Been tied up with a few things; a little training, a little HR, a little event planning. Still have some time yet before I have to do that certain something that Ritter wanted me to do, but I intend to be fully prepared and as accustomed to the Azoth within me as I can be.
Hasn’t been ALL work though. Making sure to take plenty of time just to do what I enjoy. So often we forget to do that; to enjoy the little things. Like the apple I am snacking on as I write this. Ever since the Azoth was made part of me, I have had strong cravings for apples and coffee. Doesn’t matter that much, I suppose. I just thought it was somewhat amusing.
But, back to the point, I took Fell and Hart to a place I know. It was home to a settlement over two hundred years ago. The stone remnants of the houses and cellars still stand, along with a couple of tombstones. The land around it is hilly and beautiful, leading to jagged cliffs, stone beaches and rock formations. The cliff in one area is worn away into a horseshoe shaped groove. I looked over the edge, watching the waves crash against the rocks below, then lifted my eyes to the horizon. So lovely.
Upon Hart’s suggestion, we also took the time to head out for a game of pool… and myself and Fell were promptly bested. Apparently, our dear Hart has some hidden talents. He went on to make a few wagers with a couple of people and win. I admit, I was worried, given Hart’s issues with addiction in the past, but he handled himself well and knew when to walk away.
I also set aside some time to draw a silly little sketch based on Calavera’s recent antics.
This is what happens when I draw while old cartoons are playing in the background
Oh, and you’re probably wondering whatever happened to Carmine. Let me assure you, my bloodthirsty dears that I have not forgotten him. I have been trying to take things slow both to ensure that he suffers for as long as possible, and because I wanted to be able to cut a nice portion of meat from him this weekend. It will be Thanksgiving after all. Can’t let it go by without a good meal. That being said, he looked so terribly unbalanced with no hands and both feet that I just had to do something to make them match. I started by slicing the flesh from the bottoms of his feet. Then I poured some salt into my hand, which I jammed into his wounds. I followed that with a heated blade to seal it off.
After giving him some time to savour that sensation, I returned to pry off his toenails, which started his feet bleeding afresh, so I salted and burned his wounds again.
The next time I returned to him, I decided to play with the Azoth once more. It was lovely seeing the terror in his remaining eye as I felt the tendrils burning through my skin. His fear got the better of him and he started begging again. I was disappointed in this regression as he had not done so during the last couple of times I worked on him. I thus informed him that since he could not keep up with that lesson, we would have to try something simpler. Perhaps a nursery rhyme would not prove too advanced for him. I knelt by his feet, took hold of one and wrapped the tendrils around his big toe.
I spoke softly and slowly to him as I began:
“This little piggy went to market…”
The Azoth began to twist his toe until it broke; then kept going until it came off. I waited for his screams to die down before I continued
“This little piggy stayed home…”
The tendrils bent this one slowly back towards the top of his foot until it was pressed flat against it. Digging a tendril into the base of the toe, I severed it from him completely
“This little piggy had roast beef…”
This toe, I filled with the tendrils, as I had done with his hands. It ruptured and flew apart, leaving nothing but scraps of shredded flesh.
“This little piggy had none…”
I wrapped the tendrils around this one and began squeezing. The toe was slowly crushed to a pulpy mess which was easily pulled from him. His screams were now reduced to a low, anguished moan, which meant I didn’t have to wait to continue as I had done before.
“This little piggy cried wee wee wee all the way home”
The tendrils dug into this one and slowly pulled it free of his foot.
I finished with more salt and burnings, then left him once again.
I eventually repeated the action with his other foot, except I made him say the rhyme as I did it. He refused at first, so I carefully explained what I had intended to do to his feet next. After I was finished with his toes, I would remove his feet entirely. This would, of course, be painful and whether he did as I said or not, it was still going to happen. However, if he chose not to cooperate, I would be sure to remove the remaining skin from his feet before I took them from him.
He sobbed and finally choked out the words “This…this little piggy went to market…”
After I finished with his toes, I removed his feet without skinning them, as promised. I dug my tendrils into the joints until they were separated, then cauterized the stumps. He cried, but did not beg.
“Maybe there is hope for you yet, my dear.” I laughed
Then I told him a story, patted him on the head and wished him goodnight. He was trembling before, but his shaking grew worse at this. He gave out a delirious laugh and said goodnight in return.