" SKIN "
Over thirty years ago, Madden Chambers, a wealthy man from New York was found lying in resedue. Third degree burns covered ninety-nine percent of his body, his home was totally destroyed. The neighbors hated him so much they didn't bother calling 911. Madden wasn't expected to survive. The doctors contacted his family, but they didn't care wheather he lived or died. Apparently he had made quite a few enemies. Madden was hated by many, and envied by all. He survived his near death experience only to become this hideous frame of a man.
It was a cold rainy night in New York, but it didn't stop the drug addicts, hobo's, and prostitutes from roaming the streets. On every corner, each dark deserted alley, a forgotten soul unexpectedly awaits their sinister fate.
Madden seeked the undesirable of society, the homeless, the druggies, ladies of the night. Nobody cared about these people, just as they didn't care for him. It made it easy for him to fulfill his desire without drawing attention.
Living in a secluded area of New York, Madden sits at the window and looks out at the rain. Tears fall from his eyes as the rain falls from the sky. He felt regret, hurt, and lived a painful life. Madden had no skin. Only hideous veins embedded in bloody tissue.
Skin graphs had failed, and the doctors couldn't explain why, or how he was still alive. But Madden knew. Some kind of force possessed his body on that tragic day. A power so profound that it drove Madden to want to live, to destroy, to kill, to skin his victims alive.
The fresh skin of his victims soothed the pain his body endured. His only escape from the constant severity of it, was to keep it satisfied. Each new graph would last twenty four hours. He was able to go out in public and mingle with humans without them realizing who or what he was.
The only problem was, his decaying odor. It was foul, and repulsive. The rotting skin was a sign, a sign it was time for another kill. Even Madden couldn't live with that odor.
Midnight was approaching, as Madden perched behind a garbage bin. He knew sooner or later, a hobo, or hooker would be coming along. It wasn't long before a victim was headed for their doom. Dressed in a black hooded cape, Madden grabs the hooker. He didn't kill the woman, he taped her mouth, and drug her to his apartment. He had to have his victims alive, If the skin was to take.
He took the woman to his cellar, tied the hookers feet, and hung her upside down in the air. The woman was screaming as loud as she could, but it was no use. Nobody could hear her cries for help. Madden had sound proofed the cellar years ago.
Madden took off his hooded cape, revealing his hideous face. The woman began to scream louder. Madden grabbed his deer knife, and started cutting her skin. The blood flowed from her body to the blood stained floor. Her horrific screams ended, as he pulled her skin from the tissue.
It was a perfect cut, a perfect suit. He hang it on a clothes hanger, and desposed of the hookers body. A deep dark well was her final resting place. A woman no-one will miss, a forgotten soul. Madden tightened and sealed the lid to the well. A grave, which held many skinless bodies.
Madden sprayed the skin to soften its texture, and put it on his body. He sighed with relief. It felt so good to feel human again. There was nothing that could ease his pain, like a fresh coat of skin.
Madden had twenty four hours to enjoy the classy part of New York, and who knows, he may even buy a new suit to go with his fresh coat of skin....