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Are you there, Margret? It’s me. God.

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     When someone tries to play God, not many will agree with their methods. Mainly because the pretenders see their interpretation of God as a very violent and cruel man, with little to no mercy and that there has to be order no matter where it is. But every now and then, there is that one pretender who displays themselves as not God, but as a brother or sister of the mighty man himself. A more humble version of the wild assumption of who he really is. And one of those humble people is a woman named Spice, the Woman in Red. Upon first glance she doesn’t seem all that…nice. With her long red hair and very stoic features, long needle-like nails and black tar covered hands that on occasion spread up her arms. Rumors have it her nails are so long and thin, they are needles themselves. However, her looks will fool, but past her creepy demeanor and way of talking, she’s actually quite nice and very understanding to a point she may know— Sympathy.

     But today, she had no sympathy. She had a job and she never went nice on her jobs, no matter the pay, no matter the person. Labyrinth has been her trusty friend for eon’s, going on killing spree’s together. Creating humans out of the worst body parts only, going back on deals, ruining people’s lives. So when it came to each other, they’d do anything. And that’s exactly what Spice was doing. A week ago, she got an urgent Letter from the blue haired mutt, asking for Spice to save her mind and soul but to create a body durable enough to contain the overwhelming power she possessed. At first the odd Voodoo woman didn’t quite understand until she re-read the note over and over again. She didn’t think the woman was serious. She created bodies for others, but they weren’t anyone like Labyrinth. The Woman in Red would only sigh, she would do it. But she hoped Labyrinth knew the trouble and pain she was putting herself through.

     The day came where Labyrinth had to say her goodbye’s was the most exhausting. She put up quite a fight just because one person wasn’t there, having her departure a literal struggle. All the way to the point where she had to knock her out in the only way she knew how. By driving a hollow needle into her temple, knocking her out cold for the next couple hours.        Pulling Labyrinth into her home, and onto the shiny silver table, the worst was yet to come. Looking over the poor soul she went to prepare.

     She woke up cold, eyes snapping open. She couldn’t move… Arms flex, but not a single inch gave way, her stomach and thighs tense, and the same result. She tried to lift her head, and it was maybe the heaviest of all her limbs. Eyes flick from once place to another before looking down at herself. She could feel her eyes water, she was nude. For the moment she forgot where she was and who was with her, why she was so heavy to the point she seemed…paralyzed. Panic washed over her, those animal instincts fighting for dominance as she suddenly yelled out, pain and terror laced with such an angry sound, her eyes dilating as she tried to thrash about, but it was to no avail. 

“Calm, sweet child. You’re safe.” 

     Almost immediately she froze, those wild eyes darting to her right before seeing the Voodoo woman, a doll in her hand. A pebble was sewn onto the head, and needles stuck out of the arms and legs. So that’s how she was keeping the woman still. But the familiar face made her relax. There was a smile on the Morrigan’s face, one that held comfort yet pity. “This isn’t going to be fun for you or me. So I’m going to start now…Please take a couple of breaths. You’re gunna need them.” Her words didn’t help calm the mind, but Labyrinth knew she had to listen. She closed her eyes, taking in as much air as those lungs would allow before exhaling slowly. She repeated that two more times before looking over to Spice. A tray was laying there now, and the woman stripped herself of any loose clothing, standing there in a bra and shorts. She always loved the feel of blood on her skin. But this…this is different. If so much as one needle falls off that doll, and Labyrinth gets free. Spice wanted as little clothing to latch onto as possible. Picking up a skinning knife, she slowly looked over to Labyrinth. “Good luck.”

     A brow rose, good luc— It was like fire, liquid fire that jumped and latched onto her body, ripping and tearing away at her. Eyes widen as the small blood vessels bulged. Her fingers curled into fists, her body tensing up as she started to try to thrash. She could see the long piece of skin fall onto the ground. By the looks of the tattoo it was the top of her thigh. Her teeth ground together, her tongue shoving itself against the back of her pearly chompers. Another, then another, then another. She could feel the blood pool onto the table, her eyes rolling back into her skull as Spice skinned the woman. She wasn’t phased by the pain Labyrinth was experiencing. Not because she didn’t care, but it’s because she couldn’t stop every few seconds to comfort her. What felt like ages, was only about fifteen minutes until Spice was looking down at her, the blade sliding up to her forehead. Her brows furrowed, panicked noises flooding from bitten lips. She was regretting this, more and more every second. She was lightheaded from the loss of blood, yet for some reason she didn’t die yet. The Woman in Red tensed her arm before yanking the blade down, and all Labyrinth saw was red. Her mouth parted, a blood curdling scream escaping the poor skinless woman, The blade went to her cheeks, then chin, down to her neck before she felt something metal hook into her eye sockets. Her eyes…oh no.

     She saw tweezers and a spoon. A fucking SPOON. She was too sore to speak, too sore to try to close lidless eyes. The fact that the pain was so intense she didn’t even notice that her eyelids were missing. Her breathing was rapid, eyeballing that spoon as Spice once more smiled, trying to reassure the best a Frankenstein’s monster could. And she continued. Sliding the spoon under her right eyeball, her vision blurring suddenly. Her back arched before slamming back down against the table, a loud splurch sound echoing around the room as she withered in her own blood. There was a soft suction sound before suddenly everything went black in her right eye, her left eyeball sliding over to see her right ocular sphere was hanging out of its socket, hanging on by a vein. Or…something. It was bulging though. A low whisper protruded before looking away. A small little snip was heard. And she gave out, everything turning black.

“–AKE UP!”

She jolted, but she didn’t see a damn thing. She couldn’t tell if her eyes were open or closed, but for some reason her head was pounding, as if someone took a jackhammer and just plowed away at her cranium. That is…she remembered. She didn’t have eyes anymore. She tried to make a fist, but she couldn’t. Her jaw was slack, her tongue was missing, her teeth…vanished. She could tell she was bald, so she was probably scalped too.

“I wouldn’t try moving, I clipped and removed all your tendons. You’re fine, they’re replaced, and you have new eyes. You’re just bandaged. You were out for quite some time. Had to remove your brain and soul soon after you blacked out so I wouldn’t lose you. But just a few more stitches and tendon checks, need to re-attach your tongue and you’re done.”

She just stared. She didn’t hate the woman, Spice was only doing exactly what Labyrinth asked of her. Molding a new body to withstand high levels of power. But deep down….she was mad. She was in pain, mad, burning, sore. It didn’t take long for her to just groan, falling slack once more as she just gave up. Just needed to rest…a lot of rest.

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