A new case was brought to me, or rather, I was transported to it. The smell of fresh decaying meat hung thickly to the air. A fan or any sort of wind circulation would have done some wonders for the room but nothing was allowed to be disturbed more then it already had been upon my arrival.

There in the corner sat a man who’s name was spoken but for the life of me I can not remember what it was. I my tired eyes in hopes to free myself of the remainders of sleep from last night. All three hours worth.

“Clear out!” Jack orders. The occupants of the room gather their remaining things. I can feel their judgmental stares as each one walks past but that should not matter to me. I’m at work and need to focus my on attention on what Jack wants me to do.

Taking several steps backward, I watch the victim sit quietly in place, only to close my eyes. All my worrying thoughts of how normal I wanted to be disappearing as I take a new viewpoint perspective. The victim now no longer just a corpse but a priceless gem necessary for my work.

Maggots disappear from the body. Blood pools back into it. Nylon string is removed. All the aftermath of a crime gone.

I open my eyes with new intent. A man stands before me but he is not frightened. He’s actually angry at me and we are arguing. The object of our feud means nothing as my goal becomes a little more transparent.

My fist soon silences the room as the other crumples to the floor. His face means little to me but his organs I need intact. Quickly I fall to the floor and pull out some nylon string, securing it around the man’s throat and I pull tight. It cuts into his soft flesh and silences him after a moment of struggling, I have my new gem. 

I pull out a rag from my back pocket and clean my work up but only enough to see if my gem is still in quality position for his final resting place. He is so I have little care if my blood is found. I hold no records in the state or any around it. I know I will be hard to find.

Dragging the man across the room, I sit him up on his perch. Nylon string being my main crafting tool for my work along with a long metal rod. I tie the string around the sharpened steel and crouch down  close. The metal taking some effort to force through but I know what I am doing as I avoid the rib cage and spine. Blood is seeping but I only clean up what is in my way as I string the man to his chair, increasing both their value and giving him something he could never achieve on his own. A meaning. This is my design.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yeah, I had a dream last night where I was Will and on this insane case of a man they dubbed “The Weaver”. Well, it kept getting weirder till one point I got captured and The Weaver had a new victim waiting to be placed as a piece in his gallery but The Weaver heard about me and my problems from an unlisted number, damn that red head journalist… And he was thinking of taking on an extra set of hands, so to speak.

At first I was like, no way, but then… then I kind of wanted to because I empathized too much with him as he started to string up his other ‘guest’ and well… Initiation was a bizarre tongue piercing where he pierced and knotted my tongue- and then I woke up and I tongue was hurting like a bitch. Yeah…