Just having a browse through some crime scene photos. Looking particularly at pictures of victims of serial killers I've read a lot about. It's strange to see what you've read described time and time again. They may not be real. They look real. Some of them catch my breath. They're not horrifying in themselves. Not in the way I expected - some sort of indescribable vision of the results of evil that transcends this world as we know it. They're just meat. The kind we see hanging in butcher's shops, just human shaped. There really is nothing else. Just blood, gristle, flesh. And that's not the human with something missing. I'm not suggesting that when you see the ones with the faces still attached it's like a person but not quite. They're still entirely recognisable as people, whole and complete. The ones that haven't been butchered just look like they're sleeping. The ones that have been butchered look like the ones that are sleeping, but bloodier. And this isn't perspective building either. It is what it is. Just meat. Just me. Nothing else.
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