#Nathan Blades | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wouldntyou-liketoknow · 2 years

Text

Day 6: Specimen Preservation

(Trigger Warnings: descriptions of dismemberment, gore, blood, bones, organs, knives, death, implications of illegal business, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.)

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 7

Phantom Treble was nothing if not ambitious.

A fair amount of clubs, studios, and theaters (one of which he was currently visiting) fell under his jurisdiction. His territories were linked and well-protected. He had literal hordes of people working those establishments, as well as more than enough of a budget to keep those people satisfied with their jobs for a good, long while.

But then, this was only one side of his life.

The other side was pretty similar, honestly. The primary differences were how he worked and what he worked with.

Phantom watched as his latest client (#691, to be exact) finished up a performance onstage. It’d been months since they’d found him via some grapevine, since he’d invited them to a meeting, since they’d signed the contract he’d offered them. Like all those before them, they’d been amazed at the results of their deal with Phantom.

And, like all those before them, they’d failed to thoroughly read the contract he’d given them.

They’d gotten their name out into the open, gotten to participate in some shows here and there. They’d had their fun, but they’d also just about reached the peak of their potential.

Which meant that Phantom’s part of the agreement was complete, and that it was time for them to fulfill their end of the bargain.

Client #691 bowed to thunderous applause, which Phantom contributed to (just because he had ulterior motives didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate quality entertainment). Phantom’s instincts assured him that he was the only one in the crowd who could see how the smile on Client #691’s face flickered, turning confused and distressed.

This was understandable; Phantom didn’t have a soul of his own, so he didn’t know what it would’ve felt like for a soul to suddenly start draining away from its vessel. But it didn’t take an Einstein to guess that the process probably wouldn’t have felt too great.

Client #691 took their leave, disappearing behind the curtains. Phantom watched, counting down the seconds. Three, two, one. . .

He quietly glanced down and smiled as the glowing, panicking soul of Client #691 suddenly materialized within the glass orb set in his cane’s sliver-clawed handle. Hours prior, he’d arranged for them to be the only person that would be performing tonight. That way he wouldn’t have to worry about anyone seeing them suddenly collapse into a heap behind the curtains. The rest of the audience was still cheering, which made it impossible for anyone to have heard the odd, inhuman-sounding words Phantom murmured to himself.

Afterwards, he rose from his seat and exited the auditorium. He strolled down the hall, nodding to the staff he passed along the way. They greeted him in kind, some smiling politely while others went a bit pale. A select few of his employees knew what his true business was and, of course, were bound to silence. There was no doubt that he was a fair boss to them, but he supposed he couldn’t blame them for being anxious.

Phantom soon found himself in his office (he had one in each of his establishments). He hung a little sign that read DO NOT DISTURB on the doorknob, then locked the door for good measure. After that, he tapped the end of his cane against the floor.

In response, a long shadow residing in the corner of the office seemed to shift, as though something inside it had stirred in its sleep. The shade continued to stretch and bulge out of the wall until it finally formed an irregularly-shaped opening, bearing some semblance to the mouth of a tunnel. Phantom stepped across the imposing threshold without so much as blinking. The pitch-black walls of the cavity collapsed in on themselves before unfolding into a completely different room.

Phantom’s den was wide, almost cavernous, yet clearly well lived-in. It was dimly-lit, calm and clean. Each of the four walls were made up of shelves, the wood of which was stained with the dark shades of different colors.

Phantom approached the green-stained shelves, and, as if on cue, a small, silvery, three-legged stand materialized on one of them. Phantom carefully plucked the orb from the hilt of his cane—where a vacant orb immediately appeared to take its place—and deposited it onto that stand. The client’s soul flickered and writhed, fitting right in with the copious amounts of souls lining the ledges above and below it.

Phantom reached into his vest and produced the contract his client had filled out. He made sure that the ribbon keeping it rolled up had changed from white to red. Then, with a flick of his wrist, the contract was sent flying to the gray-stained shelves (which were divided between books and scrolls).

Yet another one for the collection. Phantom really was just that good, wasn’t he?

Of course, this was just Client #691’s soul. There was still the matter of Client #691. . .

Phantom glanced over to the center of the room, where a long, metallic table was taking up space. A vintage pendant light hung from the ceiling, casting a sort of halo over said table as well as the body that rested on it.

Phantom chewed his lip, then dug his cellphone out of his pocket. He dialed a certain number, then waited as the other line rang. The person he was calling was something of an eccentric. He was one of the more successful merchants the Black Market had to offer—like Phantom, he wouldn’t tolerate any of the really disgusting stuff, but the business he did tolerate (mainly chemical trafficking and cadaver testing) was still very much illegal.

“It never fails,” Anti-Matter sighed after picking up the phone. “I only ever get calls when I’m in the middle of something.”

“You’re saying you’d prefer to get calls in your off-time?”

“Hell no! I’ve already paid an arm and leg to keep my conversations from being tapped.”

Phantom chuckled. “Funny choice of words. Made any sales recently?”

“Not since last month. But those kidneys did make me about a hundred-and-fifty thousand, so I’m not strapped for caaAAAOH MY GOD NO–!”

Somewhere in the background, a loud crash was followed by the sound of glass shattering.

Phantom could hear sprinting footsteps alongside a light thud as the phone was dropped against a flat surface. He had to stifle a laugh as a string of muffled yet very colorful words set in Anti-Matter’s voice joined whatever cacophony was happening on his end.

Sooner or later, the noise came to a halt. When Anti-Matter returned to the phone, he was very clearly out of breath, and it seemed his patience was next to go.

“Phantom, I’m going to be blunt here: if someone isn’t dying right now, I’m hanging up.”

“Well. . .not dying, perse,” Phantom mused. “But they are dead. Does that still count?”

“Maybe,” Anti-Matter admitted. “Still doesn’t explain why you decided to call me about it. Unless death just reminds you of me for some reason, which isn’t as flattering as you’d think. ”

“What if I said I had an offer for you?”

“When people use that line, it typically means they don’t actually have whatever they say they have,” Anti-Matter pointed out. “But, twisting words is kind of your thing, so. . .”

“Touch’e.” Phantom replied. “I’ve got a potential specimen.” He looked over the body before adding, “Six potential specimens, technically. If you count the pieces it needs to be cut into.”

“For the sake of convenience, I would. I’m assuming this is another one of your contractors?”

“Does that really matter?” Phantom asked, not realizing the glorious wordplay he’d just committed until Anti-Matter let out a half-exasperated, half-enraged sigh. Phantom simply smiled at the thought of his cohort’s face right now.

After a few seconds, Anti-Matter pronounced, “Diaphonize them and I’ll forget what you just said.”

“I can do that,” Phantom said with a nod. “Although I’m really not sure why you’d want to forget a moment of pure genius.”

“Don’t push it,” Anti-Matter warned. “I’ll stop by tomorrow morning to pick ‘em up. Once the photos are uploaded and I get some good bidders, I’ll contact you and we’ll work out how to split the money.”

“You’re too kind.”

“Barely.” With that, Phantom’s accomplice hung up.

Phantom put his phone away, cracking his knuckles as he crossed the room. Nestled in one corner was a small mahogany cabinet. Inside said cabinet was Phantom’s prized collection of vinyl. After some hemming and hawing, Phantom loaded a Green Day album into the well-loved record player that rested on top of the cabinet. As music began filtering through the room, Phantom left his cane leaning against the cabinet’s side, lightly bobbing his head along to the lyrics as he got to work.

Phantom scanned the lower of the blue-stained shelves, then spent the next few seconds carrying his larger spare containers (six aquariums, to be exact) over to his desk. He looked each one over; they were definitely functional, but they were also. . .plain. And Phantom, like anyone with a single creative bone in their body, knew that the more unique a product looked, the more customers it would attract.

He placed his hands on either side of the nearest aquarium, muttering in his native tongue. The glass slowly but surely started to glow, heating up to the point where awful blisters should have started appearing on Phantom’s palms. In no time at all, the glass became malleable, allowing Phantom to mold it into a more triangular shape. The metal frame and lid moved along with the glass, fitting as though it’d been designed that way in the first place.

That’d work nicely for the torso. . .

Phantom repeated the process with the other aquariums until they each looked much more aesthetically pleasing (ovular tubes for the arms and legs, as well as a sphere for the head). The glass would need some time to cool, so Phantom ventured over to the table.

A black knife tower sat at the head of the table, holding—what the hell else?—a dozen different knives. Some were designed for medical purposes, others were meant for simple butchering; one thing they all had in common, however, were rose-gold blades that each boasted specific carvings of arcane symbols.

At the snap of Phantom’s fingers, those symbols began to glow similarly to burning embers. Then, the tools were lifted into the air by invisible hands, moving to hover around the corpse. A scalpel ran the length of the client’s back, creating a long, thin laceration. As expected, blood began to seep out from the cut.

Phantom whispered a command, and the blood obeyed. It climbed into the air, almost resembling a snake as it hovered. He snatched what looked like a perfectly normal flask from one of the purple-stained shelves. He twisted it open and held it aloft; the blood responded by funneling itself inside. None of it spilled out, despite the fact that it should’ve been impossible for the flask to hold it all. Phantom closed the flask back up and returned it to its place.

Meanwhile, the knives got down to business. The larger, more serrated utensils sawed at the body’s neck, arms, and legs. The smaller, more precise tools focused on cleaving the skin into strips. The sounds of metal shearing against bone were drowned out by Billie Joe Armstrong’s voice.

(Phantom technically didn’t have to watch the process, but it was a safety precaution. Magic was a semi-sentient thing that took some serious power to work with, and sometimes, even with someone as experienced as Phantom, it could get a wild idea and throw a wrench into his plans. Besides, macabre stuff never bothered him anyway.)

It took about ten minutes or so, but the client’s body was skinned. The many strips of said skin floated across the room to pack themselves into another spare jar on the blue-stained shelves, which then escorted itself to the lower purple-stained shelves.

Phantom watched, wondering if Anti-Matter would take that too; if not for more scientific purposes, so long as it was tanned, it could be used to make a jacket, or boots, or watch straps, almost anything really.

The arms, legs, and head had all been neatly severed from the torso. Not too shabby for a bunch of animated knives. Phantom hummed in approval, to which the knives returned to their tower and stopped glowing.

Phantom went to the purple-stained shelves, gathering up a few certain bottles, jars and jugs containing a few certain chemicals. He brought them over to his desk and, after making sure the aquariums had sufficiently cooled, murmured yet another incantation. The body parts came at his call, silently depositing themselves into their display cases. Phantom then took a moment to fill each aquarium with a mixture of trypsin and glycerin, somehow having a fair amount of said chemicals leftover afterwards.

Finally, it was time for the part that was actually interesting.

As soon as the liquid touched the body parts, the tissues and muscles began to flicker from the inside out. The natural pinks and reds of raw flesh slowly but surely dulled, fading to gray, then white, then. . .well, nothing really. They now blended in with the glass; you wouldn’t have to squint in order to see them, but they really did look like works of laser-engraved art.

Not for long, though. Phantom looked over his bottles of dyes and ran through a mental list of appealing color combinations.

For as scientifically complex of a process as diaphonization was, the steps were surprisingly simple. No, the lion’s share of the work was how long the procedure usually took. Something as small as a mouse could take at least three months to fully clear and stain.

However, that was how humans went about diaphonization.

Phantom was many things, but a human was not among them. So, of course, he had a few tricks up his sleeves in order to speed up the process.

He eventually upended two bottles over the triangle-shaped aquarium. The dyes (green and purple) plopped against the surface of the chemical bath, leaving misty trails and resembling clouds as they sank deeper.

Phantom lightly tapped on the glass. The dye droplets halted in place, then almost seemed to be swimming as they collided with the client’s torso. The colors spread quickly; it only took a couple moments before the client’s ribs, spine and shoulder blades were tinted violet. The client’s heart, lungs, liver, stomach and intestines turned such a shade of green that they almost appeared to be glowing.

Phantom repeated the process, using blue and pink for the client’s arms and legs. The head was a bit trickier to finalize, but he managed to make a color that resembled a sunset via combining red, orange, yellow, and magenta.

Once the staining procedure was finished, Phantom sealed up the aquariums and took a step back to review his handiwork. Despite the fact that he couldn’t fully understand some parts of human psychology, Phantom was still aware of how disturbing it was to view these specimens as pretty.

And at the same time, there was no denying just how pretty they were.

Phantom had seen hundreds of diaphonization projects for sale online (then again, those projects were things like fish and frogs and snakes and rats. Not humans who had signed a contract without reading the fine print), so it was obvious that plenty of humans saw the appeal, too.

Phantom checked his phone. The clock on his lockscreen read 10:30 pm. It was well past the theater’s closing time, but he knew some places nearby would still be open.

With that in mind, he turned away from the specimens, turned off his record player, collected his cane and left the den entirely. He’d have to get up pretty early tomorrow morning in order for Anti-Matter’s pickup to go unseen, but that was a problem for his future self. Right now, he had some well-earned free time on his hands.

And what better way to use that free time than to look for his next client. . ?

@that-bat @sammys-magical-au @ineedallofthehugs @captainrose35 @yancy1nancy @dreamsofgods @sw33tst4rs @echoing-night @butterboyfly @dungeon-dragons-dragons @pumpking1sheepy @whumpitywhumpwhump

#my writing #goretober 2022 #nathan sharp #natewantstobattle #phantom nwtb #antimatter matpat #tw dismemberment #tw gore #tw bones #tw organs #tw knives/blades #tw death #tw implied illegal business

14 notes · View notes