The vacant space beside the kitchen when finally opened, contained a series of the most macabre and grotesque oddities ever unearthed. Thick dust coated piles of tanned and meticulously folded human skins, stacked one upon another atop a Persian rug lining the floor. Black, white, asian, and what may have been mediterranean in origin. A pile of five had been neatly arranged around the space.
The skins themselves had been meticulously removed from the occupant. Faces, hair, and genitalia intact. Although now dried to a board like state, they had been exceptionally well preserved through the use of chemical, and tanned to perfection.
Large jars sat beside each individual stack of skins. The jars contained a light amber fluid, filling each vessel to the lid. Lids which had been wired on, ensuring a seal preventing any air entry. Floating within the fluid were eyes. Grotesquely submerged within the liquid of horrors; heaped upon one another, giving the appearance of hellish pickled onions.
The next two hidden rooms were a mirror of the first; pickled eye’s, a pile of human skins, meticulously taken from the bodies of men and women alike. Gender nor racial prejudice not evident in the horrid findings.
The final room of horrors was located between Mel and Phil’s bedroom, and that of Oliver’s. The findings within the space, starkly contrasting with the three prior. This vacant space held answers of the most horrific nature. Answers not in any way, shape, or form directly relating to the revulsions found anywhere else in the house, yet possibly the most revolting room ever found in the history of man in the last 100 years.
*
The final unexplored void when opened, went beyond the grotesque, bounding upon the highly significant historic on further examination.
The void; the false walled room; the space through the secret door, opened to a room of utter splendor, bordering the ostentatious; opulent beyond words. A Persian rug, whilst beneath a heavy layer of dust, had even the ignorant in awe of its beauty. Gilded skirting boards and cornices; a moulded ceiling, sapphire in colour, sporting painted golden angels, and blood red demons alike. A pre-Victorian chair and table took up one side of the narrow room; a raised wall length carved and polished wooden shelf adorned the other. Lastly, most importantly, were the jars set against the farthest narrow wall.
Shrine like they sat. Each filled with the same vile amber liquid, as found with in the other hidden rooms. Ragged torn and mutilated organs; some bearing the straight line of the knife, not eyes filling them as with the others, nor were the jars a match to those previously uncovered. Newspaper clippings had somehow been adhered to the jars. The clippings showing date and victim; and the body parts reportedly absent from the corpse as identified by a coroner. The same body parts swimming with in the jar, matching the clipping.
Apart from all else, set in what appeared to be a place of utter reverence, was a dust covered hinged glass box. Rectangular in shape, and the approximate size and shape of a standard tissue box.
Its contents shocked the world.
Click the picture up above. If you want to avoid the language and the preamble, start the vid at about 2.10.
N.
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Got some Ed Gein vibes at the start. Nice work on tantalizing information but never truly revealing…!
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Thank you. That is a chapter out of a novel I have been working on. I’ve only got 50000 words down and need to get it finished. All is revealed later in the part. Cheers! N.
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That’s an impressive amount!
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Your writing is amazing, I felt like I could see what you were writing about! Thoroughly creeped out 🙂
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You seriously are groovy. Thank you!
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Ok, fessup, what was in the box? A heart? That wouldn’t be too shocking, and all the genitals in tact. So? Don’t leave me hanging!😂😳😱
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Ok, I will tell you, within the box is something derived from another, but not of the body. It is the heart of the story incidentally, and is utterly vital to the plot. Without it, there is nothing more to read, nor is there any answer to the riddle of the horrors discovered lurking between the walls. N.
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Check your WP ‘Reader’
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As always, the grotesquerie in your writing is something else. I actually kind of admire that you can write these things since I’ve always had trouble with them. This one definitely has a serial killer vibe to it. I have to say as well, I have a love for writing where there is little to no dialogue but a lot of atmosphere. (The little surprises in your featured images are neat too!)
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Thank you. I struggle with dialogue. Basically I don’t know how to talk to people very well, as a result I don’t really know how people talk to one another. I am apparently quite bright, and when I do talk to people I often confuse them, or as is more often the case, bore the pants off them. Pathetic really, but it is what it is. Your comment means waaaaaay more than you may realise. Oh, I am pleased you like the picture links. You rock! N.
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