Chapter 2: Blood Lust

When he turned eighteen he enlisted in the army. At the time, it was in the heat of World War Two. His use of unpredictable torture methods and unique skill at interrogation made him one of the best. On his Twenty-First birthday, he met a young woman on the outskirts of Japan. She was just stumbling along a dirt road in her tattered dress. Blood coming from the side of her face as she looks blankly into his eyes. She wasn't scared or in pain. Many people he tortured were scared and frightened which was intoxicating to him. There screams of pain was like a rush of heroin going through his veins, but she was different. She could have cared less if someone had raped and killed her. She had no soul. He walked over to her while she was sitting in front of a burned down hut. He kneel to her while they both locked eyes. It was as if they saw the same thing. Nothing. He asked if she spoke English and if she had a name. She said, "Yes I speak English. My name is Baton". He picked her up and carried her in his arms. He took her back to a hut he was using as his barrack. He took her clothes off and put her in the tub. He looked at her body in astonishment, as he saw cuts in her soft flesh. Her meat was still tender from the knife. Her body looked like it was torn apart and put back together again. It was as if his victims knew nothing of torture like she did. Her head was bashed in. Her genitals were torn to shreds from the excessive amounts of rape. He got up and made some hot water for the tub. He came back and poured the hot water over her body. The tub filed with a mess of blood and dirt as he kept pouring more and more water. Her body shook with pain from the water seeping into her wounds. He bathed her slowly as to make sure he didn't make the wounds worse than what they were. It was unusual for him to take care of someone. He tortures people for a living and fun and now he was taking care of someone who's been tortured by someone like him. He certainly wasn't going to tell her what he did while bathing the deep wounds of skin and blood. There was a connection he felt with her though. She didn't fear death. She welcomed it like it was a gift. She didn't even mind to ask what he was doing when he picked her up on the street in front of that morgue of a hut. At least for now all he knew was he wanted to keep her alive. Even if it's just for a little while. He took her out of the tub and dried her body off. He put a towel on his futon. He then laid her down on the towel. Blood was still pouring slowly from her body as her wounds were very deep. He took out his torture kit because he had all his necessaries for his beautiful hobby he thought of as art. He took out a needle and thread. Grabbed the alcohol and warned her quietly near her ear, "this is going to hurt". He poured the alcohol on and cloth and patted her arms all the way to her legs slowly as she screamed in agony. She even begged him to kill her at one point with which he responded by slowly caressing her hair and singing the song his mother sung him "Over the Rainbow". It wasn't unusual for him to sing. He found his best pleasure when he sung to his victims as they were screaming with fright and pain. Talking and taunting them before they dead made Eric smile. Her body was sweating by now. Her fever was rising and she began to sleep. It made it much easier to work, but now he had to figure a way to bring the fever down. He decided to finish his work. He grabbed the needle and thread. He carefully positioned them together as the needle slowly inched into the needle point. He grabbed his pinchers and closed her skin where the wounds showed worse tightly together as he started sewing her velvet skin. As he finished his last stitch on her wounds, he wiped her body down with a wet towel. She shook from the fever starting to set in. He cleaned the blood away from the stitches, wiped her head with a rag then covered her with a blanket and let her sleep. He went to his own room closed it and went to sleep.