Geoff Foley

The Prize

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

479 words

3 minutes to read

In the depths of madness, deep down where the most of men cannot fathom to travel, down where the ghosts and demons torment and rip apart, tear and tease, the purest form of sanity dwells. There is no good without evil.

The sharp, shining steel eventually wins against the soft flesh. The blood waits a few seconds, then begins to trickle down the skin. Sweat forms, glistening in the evening sun. The knife moves up the belly, longing for the heart, as we all do. The heart. The pump of love, and hatred.

The screams, muffled by the gag, come out as low moans. The throat grows raw. The body can't operate long after being split open belly button to breast plate. This is art in an abstract form. It quiets the voices of reason. Those drive you insane the fastest. The true evil.

Sitting through another commercial for two-hundred-dollar weight loss pills; hair restoration pills; hard-on pills; pills to fix the pills... the voice asks... hammer? That'd be messy. And you'd get caught.

Just then, the sweet face of your beautiful child looks up at you. What are you thinking about, daddy? Nothing honey. How was school today?

The sun is going down. The knife comes out. Blood drips from the darkened blade. How many works of art must an artist bleed out to finally earn recognition? We deserve it. We've earned it.

The female body is itself a work of art. It's hard to know when the line has been crossed and the art has been defiled. A careful, thin red line. What good is the effort if the end result is wasted?

Soft, supple breasts. A smooth neckline. Beauty is in the art of removal. A sloppy incision, or other amateurish mistakes, are the ruin of a true masterpiece. The blade is licked clean. The taste of pure delight.

Isn't it everything in moderation, even moderation? But without moderation mistakes happen. Too eager and the bastard officers of the morality police come and take you away. But open eyes will open minds.

For some that's the motivation. To open the eyes of the close-minded masses. There's beauty in pain and suffering, you just have to be open to it. She even grew to enjoy the sweet sting as she was split open; knowing she would be part of a greater effort; a greater work than she herself.

Once the intestinal tract is removed, the wonder is open for all to see. The female sex organs are the most beautiful prize of all. Perhaps more so than the female body itself. That's why they’re hidden. They take a bit of work to get to, but the work is worth the reward; open and vulnerable; beautiful and vile. Yet the true cradle of civilization. Feel the moistness in your hands.

Another work of art is realized. Time to plan for the next. And don't forget to take the prize.