Monday, October 31, 2011

When Beauty Meets Morbid

When Beauty Meets Morbid
Debra Elliott

Joe hovered over Michelle, doting on her like a lost puppy. He'd fantasized about this very moment
when he'd have her all to himself. Now she was there and his alone. In high school Joe had always
worshiped Michelle Collins, but she was a cheerleader and he was a science geek. The two didn't socialize,not in high school anyway. Not anywhere really, except here in the morgue.

She lay on the metal table, her perfect and pristine form unaware the science geek she made fun of
all those years ago was about to tear her beautiful body apart. The corner of his pencil thin lips curled intoa smirk. Finally, after twenty years he had her right where he wanted her. Joe gathered the necessaryinstruments to perform his duty, after all he was the town's only mortician.

He washed her in the sterile solution before proceeding. The morgue reeked of death, but Joe
savored the smell. It was "her' smell. Next came the daunting task of organ removal. His mind was
clouded. Joe needed fresh air. He needed a cigarette.

Joe grabbed a fresh, starched white sheet and placed it over his high school crushes body before
exiting the morgue. Once outside he lit up the strong menthol cigarette and took a few puffs. He snubbed the rest on the brick wall and went back inside to finish Michelle Collins.
She was still lying on the table. Of course she would be, he thought. She's dead as a doornail. He
shook his head. "Michelle, Michelle, Michelle... why did it have to come to this?" He half expected her to answer.

If only she had agreed to dinner, she wouldn't be lying on the slab of cold steel. And he wouldn't
have had to kill her. Why did it have to come to that? Beads of perspiration formed on Joe's brow. He
probed her insides until he had removed all of her vital organs. He threw them in the metal bucket at the foot of the table, except for her heart. Joe had a special place for it prepared.

He held up her cold, dead heart. His face grew dark and a morbid laugh escaped his mouth. "I told
you one day Michelle you would be mine."

Joe took her heart and placed it in a formaldehyde filled glass jar, sewed her up and went home with
her pickled heart in a jar. It was like carrying moonbeams around....

© 2011, Debra Ann Elliott

7 comments:

The Desert Rocks said...

Wow, I can't believe you wrote that! Pickled in a jar! OMG, you're funny! Come see a link at my blog!

Haley Whitehall said...

Hi Debra Ann,

Thank you for entering my contest. Great story--powerful writing with a hit of humor. I really enjoyed it. By the way, I love the look of your blog.

Michael Lyons said...

Eww. Just... eww.

And I mean that in the best way. Well done, Debra. A properly squicky story for this time of year.

Sonia G Medeiros said...

Very, very creepy. Great! I just know I'm a total sicko because I laughed and laughed about the heart. Sigh. I guess it's okay because I'm a writer. We're supposed to be weird. :D

Karen S. said...

Oh can I see the imagery in your words....this mans quest is surely brought from his deep devotion! Nicely written!

Marbles in My Pocket said...

Very well told story, but gross! You set a very vivid scene. "Pencil thin lips" was all I needed to put a face on your villian. Nicely done, Debra!

Here's my entry if you'd like to take a look: http://charleslmashburn.wordpress.com/2011/10/28/a-soft-knocking-3/

Mel said...

Ugh! I suspected from moment one that he had done it even though he was the mortician! Creepy!

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