Art, bloody art (horror flash fiction, 335 words)

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

A hammer struck a nail as a man in a dirty trench coat worked. The room was dark, save for the chandelier that held six lit candles. The light it gave off moved as it swung on an old chain. He bent down and picked up another piece of his décor, pressing it up against the old wall and staring at it before pulling a nail out of his mouth and hammering it into the wall before stepping back and staring at his handiwork.

Yes, this would do for now. His gaze moved along the long, slick item that ran along the wall, slowly curving down until it reached its origin. The source of his décor twitched slightly, and the artist considered simply cutting the intestine off and hanging it up.

The chandelier swung slowly above him, and he decided on a course of action. It had been far too long since he had placed this kind of art in his lovely old home. With a dark smile, he walked downstairs and out to the tool shed. The night sky was clear, and the old manor was surrounded by woodlands.

Not a soul to bother him while he worked. Opening his tool shed, he walked in and picked up the old spikes and a larger hammer before going inside again. The severed head of a brown haired girl greeted him in the doorway. He liked that piece, the girl had tried so hard to stop him before he finally acquired her for his art. The rest of her body was being prepared for his paints.

He gently pushed the head out of the way and walked back into the room with his latest piece, picking the body up and propping it up against the wall. He worked quickly, driving the spikes through the shoulders and thighs to hold up the body.

He stepped back and smiled at his work, and there were always more brave souls for him to acquire as materials.

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