It started just like every other dream I had been having.

He's just laying face down on the floor, so I begin to help him.

I picked him up and placed him on my table, then quickly started to lock in the restraints.

*Click, click, click, click, click.* 

Around his wrists, ankles, and torso.

He woke up with the last click, this was the beginning of my horrid dream.

But it doesn't seem as so, all I do is laugh as he scans the room dazed and confused, trying to find out what the hell I just put him in. He sees me, and asks me to let him free, but all I do is put my index finger in front of his mouth, while grabbing a scalpel next to me. Suddenly, I violently begin ripping through the flesh in her arm, stab after stab, slice after slice, cut after cut, until his arm is nothing but merely a puddle of blood. He screams in pain, it sends a chill down my spine. But it doesn't seem to affect me.

I merely stare dead at him, emotionless, blankly, just watching him squirm under the restraints. It affects me, somehow, but I merely shrug it off like everything else. I look through and notice all my other "devices". A lonely apple peeler, a dull cleaver, a syringe, or perhaps a saw? It's a special occasion, it's not everyday the man responsible for all of your hatred and sorrow sits restrained on a morgue table. So this deserves a special tool. But the real question is, what to do. One arm is done for, but what to do and what to use...

He's bleeding out, so I must try and finish this quickly but painfully. Then he passes out, this won't do. Nothing a little syringe of adrenaline can't fix. I stab it into his chest, and he wakes up almost immediately, pale, bloodshot eyes, it makes me both scared of myself yet happy to see him suffer like this. But he's not screaming, merely crying, time to change this.

I grab an old cheese grater, and begin rubbing his leg down from thigh to ankle. Repeatedly, over, and over, and over, now he screams, now he's in true pain, with both right limbs are out of use. I felt the need to look behind me, and there it was. A clothes iron, perfect, already heated. I press it down on his stomach, the smell of rotting flesh excites me, so I pick it up, and press it down with maximum force over and over. He tries to scream, but the sound just doesn't come out, perfect.

I decided to get creative, and began looking around the room. There, in the corner, a brick. Not good enough. But there, three rusty nails conveniently placed on the other side of the room. He's only breathing hard by the time I get to her. I begin placing the nails in a linear line down the wrist. 

*Smash, smash, smash!*

This isn't as bad as I thought it would be, he's just crying again. So I rip the nails out with my fingers, gripping the top of the nail from her skin, ripping it out, then smashing them back into his forearm. I grabbed the potato peeler, not once did I use this before, I began to start peeling off small strands of skin, from his not so damaged arm. Just letting them fall to the floor. Then I had the funniest of thoughts.

I stared at the burn and oozing skin of his chest, then took the peeler accordingly, and started taking larger chunks from there. Again, he fell unconscious due to the pain, and again, another shot of adrenaline. When he wakes up, he urinates himself, the smell of it angering me for some reason. I began unwillingly shoving the pieces of burnt skin into his mouth, disturbing even me. I don't know why I couldn't, but I couldn't wake up. This was the longest of dreams I've ever had. It was the most sadistic and climatic nightmare I ever had. After listening to him gag and choke I ripped the pieces out. No words were said, just a half dead man knowing his end was imminent.

I sat down and just looked at what I had done. I was done, there was no more to be done here, except, the saw. Yes, an old, regular saw used for cutting wood. You know, one of those original ones? I picked it up and licked the blade. After walking around in two circles around him, I jumped onto his leg, and began sawing off his foot little my little, starting with the big toe, to the rest of the toes, half his foot, his ankle, then inch by inch, cutting his leg apart until the saw broke mid- thigh.

Blood was all around. Amazingly though, he hadn't bled out. It was a mystery to me. But then I saw the great amounts of pain he had undertook. Without word, nor reason, I merely strangled him, with my bare hands. It didn't take that long though, unfortunately, but then again, getting most of his body cut, burnt, and skinned, it was amazing that he was still living until this point.

I got up, and stared at his now lifeless body. Put my fingers to his neck. Yeah, lifeless. I unrestrained him and pushed his body off my table. Then left the room, only to re-enter with a small cage. I opened it and left again except closed and locked the door, not to go in for a while. Then I heard them leave the cage, the little squeaks of rats. They smelt the blood, which I had hoped for. I heard them scurry towards the corpse, they were hungrier than I had first believed. I heard them rip small pieces off him, the tearing of flesh possibly of fingers, or ears. Didn't matter. I was just about to ascend the flight of stairs until I heard it, that sound.

Screaming, HIS SCREAMING. HAHAHA HE HAD WOKEN UP FROM THE DEAD TO FEEL GETTING EATEN ALIVE, AND THERE WAS NO WAY TO DEFEND HIMSELF, or his pulse was too weak for me to notice, EITHER WAY HE WAS BEING EATEN ALIVE, BY RATS...... RATS. TAKING LITTLE BY LITTLE NIBBLING THEN GOING AGAIN, THERE WAS ONLY 5 OR 6, THIS WOULD TAKE A WHILE. I merely stood outside of the door, listening. It wasn't as fun as cutting him apart myself, but it still got the job done. So that's all that mattered. He was finally dead, painfully dead.

I felt it strange, I opened the door and there was a long hallway, with a red light at the end, I looked behind me, and there was no cellar like before, instead it was merely a brick wall. I walked down, only to hear his screams again, but he was finally dead, what was this?

The noise came from all directions as I walked down the hallway, this was scaring me. Then I arrived at the end of the hallway, nothing but a static red light. I hesitantly put my hand through, it went numb. I looked back, only to see the brick wall now right behind me again, the hallway gone. I stepped through, only to wake up. Oh God why did I have to wake up? WHY?

I woke up and there she was, a beauty of indescribable proportions, the girl who opened my heart, the girl I loved, mutilated in front of me, almost similar to what I did to that other man... Oh... Oh... No, this, no, this can't, I couldn't have, no...NO....NO....NO NO NO NONONONONONO


She just laid there lifeless. I felt a tear go down my cheek. But when I crawled next to her corpse, I realized something, not only was it her, but there was decay on the skin that was still there. NO. How long had she been dead? Rotting down here. I looked up, my tools, rusted and corroded due to time.

How long have I been asleep? HOW DID I DO THIS? WHY WOULD I DO THIS? Nothing makes sense anymore. I looked for a blade, nothing sharp or dangerous enough to end my suffering. I sat there, staring, crying, cursing, in sorrow and anger I had brought to myself. Then I wake up again, just to find myself collapsed on the floor of my bedroom. Terrified I sit there on the floor, looking at the pool of blood I was just resting in that wasn't even mine. I was trying to remember what reality was real. 

I went into the cellar, but nothing, there was nothing. No blood, no corpse, EVEN MY TABLE WAS MISSING.

But I just killed, someone, in this room. I WAS LAYING IN A POOL OF BLO...

I looked, only to see my hands were clean. It's not fair, my memory, remembering these realities, when in fact they were merely fantasies. My mind is so confused. I have no idea what's going on anymore.I went back upstairs, to go to the bathroom and wash my face. I walked through my rooms, then backed up. Something had caught my attention. 

I walked back to see these figures in my living room. I hesitated, but I turned on my light.

There, both. Sorrow, and love, spread across my walls. Blood, splattered all across my walls. My realities, they weren't separate, but combined. I had killed him, and I had killed her. Only small patches of skin stood out from anything else. Their organs, or whatever remnants there were, piled on my floor.

I merely collapsed to my knees, and stared for what was weeks to me. I watched, and did nothing more. Until I finally fell. Not to wake up again.