Better than Ever by @AlexChaseWriter @CoffinHop 2013


Hello Travelers,

For this one, I won’t tell you when I wrote it. Those who know my writing well enough should have an advantage, but let’s see if you can guess in the comment section. I’ll confirm soon enough who’s right… but until then, enjoy this most recent tale.

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Vincent checked Penelope’s restraints, ensuring she wouldn’t thrash about and hurt herself. She was nude, but didn’t seem to mind. A fierceness radiated from her though it was a stark contrast to her withered, pale body.

“This process is going to hurt, do you understand that?”

She shot him a glare. “I know. I’m willing to take that risk. The benefits…”

“I know, they are tempting, but if you have even the slightest doubt, the entire process could fail.”

“Tempting?” She laughed, “don’t sell yourself short… you… if what you said is true, then you could turn a sick little wretch like me into a god.”

“You wouldn’t be a god, Penelope,” he chided, “and if successful you must take care not to let your superior state inflate your ego.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not the type to go power-crazy. I was a CEO in a Fortune 500 company before my final diagnosis, remember?”

“Yes, I’ve seen your file. That’s why I chose you.”

“Because I was a CEO? Isn’t that elitist?” She chuckled, “like I care either way.”

“No, because you have such a conglomerate of conditions that to heal them all through this process would be undeniable proof of its success. Now, if you don’t mind, we must get started.”

“Go ahead, Professor.”

Vincent stepped out of the test chamber and made his way to the sealed monitoring room. It had a wide, shatter-proof window through which he could observe the entire process. He began flipping a few switches. After his computer began displaying Penelope’s vitals, he pressed a nearby button.

The ceiling opened up, metal pieces separating and revealing a device the size of a small car. It was adorned with a series of lasers mean to manipulate her body on a genetic level.

The smaller lasers emitted a variety of colors that began etching their way across her skin. Her heart began to race as she began to twitch and contort herself. Other monitors showed Penelope in closer detail. Her mouth was set in a hard line; sweat broke out upon her brow.

Even if she hadn’t been moving, it would have been easy to see the changes her body was going through. Muscle began to bulge and return to a healthy size. Her skin blushed. Her mouth was no longer a white line but plump and pink. Vincent thumbed through her file to a picture from 2006, before she began her chemotherapy. Penelope was beginning to look like that young, healthy self again.

Seeing the machine was reaching the peak of the alterations, he reached over and flicked two adjacent switches.

Three scythe-like portions extended down from the center of the machine. A thin tube emerged from the center of these blades as they began to spin. They began whirling, making a circle above Penelope. Thin blue arcs of electricity began dancing between the blades and the main portion of the machine.

A brilliant white ray shot from the center tube and down into Penelope’s abdomen.

Penelope screamed, thrashing against her bonds. “Let me out! What are you doing to me?” Her agony reverberated off the steel walls, prompting Vincent to look with more care at the monitors.

Penelope’s muscles were seething and shaking beneath her skin. They were twice the size they’d been a few moments ago. Her skin was beginning to tear apart, blood spurting from the open wounds. The more delicate microphones could register her bones breaking beneath the strain of her growth.

Vincent began cursing himself for not building an emergency deactivation protocol. There was nothing he could do. He watched as bone spurs grew through her body, jutting out from her torso, her limbs, even her neck. Blood poured down her arms and legs. Penelope struggled to free herself, managing to slip her hands from her bonds, but she had grown at such a rate that she couldn’t

She was steadily growing taller, but Vincent knew this could not last. Her chest began breaking open, her ribs parting to expose her racing heart. Vincent blanched as her heart burst, showering the machine in blood. She reached up towards the racing machine, shaking as the remainder of her blood gushed to the ground.

The spinning blades dug into her tormented flesh, tearing it to ribbons. It pulled her entire body off of the table, shredding it and flinging the pieces across the room. Her skull was thrown into the observation window with such force that a series of thin cracks twisted away from the impact.

Vincent gaped, eyes wide as the shrill whine of the heart rate monitor rubbed in the atrocity he’d committed. His hands experienced violent tremors as he reached for some nearby switches. He deactivated his monitors and sent the machine back into its storage area in the ceiling.

With the whine silenced, Vincent noticed the slithering. It was a thin, fleshy sound that made his skin crawl. Looking about the test chamber, he saw every individual scrap of scattered flesh forcing their way up a wall and into an air vent. He turned and raced for the door. Bleeding scraps of muscle had clamped the door shut.

Vincent fell back against his machines as Penelope reassembled in front of him. Torn muscle clung to severed sinews. Her organs were missing; it was easy to see this, as Penelope’s skin had been left behind. He had a growing realization that she didn’t need her skin anymore.

The macabre woman glided towards Vincent, reaching out her hand. It extended from her body, stretching across the room to caress his face. As she did this, he felt her force the hand down his throat and begin to tear him apart from the inside. He gagged as he felt her acidic flesh sliding across his tongue.

Vincent stared into her bulging eyes during his last moment. A lipless smile danced across Penelope’s face. “What did you say about not becoming a God?”

***

Walk with me from October 24-31 as I post some of my work in honor of Coffin Hop 2013. Some of this is quite old, some of it not–guess which is which, Traveler. Perhaps a right answer will earn a stroke of fortune for you…

For this tour, I’ll be giving away one signed anthology in which a story of mine has been featured. Which anthology is up to the winner. Keep in mind, I reserve the right to award additional gifts as per Coffin Hop rules. Who knows–if I get a lot of hits, you might see a lot of rewards in the future. Be sure to click the badge at the side of my page and visit the other Hoppers!

Pink by @sotet_angyal


Hello, Travelers,

From the early rays of the rising sun I bring you Nina D’arcangela’s “Pink”, a delightfully demented and whimsically twisted take on a bed time story. You may want to read it while the sun is still up, though. Some stories weren’t meant to let you sleep afterwards…

Pink.