbed his large stack of skin, a bundle of thick cord, and a needle. It took him hour on end stitching together sections of skin and filling his creation with hay. Once he had there was a voodoo doll looking monstrosity, made from various shades of flesh with hollow black button eyes and one needle stuck in every separate patch of skin. Yet there was something missing. Brian looked over the doll and realized he still needed a patch of gorgeous olive toned skin from an Italian woman. He set the doll in his desk drawer and set out to find his new victim. After a few hours of searching for the flesh of his dreams he was ready to call it a night until he saw her. She was a very tall woman with dark hair and perfect features, but the only thing Brian was staring at was her flawless skin. Brian quickened his pace to match the woman, staying slightly behind her. She eventually turned into an alley way and Brian saw his chance to strike. He grabbed her from behind forcing a chloroform infested rag onto her mouth until she grew…show more content…
He searched for the last needle to stick into the section of flesh when he heard a rustling. Picking up a pin he turned around to see his creation come to life, staring at him with an unmoving gaze. Frozen in place Brian gawked back at the doll in horror and fascination. He was shocked a little too long so the doll began to run toward him, growing in size. Brian snapped out of his gaze and backed into the wall. The doll, now well over six feet, towered over Brian seemingly angry. Brian forcibly stabbed the pin, which seemed to also grow, into the middle of that last piece of olive flesh. The doll glanced at the weapon than back to Brian and smirked with his sewn mouth. The giant voodoo doll then smashed into Brian’s chest and yanked out his still beating heart. Brian stared with a vacant expression before crashing to the ground in a pool of his own blood. Walking back to his creator’s desk, the doll grabbed another pin and stabbed it through the heart, stopping its beat instantly. “Mommy, I’m scared…” a little girl called in the night. “Of what sweetie?” her mother questioned. “The Voodoo man in my closet.” The girl said quivering. “What does he look like?” the mother asked slightly worried. “He is really tall and has many different skin tones, he was holding a heart.” The girl cried. “Mommy he said he was going to take our hearts too.” “Why would he do that?” “So he can eat them.”
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