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"Huh?" You stared at Doe, snapped out of your usual exhaustion. He's unreadable as ever, omnipresent grin plastered upon his face. He repeats "I've got a game for you." A messy heart is visible upon his chest, serving as an indication of his apparent happiness.
You quirk your eyebrow quizzically. "A game? What kind?" You never took Doe for the type to play with his prey. After a brief recollection of his mannerisms, you wonder if maybe your judgement was wrong after all.
His grin only widens (impossibly?), and you notice he’s visibly shaking. Hopefully that’s a good thing. "Oh, you know... like a board game! You said you used to do game nights with your family before moving to Uncanny Valley." He pauses for a moment. "Maybe you'd feel less homesick if we tried one out?"
You had been complaining about missing home lately. Despite moving out on bad terms with your parents, you still missed them. Due to the odd aura that constantly surrounds the atmosphere of the Uncanny Valley, it's almost impossible to access anything from the 'normal' world. If you tried to take another bus out, it's possible Doe wouldn't be able to follow.
You sigh and smile softly. "Ah... Thanks, Love." You gently reach to pat the unruly curls upon his head. "I appreciate it. I'd love to play with you." He purrs beneath your touch as if starving for it. "Good!" He exclaims. "Because I’ve already got a prize for you, too! I hope you can win, hehe." He's giddied with excitement, it seems innocent. You wonder if that's a safe assumption to make.
He jumps up enthusiastically. "Let me set it up! Keep your eyes closed until I’m done, my dear" You reluctantly shut your eyes. Various shuffling and noises erupt behind you, including the clinking of something metal and some sort of dragging. It feels like forever before he calls out "Ready!"
You open your eyes and stand up from your place on the couch, stretching. Nothing could really prepare you for what Doe had set up behind you. Why did you think it'd be normal this time?
Before you is what appears to be a makeshift operating table. Your partner is laid across a wooden plank placed on the dining table. A towel is folded on the seat of one of the chairs. An array of operating tools and other sharp objects are haphazardly strewn upon it. He has also placed a metal bucket on the floor nearby as well.
You're utterly speechless. Horrified, even. "John... what is this?" You're sweating. His smile faulters. "Is this not a board game?" He furrows his eyebrows. "I heard of something called Operation... isn't this one of the games you played?"
You place your head in your hands, rubbing your eyes to soothe the headache you're developing. "No, no... it's not an actual operation, Honey." You sigh and your eyes drift to meet his. You can tell he's not taking this well. "We don't mutilate each other's bodies for fun, Doe. Not like you do."
When you first got together, Doe would go on and on about how surprising it was that you had such soft skin. He'd asked if your parents didn't rip you apart enough. Obviously, this was a troubling idea, so you've tried to explain that growing up is different for you than it is for the Normal Folk of the Uncanny Valley. He's yet to fully understand.
Doe sits up and faces you. His shirt illustrates an eye, demonstrating his attention upon you. "I didn't know. I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to mess up again..." He looked down and picked at the skin of his fingers, dejected.
It pained you to see him depressed like this. He seemingly lived for your approval. It was always extremely detrimental to Doe's health when he got like this, so you attempted to handle this situation with a compromise.
"Hey..." You approach him and comfortingly place your hand on his shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up about it. Things may be different, but it's not your fault you didn't understand. I don't love you any less." You glance among the tools he's set up. He really did work so hard...
You decide to push past your own personal boundaries and do something for Doe's sake instead. He's been quiet, probably mentally berating himself for his mistake. He treats himself so harshly, it makes you ache.
"I guess I wouldn't mind trying out your version of the game, though..." The moment those words leave your mouth, there's no going back. He gawks at you as if you've said something unbelievable. "...Really?" You muster up a pained smile, knowing you've damned yourself to what will be a horrific experience. "Yeah, really. Teach me how this works, Love."
Doe isn’t always very perceptive to in-depth emotion, so he doesn’t catch your hesitance. “Well… I’ve hidden some items and you need to cut them out. If you find them all, you’ll get the prize!” You’re slightly baffled at how similar this and the actual boardgame is. The only difference is the whole… live specimen bit. “Ah… I see. Sounds easy enough.”
He repositions himself back down on the table while you scan the tools he’s set out for you. Some of them aren’t even surgical; since when has a doctor operated with a kitchen knife? You sigh and pick up a scalpel with nervous hands. Upon closer inspection, it’s a little rusty. “Are you sure it’s safe to use these?” He nods. “The rust makes me feel all tingly, I like it.” Honestly, what else could you expect from him? This was classic Doe.
As you hype yourself up to begin, you realize something crucial. Normal People don’t actually bleed. Their innards are spongier than anything, and don’t contain organs like humans do. After realizing this, you’re slightly at ease. Although the idea of cutting into your lover’s flesh wasn’t at all exhilarating, at least it wouldn’t be as disturbing as you’re imagining it to be.
With newfound strength, you push up the hem of Doe’s shirt. He’s already removed his jacket (a rare occurrence indeed) and you can hear him breathing heavily, growing increasingly thrilled towards the prospect of his impending “game”. You carefully press the tip of the blade to the middle of his abdomen and begin positioning where you’ll perform the first incision. You place a hand on his lower stomach to steady yourself and mentally note that your hand dips in, similar to a memory foam pillow.
Doe’s body fascinated you sometimes. It was almost bearable when you made your first cut, but then the blood came. You immediately felt your stomach turn as it spilled down Doe’s sides, landing on the tile floor of the dining room. Your eyes drifted to the metal bucket on the ground near your feet. Hopefully you’ll be able to reach it if the nausea gets the best of you.
“Doe… why is there blood?” You try to remain calm, as to not alarm him to your discomfort. He still hasn’t caught on, luckily. He grins as if he’s presented you with a present. “I thought you’d like it more if it was realistic! I did some research on the insides of humans and… switched things up, so to speak.” You barely register it at first, but you feel tears welling up in your eyes.
You take a deep breath and attempt to calm yourself down. You can get through this. You’re dating a glorified murderer. As long as you remember that this is all a labor of love, you can get through this. Maybe.
You realize you’ve left the blade inserted in his skin, and the blood doesn’t stop. Is it endless? That’s not surprising. You grip it tight and continue laying a messy line down Doe’s torso. It gets easier as you do it; imagining slicing through a pillow is easier than the reality of your actions. By the time you’re done, there’s sizeable slit from his chest to just below his stomach.
You set the scalpel on the surprisingly clean towel on the chair beside you and scan the tools for something that might help keep the blood off your hands. Unfortunately, Doe didn’t think to add any latex gloves to his list of materials.
Doe’s been staring at you the entire time, as he usually does. He’s yet to say anything about your reluctance. Maybe he’s being selfish for once, letting you suffer for his own enjoyment. You severely doubted that, he’s far too selfless for that. He really is just that unaware.
Pushing through the growing nausea, you shove your hand into the wound. Doe jolts up in surprise, followed by a groan of some emotion you can’t place (pleasure?). His sudden movement had caused his own blood to splatter through the tear, and it was now all over you. Face, hair clothes, all of it was drenched. “Hey, you’ve got to stay still while I do this. Don’t wanna make any mistakes in here.”
He nods obediently. “Sorry, my love. It just tickles!” You fake another smile and nod. “It’s okay, but I do have a question. How many things have you hidden in here?” He grins. “That’s a secret!” He doesn’t elaborate. Great. While searching through the warm viscera, the slippery feeling disgusts you. You hate this. All of it. The hard object you find is so drastically different from the intestines that you feel genuine joy when pulling it out. Well… ripping it out.
What you hadn’t known was that it was actually somehow caught on some sort of tissue, and whatever it was came out with it. You have to refrain from shrieking as it hangs in your hand. At this point, you’ve reached your limit. You drop the entrails and lunge for the bucket, nearly missing it. Doe sits up as you retch, placing a hand on your back comfortingly.
“Are you okay...?” He’s concerned now. Shit. You can’t answer through the vomit, and it just keeps coming. “The bucket was supposed to be for what you took out…” Doe tried to act as if everything was still okay. It wasn’t.
When the nausea subsided and your stomach was empty, you were able to stand back up. Your back ached; between leaning over Doe and the bucket, you’ve been long past due a good stretch. You wipe your mouth of any excess bile and blink through tears. “I’m… fine. I think.” You say this to reassure Doe, but it’s really for yourself. You’re still alive and breathing. This hasn’t killed you yet.
“We don’t have to continue if you’re not having fun…” Doe’s not looking well. He’s furrowing his eyebrows and staring confusedly. You can’t ruin this for him. “No! No. We’re gonna finish this, we’re having fun. Lay down, Lay down.” He complies. Has he ever gone against you?
As you continue working, you’re able to pull out three more objects. You’ve yet to examine them and they sit on the towel on the chair, bloodied and wrapped in various fluids and innards. You’re elbow deep in his abdomen, at this point desensitized to the slip and squelch of his insides. About five minutes pass and your arm is getting tired. “Doe, is there any more left?”
He grins wide. “Just one, my dear.” You’re glad that he’s back to his usual jovial self. The last thing you needed was him doubting himself again. As you sift through the gore, he hums. “Closer…”
You reach lower, where his intestines are located. You’ve already rifled through them and found a piece tangled up in his small intestines. “But I already looked here.” You mutter absently. “Try looking further down.” You shoot him a quizzical look.
“You…” He smirks and you let out an exaggerated sigh. “You’re foul, Doe.” You protest before roughly shoving past his guts and into the area beneath his waist. He twitches beneath you as he lets out despicable cries. You shake your head. At least one of you enjoyed this.
When you find the final object, you have to yank it out harder than you expected. Doe convulsed as you did, which was slightly worrying. You stumble back once the flesh tears, and a horrid mass of entrails remains in your grip. You stare, wondering why you feel okay now.
Why aren’t you sick to your stomach? What’s wrong with you?
You turn to the chair and drop the bloody mess on top if the rest with a thick, wet slap. You exhale again, exhausted. Doe gurgles from the table, mouth full of his own blood. He swallows, then speaks again. “You’ve gotta stich me back up now, Doc!” You groan. “You’re kidding. Can’t you just heal yourself?” He shakes his head. “That wouldn’t be realistic, would it?” What a jerk.
You look towards the utensils Doe set aside for you, looking for an appropriate tool to perform the task at hand. All he’s left for you is a sewing needle and a red thread. Hardly appropriate in your opinion, but it’ll do. You assembled Doe’s skin to be as close as it can be, basically wrapping it around his remaining innards like a banana peel. Thankfully it hasn’t torn at the edges much when you were rummaging around in him, so it’ll be an almost straight scar once it’s healed. With copious amounts of dread, you sink the needle in his skin, cringing as it pierces the flesh.
By now, you’ve gotten over the blood. It makes you feel uncomfortably sticky and dries quicker than you like, leaving an uncomfortable film on your skin. At some point, some of it had gotten in your mouth. You hoped the coppery taste would subside soon. It takes ten minutes to finish stitching him up.
Unfortunately, Doe’s impatience gets the best of him. He sits up immediately after you’ve finished, which instantly opens all of the stitches. The wound opens fully and what’s left of his entrails tumble out on his lap in quite the grotesque display. You feel the familiar twirl of nausea dance around your stomach yet again.
Thankfully, he laughs it off this time and doesn’t force you to stich him up again. He’s to excited to see you’ve won. “Now it’s time for the fun part!” When you look back at him, his gash is gone. All the entrails remain, but his torso is intact, and the only indication of the previous atrocities are the long scar and caked up blood upon his clothes. Doe never ceases to amaze you.
He collects the mess you’ve amassed and plops it down on the board. It’s nasty, but now you must dig through the guts for the things he hid. Nausea tickles your insides as you do, another sign of your adrenaline fading. Separating the viscera from the bloodied objects is better than prodding through Doe’s chest cavity, though.
At the end, you’ve discovered he had concealed the following: a vial of nail polish, an eraser, a small container of hand sanitizer, a tape dispenser, and a tube of superglue. Maybe you should tell Doe to stay out of your desk drawers. With that, you’ve finished the terror that was “game night.” A shower would definitely do you some good. You turn to Doe.
“Did you have fun?” He grins from ear to ear. Of course he had fun. “I can’t wait for our next game night!” He punctuates his excitement with a tight hug, enveloping you in his intense warmth. You weakly hug him back, exhausted from the whole ordeal.
You shrug him off and finally get your well-deserved stretch. What an arduous few hours this has been indeed. “Well,” You ruminated. “I’m gonna go have myself a hot shower, love. Thanks for playing with me.” You begin to head towards your bathroom, but are stopped by a tight grip on your wrist. You can feel Doe’s stare pierce through you.
“Nuh-uh-uh, you’ve yet to collect your prize. You won, remember?” Ah yes, the prize, how could you forget. You maneuver to turn to face him, but he yanks you back by your wrist before you can. His voice is sultry in your ear as he leans in to speak. “Now it’s your turn.”
Shit.