The first incision. Fake drags the knife across where his abs would be. Perry lets his arms tremble at his sides. He feels the cool metal dig just under his skin, though here’s something blocking it from going deeper. Fake tilted his head as he tried to dig deeper, but it wouldn’t budge much.
“Ah. You didn’t really have a formal education right? We’ll be learning together if that makes you feel better. Haha.”
“Haaa….h…” Perry couldn’t muster anything to yell or anything like that. Even breathing got him on edge for making the pain worse than it was.
Fake peered into the slit to lie eyes to the greater omentum. It pinched the membrane and tore a hole big enough to fit a finger. One went in and then the rest quickly tore it open. Perry looked down once to see Fake looking a little too invested for something as it. A shudder ran deep through his body as he felt the metal digits sink deeper in his body, wanting to writhe.
Its fingers slip to his sides, feeling up his large intestine but never trying to touch on his transverse colon. Perry tried to grit his teeth as Fake did so. Even the idea of his wound tearing up more made him squirm. There were a few moments where he’d catch himself making noises while Fake was in there.The worst that could happen is this fucker’s joints pinching on something by accident. All he could hear was the sound of his own breathing and the faint squelching of Fake’s exploring.
“Does this hurt? At all?” It stopped for just a moment to see the look on his meatpart’s face.
“A lot…… Hhaa..h….”
“ … “ Whether it was taken into consideration or not was dubious.
Fake Perry was sitting on Perry’s knees, hunched over and prying. It wanted to see more. A hand slid out and grabbed the blade again. Lying there, Perry caught it in the corner of his eye, Fake looming over him as it considered.
“I want to see more. I’ll be quick if it makes you feel better.”
The other hand came out to slide down Perry’s pants just below his hips. He held the skin and started to cut up then down. The first cut was from up the lower hypogastric, and the second one down from the top of his umbilical area. Fake opened the skin up to expose the cavity more. Perry’s body shivers in agony. Perry felt the grace of the air clawing at the underskin, he could almost feel a chill filling his abdomen now.
His discomfort grew when Fake dug his hands in again more rigorously, he could feel the tears coming now if it weren’t then. Fake could feel Perry’s legs trying to kick under his weight. He faintly laughs along after Perry’s groan.
It was like this for a while, Fake thoughtlessly tracing his innards. The feeling made Perry sick, whimpering when Fake accidentally pushed on a muscle too hard. He mostly stared at the ceiling, occasionally looking at his own face. He felt conflicted. Digging into himself, being touched by the hands of a lie. His back winces every time it tried to put its fingers under any part of his intestinal tract. Fake went over everything with a little more grace this time around, his fingers between the gaps outlining the small intestine, trying to see where it starts and ends.
Fake’s hands would soon get close to Perry’s pelvic crests, its right hand getting a good feel of the ascending colon, while its other hand tries to grab the ileum and lift it up to get a better look at how it’s connected to the large intestine. It was held back by another membrane, it couldn’t just pick it up. Tugging tugging tugging. Investigating further he found the mesentery clinging onto the two intestines. It was the reason why he couldn’t just wrap his hand around it.
“huh..?” Perry refused to look down past the other thing’s face, but he felt it. Something inside him too exposed to the air.
“They hang.” Fake pulled on the ascending colon to see it better. He grabs the blade and plunges in again.
Perry felt that sharp and dull pain gliding deep inside him, liberating pounds of meat and baggage in a few quick drags. He clenched his teeth as hard as he could, minutely twitching and kicking his feet. His hands were tense and at his sides. He could feel the blood pooling by his fingertips, some of the other blood that he was losing he could feel pooling at the posterior part of the cavity. Fake yanks one more whimper from Perry to get the last of the organ free from the mesentery.
“Hey. I want you to see this.”
The feeling of metal cradling the bottom of his innards made Perry’s stomach churn. He looked down as best as he could. All the color washed out from his face (if it didn’t already) as he saw the state of his body. Fake slowly brought up the mess that was his intestines, intact to Perry’s surprise. He couldn’t recognize his abdomen other than a red mess along with some yellow stuff. Probably fat. It felt like a weight was lifted off of his whole being. He couldn’t help but stare for a few seconds. To know his form from the inside, from something that wears his face. His head thumped back down on the floor. He could hardly think at this point.
Eventually the automaton's hands set down the mess and grace his cheeks, rubbing the viscera on them. It felt… warm, comforting almost. His eyes were blank and lazy while his jaw slowly relaxed. The untensing of his jaw was refreshing considering how dry his mouth was. Dry…?
“Hey. Haha. Hey.” Fake patted Perry’s cheek a few times. As gently as he needed to get the other guy’s brain working again for a moment. “Are you dying? Is it getting to you?”
“Hngggf…” Couldn’t even muster the energy to nod or do the proper noise for a ‘yes.’ But he understood.
“Ah. That means I have to get moving then.”
Perry heard the thumps of the stumps thud to make his way behind him. Fake put his hands under Perry’s shoulders and pulled his back against him, its hand grabbing and adjusting his head. He could feel his intestines slide against each other, ripping themselves apart as they were pulled down. His hands only shook a little. Cold air grates against the exposed cavity.
There was only a moment that passed by. Thinking. He could salvage the rest of the brain matter another time, right? It’ll all disappear from his hands if he doesn’t do it now. No time like the present. Fake tilts Perry’s head down and to the side. Fake suddenly started jamming a knife into his pterion. Keep pushing. Keep going. Hurry up. Fake hammered his wrist into it, chiseling his way into the skull until it split far enough.
Once it saw the dagger open the joint more,, he took the chance to put two of his index and middle fingers in. Only a bit of elbow grease to split the egg in half. The fluid gushed out while the brain was just caught by the cranium. It felt liberating. No time like the present. His arm releases his neck as he scoops a small chunk out. It was softer than he thought, but there was no time to waste. Fake shoved it into his mouth. Custardy…
Another grasp would let the rest of his brain start dissipating into yellow sparkles. Ah. It was worth a shot. There’s always another time. He stands up and looks at his hands. What an unnecessary mess. As long as there’s a sink nearby it shouldn’t pose an issue though. He walks out the door.