SNUFF=ART

Gwen carved into him with all the artistry of a Rembrandt or a Gosh. She felt the fluids splatter upon her naked breasts and slicken the lips of her sex, though she needed no encouragement, or help, from the blood. She was slickened in her own way as she made an opus of the poor bastard that lay before her. She could smell his blood in the air; hear it splash on the ground, the walls and the furniture of the rented room. God, she loved her work, and she did it well.


Snuff art is what she called it, but none of that pamby shit that you saw in the fake snuff films on the net. No, she had a very selective and well-paying clientele. They expected the real deal, and she was more than happy to oblige. “Oh, my god, that is so hot,” Trevor cried out to her from behind the digital camera.  He was sitting on the chair across the room from her letting the lens take it all in. He loved watching her as much as she loved being watched. “Cut off his cock,” Trevor called to her. “I wanna jack off with cock blood,” his cock was already out of his pants and showing all five inches of awesome. Well, what poked out from under his button down shirt and keg belly.  


She reached down and pulled up on the flaccid penis that she was rubbing her clit on for a little added stimulation. Poor guy thought he was getting a fuck and a C-note, she thought in a mockery of sympathy; pouting her lips and rubbing her knife on her breast. She wasn’t worried about AIDS, she already had the disease. She didn’t care. She looked into the face that had been at least relatively alive before she had started, now nothing but spent meat. Cut, savored, and ready for the bag and tag. Well, not ready quite yet, she thought as she gripped his phallus in her hand and lanced it at the root. She tossed it over to Trevor who squoze the blood onto his penis like it was a bottle of lube. He tossed the meat on the floor next to him and grabbed ahold of his own.

           

Gwen watched him jerking off to her. She felt it enhance her pleasure that much more, and imagined that it wasn’t just Trevor but all of her men. All those perverted purveyors and blood lust voyeurs that watched her work. They needed her and the art she produced as much as she did. She knew that they were just like her. That it was the only time they felt; the only time that they could truly be free.

The man’s blood (Fred or Frank she thought his name had been) covered the plastic sheet that she had placed under them. She had told him that she was a germophobe. He believed it, but then, Fred/Frank had been dumpster diving for diner two hours ago. She had ridden him hard, taking in his garbage and shit smell, his urine stench breath and she had let him come inside of her. That was when she brought out her butchers knife. That was when he started to scream. That was when she started to cut.


She blew Trevor a little kiss as he spit into the palm of his hand and got back to work; adding his spittle to the quickly drying blood. She slammed the blade of the knife into Fred/Franks Sternum and raised herself on one foot. The knife stuck in the bone as she spread her lips apart with her fingers. There was a thin line of bum come that mixed with her own sliding out of her. She rubbed the opening with her free hand, letting the string attach itself to her fingers. She brought her hand up to hang above her head. She opened her mouth and let the string of sperm break and fall into her waiting mouth. She smacked her lips and then went back to playing with herself while looking seductive for the camera. Then she slowly started to disembowel

Fred/Frank.

The whole process took about three hours when all was said and done. She had lost count at how many times she had come. Trevor, however, had come three times. He loved it when she started to pull out the organs. He got to switch out with her, and play in front of the camera for a time. He would take different organs that she had pulled out of the body and have sex with them. Kidney, lung, spleen, heart; he had no preference. He would pick up an organ, cut himself a hole and go to town. Sometimes, Male or female, he would have his way with them after the dissection. He’d bury his head in the exposed torso like a hyena getting inside an elephants ass. Chewing and slurping as he rode the cadaver until he came for all the viewing public to see.


“We got a ton of material for the movie this week,” Trevor said. A different guy each night, in a different city in a different state. Slicing through America is what they were going to call the vid collection. They were sitting around the body now, freshly showered and having a post coitus smoke. They had rolled Fred/Frank up in the plastic. They would leave him here. They had parked three blocks away from the hotel and Fred/Frank was the one who the owners saw. Gwen and Trevor had stayed out of sight. They climbed through the back window and told Fred/Frank that they were just cheaping out. He believed them, the lure of money and hot sex always seemed to make people believe what you wanted them to believe.

“You got the knife?” Gwen asked. She loved that knife. She had fucked a woman with it once. She’d used it as a double dong. She had used the handle on herself of course. The woman’s squeals still made her wet. 


“Yup,” he pointed at the bed where the knife and Camera sat waiting for their departure.

“So. We still doing Cali, or do we have enough,” Gwen asked. “I don’t think it would be right unless we do one on the west coast. Our clients will want an ending that’s memorable at the very least,” she smiled.

Trevor shrugged. “So where you wanna play? LA, San Francisco?  Sky’s pretty much the limit.”

There was a loud banging on the door. It sounded panicked.

“Fuck off,” Trevor yelled at the door. More bangs came from the door, this time louder and more urgent. “I said fuck off,” Trevor yelled. The knocker was silent for a moment and they had both thought that he or she had gotten the message, but then the knocking happened again, it was so loud that Gwen swore that she saw the actual door buckle a little with each pound. Three hits, the door continued to vibrate after the blows had finished. They looked at each other and then at the door.

“I think you better get it,” Gwen said. Trevor looked at her and sighed. He got up off the chair and started across the room, stopping at the bed long enough to pick up the knife before continuing.  He held the knife palmed and out of view as he opened the door. He was gonna pull whoever it was in, and slit their throats. Gwen watched as Trevor reached out with his free hand and brought the man through the partially opened door. He slammed the door closed and then the man against the door. The man was around six foot tall, bone thin and as white as if someone had dipped him in bleach. She saw that he was completely nude.

His eyes were wide and there was an amused look in them. He stared at Gwen and then at the body and then back at Gwen and suddenly she had a horrible feeling that they should never have opened the door. He smiled at her and a thick ooze of coagulated blood leaked from the grin through misshapen and shattered teeth.

Gwen looked at Trevor as he flipped the blade in his other hand so that he held it point out and sticking between two of the man’s ribs. “Who, the fuck, are you?” Trevor asked. The man did not reply, just smiled and dribbled blood. “Fuck this. One corpse more won’t matter,” He pushed the blade all of the way through the man’s skin and started to twist, but the man never moved. If he felt the weapon, ripping him apart inside, he did not show for the pain.

The man opened his grinning mouth and produced a shriek that should not have been possible. Trevor’s eyes grew wide as the man grasped the arm that held the blade and started to pull it back out. Trevor looked as if he was trying to keep the blade in the man, or whatever it was, and was slicing it inside him as much as he could. The creature ripped the blade out of itself and with another shriek; it buried it through Trevor’s neck. The blade lodged behind Trevor’s Jawbone, making it impossible for him to open his mouth to scream. He grabbed the handle of the knife and fell to the floor, looking like a bastardized version of Frankenstein with the knife sticking out each side like electrodes. He rolled around the carpet for a few moments and then stilled in death.

The man pulled himself away from the wall. There was no fear in his eyes as he looked at Gwen. Something poured out of the wound that Trevor had given him. It was sand. The creature saw her staring at the wound and cupped his hand under the hole. He let his hand fill and then held it in a fist before her, letting the sand sift out the bottom like half an hourglass.

He pointed at her and somehow she understood. Five more creatures came into the room and four made a circle around her. They all looked like the first in every detail. Their eyes all looked like cut gray marble as they stared at her in the light of the hotel room. She did not fight. She did not plead. She knew what was to happen. The fifth in the new group went to the bed and picked up the camera. He flipped open the screen and walked over to the chair, preparing himself for a night of taping. The police would find the camcorder and would know what crimes she and Trevor had done, and how they had come to their end but she knew that that would not matter now.

She had lived for twenty-five years and had taken many a life in that time. There was a little video running through the back of her mind as the creatures started upon her. She would not live through this. She felt at peace with the whole deal, for she knew that she had fucked life so many times that it was inevitable that death would come to fuck her in the end.