So, this is only chapter one for now. It continues from here and I'll update when I can. This first chapter is about a woman who awakens finding herself on a dissection table.

Enjoy.

Chapter 1

The wooden table was at an incline and the straps that held her in place tugged at her skin as gravity tried to pull her down. She squirmed against it and against the haze suffocating her thoughts. Where was she? Last thing she recalled she was in her bedroom doodling and listening to music.

Her senses settled, and she looked around. It was a dimly-lit room with antiquated medical instruments on aged wooden tables. The walls were a grey brick, the floor was stone smoothed by so many feet. Most importantly though, was the small crowd of people surrounding her…watching her. They were all in lab coats; men, women, and…monsters? Her mind couldn’t seem to formulate an image for what her eyes were seeing but her attention was taken by a man who stood very close to her left side.

He was lean, with pale skin and black hair that contrasted his unearthly blue eyes. They glowed like pools of electricity the color of blue topaz. He was talking, but at first, she couldn’t quite understand him. His voice was deep, but gentle, almost soothing.

She shook her head and a pressure in her ears released. His voice came in clearer.

“When preforming this particular work, you must keep in mind that the environment has a distinct effect on the psyche of the person. You know where you are and what you are doing, but they do not. As such, you can create through this illusion the effect of reality, pulling on the imagination of the human. I will demonstrate.” His left hand rose, and she saw a scalpel being held between deft fingers.

She jumped, her heart racing and squirmed against the restraints, leather squeaking.

Finally, she found her voice, “No! Where am I? No! What are you doing? AAAAAAAHHHHHH!”

The blade made one long incision starting from her sternum down to her navel. She tried to twist, and his right hand planted firmly on her solar plexus to keep her steady. His blade worked around the navel then resumed its path down to her pubic mound. He went over the incision a few times, each time working deeper into her muscle wall.

Her lungs inhaled deeply with shock, then hyperventilated in panic. Her chest rose and fell in rapid rhythm to her increasing heartbeat. As the scalpel tore through her she began to scream. The knife plucked through cords of meat within her that she could not see, popping through the different textures of flesh that she knew nothing about but could feel with heightened awareness. With each snag she screamed, crying against the assault, her body pushing against his hands.

She writhed against the straps, and her feet were loosened. She kicked him back into the crowd and she freed her hands. Shaking, she managed to loosen the last strap around her shoulders and drop to the floor. Her body trembled from the pain and she tried to stand but her opened abdomen was too weak, and she fell onto the ground on all fours. The jostling of her body worked loose her organs which emerged slowly from the long incision in her body.

Ignoring all of that she tried to scurry away on her hands and knees. Behind her she heard laughing and hot tears streamed down her face. The wobble of her pathetic scurry worked loose her intestines which began to hang awkwardly beneath her, sending waves of agony through her body. The heat of her body was escaping through the opening, chilling the rest of her leaving her skin wet and clammy. Her muscles trembled, elbows shuddering violently. Her bowels finally spilled out, spreading out underneath her into a soft mound. She sobbed, and her body collapsed, falling onto the wet heap. She could feel it press against the sweaty skin of her stomach. Some wet tangles pressed themselves back into her while others worked into the crevices between her legs. A rope of wet entrails worked between her labia and rubbed against her clit. Her hip thrust, and she moaned. The pleasure of it eased her suffering, but it was cut short by a hand that clasped around the back of her neck and raised her into the air.

Her eyes met his and he offered a pleasant smile. “Good try my dear. You are commendable. However, my lesson isn’t over yet.”

He carried her back to the table and strapped her back in. As he tightened the strap across her shoulders he leaned in to her ear and whispered, “You can’t die until I say you can.” His breath was warm, and he nuzzled her ear softly before withdrawing.

“As you can see,” he said addressing the crowd, “She is completely unaware of her true situation. Her pain is real, her suffering, all real. Helpless to the illusion.”

Illusion? She had heard him, but she did not understand. What illusion? No illusion could cause this amount of pain. She began to cry again, the convulsion of it causing her intestines to bounce off of her body and tap against the end of her clit. They were drying, giving them a tacky quality which made them stick and pull mildly on her button as they swung away. Tap. Tap. Tap.

He looked at her and sighed, “Unfortunately while she gave us quite the show, she has made a mess of herself. I’m afraid I’ll have to give you all a separate demonstration of how the thin protein layers keep the digestive system in place. You can however see that the intestines are not merely one long tube independent of the rest of the internal organs. If one were to make a slit in the abdomen and attempt to pull them out as one long strand, one would find the organ is attached to other structures such as the spleen.”

She kept whimpering. It was humiliating being on display in such a fashion. How did she even end up here? She couldn’t recall anything after her time in her bedroom drawing. “Please,” she wheezed out, “Please let me go.”

He ignored her. “To remove the digestive system, you must separate the stomach from the esophagus like so,” his hands reached in and the scalpel sliced into her beneath her ribs. She felt the tear and again she inhaled a long and ragged breath of panic which let out as a low and mournful cry.

“It is close to the diaphragm, so be sure you don’t cut into it. Then you need to separate the large intestine from the colon.” His hands went lower, and she felt another rip from the blade. Her body spasmed again, and she screamed, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. The muscles in her lower region flexing and fluttering against the agony, working to find what had been removed.

“There may be a few more protein membranes to cut through, but most of it is free. You can find your way from here and…” a few more cuts later and her digestive system was a wad dangling from his fist. He handed the mess to the nearest spectator and they all took turns passing it about and examining it.

“That will be all for tonight. Please return so I can properly show you where the reproductive system sits within the lower abdomen. If you would be so kind as to leave the digestive system on the counter there, I would greatly appreciate it.”

One by one they left and in time the room was silent, leaving her alone with him. She sobbed, staring wide eyed down into the collapsed cavity of her abdomen. Blood had poured out of the long gash and trickled down her vulva, catching in the folds before working down her thighs and calves, collecting on the leather straps and rerouting the little red creeks on their path to the floor. It dripped steadily off her toes, pooling slowly on the floor beneath.

She was having a hard time breathing. She hadn’t realized how much she relied on her stomach muscles to breath. Furthermore, each attempt sent a wave of pain as the incision was tugged with each attempted breath.

The man turned to her and gently ran a hand down her cheek, tracing the line of her jaw. “Thank you for that my dear. Now you’ll have to go back though. It was fun while it lasted.”

She closed her eyes, feeling the blade at her throat. It stabbed deep into the left side of her neck and tore through opening her throat wide. He yanked her head back and she felt him crush against her, wrapping his mouth tightly against her throat. His right hand undid the straps that held her, and she fell against him, his arm wrapping around her back crushing her against his body.

Her warm blood poured out over her chest, running down her breasts and onto his white coat. Her eyes opened a moment and she saw that her vision was fading. The pain lessoned and for a moment all she could feel was her cold body pressed against his. He was warm. His mouth was warm. His tongue exploring the gash in her throat, tasting her life as it poured into his mouth, pushing against the edges and inserting into the space, exploring the exposed meat. This felt good. Her senses twisted, and she felt dizzy. Her eyes rolled back into her head and all went still.

A jolt and her vision returned in a burst of light and color. She was alive and sitting on her bed, hunched over a sketchbook. Her head shot up and she almost fell backwards over the edge of the bed, but her hand went out and gripped her comforter to keep her from falling back. She straightened and looked around, her lungs panting with the residual fear and adrenaline. Her head swung about, certain she would see him, but he wasn’t there. It was just her room, just as remembered.

She looked down at her sketchbook. It was an unfinished drawing of herself, lying splayed with a knife in her heart. Was it all just a dream? A dream brought on by her secret desires? It felt so real that her throat felt raspy and her stomach was tight. Her mind went over it again and again. It had felt so very real that she was unable to trust what she was seeing now.

Moments passed, and she calmed down, but her mind was still going over the events of what must have been a dream. She took in a deep breath and wrapped her arms around her waist. She wished she could have done that…wrap her arms around him during that last moment. A sob broke through. It had felt so real. He had felt so real.

Her hand reached up to touch her face where he had, retracing the path his fingers took down her cheek. “Who were you?” she whispered. She must be going mad. “Who were you?” Her sobbing broke into a full melt down. She threw herself onto the bed and buried her face in the pillow. If only it had all been real.

“Come back!”