Work Text:
ROE DEER DISSECTION: STEP-BY-STEP DEMONSTRATION
PURPOSE:
To understand.
ASSUMED TIME NEEDED:
Unknown.
MATERIALS:
1. A roe deer displaced from its herd
2. A butcher’s knife of the most unforgivable kind
3. Indifference*
4. The willingness to learn
*If, at any point during the dissection, the roe deer suddenly comes alive, do not engage with it, do not interact with it, do not set it free.
DO NOT ENTERTAIN ANY QUESTIONS REGARDING ‘HOME.’
STEP 1: THE CHEST CAVITY
The roe deer lies still and pliant on the metal table.
It is on its still-furred back, head tilted up just so to ease the drainage. Its eyes are wide open—blank and dumb in the way that animal eyes tend to be. There is not a sliver of accusation in them. Not a bit of resistance.
It is the most docile subject to lay on this table to date.
The dissector’s pointy, unsparing knife comes down upon the downy flesh of its chest.
The knife dips and the blood spills onto the beautiful pelt like a gush of smooth, raw honey, and pools onto the table.
When the dissector tugs the knife down further, they do not do so gently.
Animals do not inspire humanity when they are laid out and vulnerable.
The beginning of subject #130666’s life, as he remembers it, is not like the beginning of most lives.
It does not begin in a mother’s womb. It does not begin in a father’s arms. It does not begin under a teacher’s gentle guidance. It does not begin with the playful tug of a friend grasping a hand. It does not begin with a lover’s kiss.
It begins with a monitor.
An old, beat up monitor with a cracked screen. With a dirty outer frame. With a dozen wires protruding from the back, tangling as they all find their home on a singular, multi-plug socket.
It begins with fingers that are sticky from the sweet juice of purple grapes. Fingers that are clumsy and fumble. Fingers that do not quite yet know how to spell properly.
Fingers that, by some coincidence, press three letters: D-E-R.
Fingers that, out of curiosity, press enter.
The beginning of subject #130666’s life, as listed on official records, begins on a blank document.
It begins as a detailed page logging various failed experiments, statistics, materials, and conclusions—named test.
It officially begins on a dull September night inside a Dream Incubator where the first breath indicating a life, is drawn.
STEP 2: THE INTERNAL ORGANS
The dissector uses their hands to harshly pull apart the now-separated flesh.
It makes a sickening sound—resembling something like pulling sewed cotton apart. It is a crack, but still softer than. It is the tearing of parchment, but far more grating.
A knife is brought out once more, slashing through the thin layers of tissue that did not tear previously.
The dissector inches it upwards, it slides through the pelt like butter.
Then, it hits a bone.
The dissector pauses just for a second—then drives the knife back up faster. Harder. The metal hits the flimsy bone repeatedly, going crack, crack, crack.
With a sigh, the butcher’s knife is set aside.
A serrated blade is brought out in its stead.
Subject #130666 does not present himself in the way that he is meant to.
At his core, he is a coward. He is the greatest coward to ever exist. His mind is similar to that of a sphere. To the Earth, if you will. Yet, instead of molten rock and lava, the only thing you will find inside is a pacing man, muttering his worries and fears to himself until he makes himself sick from it.
His external appearance, on the other hand, does not reflect his internal crisis.
On the surface, he is charming. He has a face that makes you stop and pay attention. He has eyes that pin you in place and make you conscious of your movements. He has a voice that makes you want to listen. He has a build that is far stronger than it looks.
Not even the most gullible fool will believe that the heart subject #130666 keeps in his chest is as soft and compassionate as that of a child’s.
Subject #130666’s true appearance is something so repulsive, so monstrous, that it can only be described as ■■.
STEP 3: REMOVAL
The dissector sets the serrated blade aside.
They stare down at the roe deer, the two halves of its body completely pulled apart. Ribs protruding. Legs folded down as if it is offering itself as a sacrifice.
With their gloved hands, they reach inside.
For a moment, their actions seem hesitant. Fingertips brush against the slippery, blood-doused organs. It is cold. It is dead.
The dissector lets out a breath and continues their actions with renewed vigour.
With a tiny blade, they begin carefully removing the organs.
The intestines come out first, soft and wet. They drip gore as they are placed onto a side table. Second, is the stomach. It is quite heavy for an animal that is not known to have a voracious appetite. Finally, the lungs. They are the softest of all three, entirely submerged in blood.
The dissector gingerly dips their hands inside and pulls the organ out.
They are about to proceed to step four when they remember that there is one more organ left.
The topic that should never be brought up in front of, or in the vicinity of subject #130666, is something that he refers to as ‘home.’
The way he describes the place makes it sound like a paradise. A fantasy. A faraway dream that has driven him to the brink of insanity.
He says it is like the current world. There is still a sky and a land. There is still Korea with its high-rise buildings and exquisite cuisine. There is still the concept of God and other deities.
But the one thing that makes his ‘home’ sound so nonsensical and fairytale-like is the fact that it has no ghost stories. No darknesses. No disasters.
He says that it is peaceful.
He says that it is the place he wishes to return to.
He says that, and yet… when he thinks of home, he sees faces.
Sudden flashes.
A lizard head and a slack tongue. A flash of navy hair and the scent of cigarettes. A warm smile and even warmer eyes.
A colleague who sticks around without intending to leech.
A boy who wants nothing more than to save his family.
A crude scar and perfectly peeled apples. Large hands that seem to say don’t worry when they rest upon his back.
Unkempt, silvery hair and the lingering scent of chocolate donuts.
When subject #130666 is asked about his mother, he has no answer. When subject #130666 is asked about his father, he has no answer. When subject #130666 is asked about a brother or a sister, he has no answer. When subject #130666 is asked about friends or a lover, he has no answer.
Yet, when subject #130666 is asked about the year he has spent conscious in this world, he chokes up because there is so much to say.
So much to say.
And the inability to articulate it.
Subject #130666’s only real home is within Daydream, Inc.
It is in the cold and abandoned Dream Incubator that hasn’t been touched since his creation.
STEP 4: THE HEART
The dissector looks into the roe deer’s parted body, right at its glistening heart.
This time, they do not reach for any fine instruments or tiny blades.
They do not snip veins free. They do not separate the organ from the surrounding tissue. They do not do it by procedure.
The dissector reaches inside and grabs hold of the fragile organ.
The dissector yanks.
Subject #130666’s heart is a wretched, bleeding thing.
It is soft to the touch. A slight nudge will leave him so shaken that he will dedicate all his time to forgetting about the fact that you nudged him at all.
Yet, despite the softness, it is an incredibly tough muscle. It cannot be compared to the heart of a normal human being. It is a toughness that only occurs when softness is constantly kneaded and reshaped to become the exact opposite.
Still, it bleeds.
It bleeds everywhere.
It bleeds with kindness. With compassion. With guilt. With regret. With fear. With joy.
How can such a toughened heart bleed so excessively?
How can it drip pain and despair everywhere it goes, yet still attempt to clean its mess in fear of being discovered?
How can a heart created for the sole purpose of cruelty be unable to bear even just the thought of it?
It is simple.
His heart is not one toughened from cruelty, but from anguish.
Subject #130666 does not have a heart.
There is only ■■ there.
STEP 5: CONCLUSION
The dissector examines the roe deer’s gutted body with satisfaction.
Everything goes as planned.
They turn around for a moment, hands finding the hilt of a blade so abnormal that it looks hideous.
When they turn back, they stop.
The roe deer’s carcass is gone.
In its place are twisted bones, a thick, viscous liquid spilling over the table, onto the floor, and a haze of black smoke.
The dissector sets the blade down.
ROE DEER DISSECTION: STEP-BY-STEP DEMONSTRATION
CONCLUSION:
Failure. Subject #130666 returned to original form. Detainment necessary.