The Dentist

Strapping down his unwilling patient - the stained leather constricting the blood flow to other less interesting organs - The Dentist takes a sip of red wine. With passion and lust, he envisions the symphony of crimson blood spatter that would begin shortly. Slipping on his coat, the thick scent tantalizes his olfactory, which now reminds him of yesterdays prize. He caresses the jaw, carefully appreciating the bone structure. Oblivious to the frantic eyes tracking his every move, he uses homemade instruments constructed of discarded metals from the local rust yard and forces the mouth open. He looks up - a brief pause. Turning slightly, he squints as he prepares Strauss on the wooden turntable. A half smile breaks the hardened old blood streaking his face. The violins score delicately in the background. The molars on this one would be quite fascinating, but the slow extraction even more satisfying. The unprotected light bulb, dangling from the ceiling, flickers and ticks for a moment as it casts swaying shadows on the stone walls. It will need replaced, soon, but will serve its purpose this evening. Craftily tracing his scalpel over the outline of her mouth, he slices away fatty flesh. As it slides away, her true frame is revealed and more accessible now. The Dentist listens to the oboe, as he lifts salts to her nose, bringing her back around.