Dr. George Briggs had a job he loved. Since he was a boy he was interested in how the body works. Not just the on-the-surface stuff, but the details. Reflecting back to the times when he was training as a doctor, he found them to be the most enjoyable of his life. His first year in the university gave him the opportunity to work in the mortuary where the bodies of patients were kept. Dead matter: but that made no difference to George. He was fascinated by the details of their insides and outsides. Keeping the bodies nice and fresh was most interesting. He did have a proud feeling when the bodies were picked up for burial, knowing that some of his work contributed to their fresh appearance. He was never actually praised for his work, but achieving the best results for the pathology examination was reward enough. What he did not know was the nickname he had from the other students: “Grizzly George”.
With time George passed through all the facets of medical school, and was qualified, but pathology remained his favourite. He did not actually want to become a pathologist, but remained at medical school teaching other students the details of the work.
George had become quite a well-known authority in his job and financially he was well rewarded. He had never married, not that he wanted to marry, but he never seemed to be lucky finding the right partner. Perhaps it was the answer to his occupation that deterred a future partner. It was not exactly cheerful when someone answered “pathology professor” and went on to explain the details of the work. George just did not seem to realise that this remark could work in a negative way on a young lady, but George was human and had the same human desires any any other man. He soon discovered that he could have a girlfriend, if he paid enough, and that was the solution to satisfying his desires.
George also had a hobby. It started when he was a boy, to be exact it was when his father was driving and ran over a cat that had strayed at the wrong time into the path of their car. It happened just around the corner to where he lived. George’s mother started crying and his father was devastated. This seemed strange to George. He saw the poor creature on the road, not a very pretty sight, but that night he crept out of the house and took a closer look. He knew why, and put some of the cats organs into a glass jar he had taken with him for that purpose. After a while he had to throw them away as they did not stay as fresh as George would have liked them to. After the cat there were a few mice and birds, but always the same problem. The body parts just did not stay fresh. He managed to keep his curious hobby to himself, stowing his souvenirs away in the garden shed, and eventually mixing them with the compost heap in the garden.
Of course, when George began his studies, all his problems were solved. Now he could smuggle a few human parts out of the mortuary. Who missed the odd kidney or liver? No-one really, the bodies were sewn together again, mostly by George. The other students did not seem to be so keen on the work. He had also now learned how to preserve his keepsakes, although it seemed to his parents that his requirements for alcohol were quite high. George reassured them that it was important as a medicine student for certain experiments he had to carry out. He then kept his “collection” under the floor boards in his room and was glad for the day when he eventually qualified and could afford his own apartment. He just bought an extra refrigerator. Eventually he was in such a good financial position that he could buy his own house. He made sure that the cellar area was large enough to accommodate the many glasses with their contents. Now that he was professor, his opportunities were vast and he needed room.
He still paid his visits now and again to a certain part of town where women were easy to buy. One evening he was on his way when he saw a female figure waiting on the street corner.
“Going anywhere special mister? Need company?”
George decided why go shopping when the goods were already there.
“How much?” he asked.
The prostitute named him a price and he decided that would be just right.
"Where are we going?” George asked.
“At the moment, I don’t have my own place” she said. “I’m sharing with a girl friend and she is busy at the moment”. She gave George a wink as she said it.
George realised what she meant and invited her back to his place. He had a plan developing in his twisted pathological mind. “Why have a kidney when you can have all”. So the lady decided to accept and went willingly with George. On the way George noticed that his new friend had a few tell-tale marks on her arm, obviously she was a drug addict, but he did not mind.
They arrived at George’s house and the prostitute asked how he liked it. George said just normal would do, but let’s have a drink first to get warmed up. He prepared two glasses of whisky and the girl’s eyes lit up. She was not used to being spoilt like this. However, George had mixed something in her drink and she soon fell asleep, never to awaken again.
George had to think fast. He decided the deep freezer was the best place for the body until he had organised things. The first purchase he made was a glass tank, the size being high enough and wide enough to accommodate one human body. He then ordered the various chemicals he needed and filled the tank. He also did some shopping, buying the sort of clothes he liked to see a woman dressed in, telling the shop assistant it was a surprise for his wife. His taste was light chiffon that moved in the breeze, knowing that in liquid the same effect would be achieved. He soon had everything organised in the cellar and the young lady’s body was put into the liquid in the tank wearing the clothes George had bought especially for the occasion. He was quite pleased with the result.
There are some men that steal a painting by a master, lock it away and spend hours just looking at it on their own. So it was with George, but he like to watch his own personal human specimen. It seemed that the “specimen” he had in his tank was not missed. There was nothing mentioned on the news on the television or in the newspapers, but there was one thing that was bothering George. His “specimen” was not exactly a good one. Why buy a painting on a market stall when you can have a Van Gogh?
George went hunting. He wanted something perfect. He decided to take a walk to a better part of town near the park. He soon found his ideal woman. She was walking along the street; just someone that decided to go out at the wrong time in the wrong place. George liked her curves, her face, her hair, it was perfect, real class. He pulled up beside her and asked the way to a certain street. She bent forward to give an answer and before she knew what had happened George had injected her with a heavy sedative. As it was near the park, there were no people watching and George dragged her into the car.
She also never woke up, and was soon in the tank, the other inferior piece being removed and dissolved in another tank with acid. George of course dressed his new victim for the part. Now George was happy. He had a perfect “specimen” in his tank and could watch her for hours on his own.
This time there was a small catch in his capture. He had captured the police chief's wife. I suppose all criminals make mistakes at some time or another.
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