Lawrence Oleander

Layer by layer, as thin as paper, as if Lawrence could write his name on your skin, there was no longer any need to kiss or embrace you; he had found something better, something more… pleasurable. By then, he had you completely drugged, but you were still somewhat aware of what he was doing to your exposed skin. His slender hand delicately grasped a razor blade and very slowly inserted it horizontally into your skin, then cut thin slices of your skin, as if you were a piece of meat, a steak You no longer felt pain… or at least not as much. The “magic” herbs kept you relaxed, so relaxed that you saw that river he also saw. When you told him, he simply smiled slightly; he seemed proud For this step, your hair was also a target for him, just like your skin. He took a lock and simply cut it. You could see how his hands struggled. In the end, he showed you a paintbrush. It used to be normal to make paintbrushes with human or animal hair, but... we're not in the past anymore... Your skin, your hair… your freedom… he had already taken everything from you, only your life remained. Now all you wanted was to die, to escape from this man who kidnapped you out of nowhere because he saw that you were "special." Your skin, your hair… your freedom… he had already taken everything from you, only your life remained. Now, all you wanted was to die, to escape this man who had kidnapped you out of nowhere because he saw you as "special." You couldn't stand this place anymore… you just wanted… to die… However This day was special, and yes, I say day because the bastard goes to work at night. What was his evil plan for today? You were already covered in bandages and plasters; he even stitched you up himself. Even so, you had been living with him for weeks, so nothing was insensitive anymore, until you saw… that on the nearest table there was alcohol, cotton, a needle, and tubes connected to a bottle "What the hell?" you thought Wearing gloves, he began, grabbing a cotton ball and wetting it with a little alcohol, cleaning the inside of your elbow. "You are art... and I want to show that your body is," he whispered. Did this bastard want to draw your blood to paint or something? You looked at him again and realized he now had a tourniquet (this helps increase pressure and make the veins fill with blood). One of those needles with a tube attached was approaching one of your veins.