Hello people from the internet, first time posting one of these. I wanted to make a little story for this year´s Writter´s Jam, so here I am. Hope you like it

[Disclamer: This story contains lots of gore, Cannibalism and akward escenes, If any of this things make you uncomfortable consider not reeding this story, discression is advised]

Prompts: Skin and Glutton

Putrid Greed

—Are you sure about applying this procedure, Dr. Corrum? I've heard it's very dangerous.

—Oh, don't worry, Lady Tormen will feel much better once I'm finished. Believe me, I won't let you down— Corrum said as he put on his sanitizing mask and took a dagger from his bag.

He had been in that mansion with its smooth, black walls for some time now, three days to be exact.

One peaceful night on February 20th, 750, a strange carriage appeared before the gates of the inn where he always slept. They needed him urgently. He had to leave that very night in that vehicle along with Chalybe, the head butler and most trusted man of the Tormen manor.

Thirty minutes had passed when they entered the depths of the Leniarbos forest.

—Finally, we're far from intruding ears— Chalybe remarked.

—I suppose you'll think about explaining why you need me in a place like this.

—Oh, of course Dr. Corrum. You know how controversial the affairs surrounding the Lord are. I couldn't have explained why we needed thou so urgently in the middle of the village, you know how easily rumors spread.

—Hurry up, Chalybe, don't beat around the bush.

—Well… You see… The Tormen family is going through a rough patch. A few years ago, the Miss died of a rare illness. It was so sudden we didn't know how to react. We tried everything to save her life, we called the best doctors and the highest priests, but nothing worked. Now, Lady Tormen seems to have the same illness as her mother. We need your help to save her life.

—Oh… I see… How is the patient?

—She's been in bed for several days now. She's been vomiting a lot of blood lately.

—And her mood?

—She can barely communicate; she just lies there in pain.

—How long ago did it start?

—Two months ago, perhaps? I honestly don't remember clearly.

—I'll see what I can do— Corrum said, letting go a little exhale.

After three long hours of travel, the dark manor came into view, standing like a pillar on the large plateau that surrounded it. Corrum was greatly impressed by its meticulous details, it had large stained-glass windows finely decorated with beautiful religious images.

Corrum got out of the carriage, bag in hand. Chalybe opened the manor's large doors and led him to Lady Pecunia Tormen's room.

—Oh, Doctor, I'm glad you've arrived! — Said Lord Tormen, the manor's owner, sitting and holding his beloved daughter's hand.

—Lord Tormen, it's a pleasure to see you.

—Did Chalybe tell you about the problem?

—Of course. I'll need to do an initial examination. I need you to leave the room, I don't want to risk your life.

—Alright, the sooner the better... By the way, did Chalybe tell you about our other call?

—No, who else did you call?

—Father Conscien will be here shortly— Chalybe said —That man works miracles, I'm sure he'll help you.

—Well, I need you to leave. I don't like keeping people waiting.

Corrum put on his trusty mask and began examining Pecunia. His main hypothesis was that she probably had an imbalanced humor, clearly her body was trying to expel the excess blood, but her mood didn't reflect this imbalance. In any case, he decided that the best course of action would be to apply bloodletting. He grabbed his dagger and his soporific sponge, sedating Pecunia with the latter.

—Don't worry, Pecunia, everything will be alright.

After sedating her, he made two clean cuts on her forearms and let the blood drain out.

He began to salivate. His skin shuddered at the sight of the sores on the arm and the way the blood spilled onto the ground, like a twisted but delicious waterfall, like a river of pure pain.

«No, I mustn't, not with this family, not now»

His trembling hands began to delicately touch the sores, weakly squeezing the fluid from the girl's flaccid flesh.

Corrum licked his lips with each glance.

«But... no one would see me... no one would know... »

He placed his tongue near the wound and pressed hard on the flesh... Delicious.

Ever since he was little, Corrum had been like this, often examining the animals that died in the yard, trying to prevent the birds from eating his subjects. One day he wondered what delicacy the scavengers were saving.

That fateful night, the scavengers surrounded him as they watched him enjoy their usual meal, like fascinated, their eyes fixed on his small, childlike body, vomiting and then eating the rotten flesh again, its bones glistening. Everyone feasted that night, not only Corrum, discovering his future obsession, but also the scavengers, who, although they didn't eat the flesh, were still fed on the rot of those souls.

Night had fallen, Corrum had satiated his hunger, but his gluttony still controlled him.

He opened the windows of the small guest room where he was and let out a heart-rending pain in his stomach, seconds later, his bile was already meters away, on the manor's lawn.

It was already morning when Corrum got up and sat on his bed to eat his breakfast, a small piece of bread that he kept carefully in his bag.

«I can't believe I have to eat this garbage»

There was a knock at his door.

—Good morning, Corrum, I've brought your breakfast— Said Chalybe, who entered with a plate of beef in his hands.

—Oh, don't worry, I'm already eating.

—Thou diet isn't helping you at all, here—He said, placing the plate between Corrum's legs—Oh, I'll go check on Pecunia. I wonder how she is.

—I made her a bloodletting last night. She should be fine.

—I hope so... please, look after the young lady. I don't like to see her suffer.

—Don't worry.

—Chalybe, come here! —A shrill voice called from downstairs.

—I'm coming, my Lord! Come here too, Corrum, the Father must have arrived by now.

—Let me eat, I'll come down later.

—Oh, of course. I'll be going.

As soon as Corrum was alone, he hurriedly threw the well-cooked beef out the window.

«Ew, this meat is already ruined, I need fresh meat... maybe an unannounced check-up... no, I shouldn't... although...»

Corrum slowly left the room and entered Pecunia's. The young woman simply stared at him with innocent eyes, like those of a lamb about to taste its sharp destiny.

—Hello, Pecunia... How are you feeling?

The closer Corrum got, the more terror filled the girl's eyes.

—You noticed the marks on your body, didn't you? I had to bleed you— he said, removing her bandage and placing his hand on the girl's still-open wound —Though these probably aren't the only ones you found.

Pecunia tried to avoid Corrum's sweaty hands, whose wild gaze lingered with desire on the wound he was manipulating.

—Don't even try to avoid this, Pecunia. You'll end up buried anyway, either because of your strange illness...

Corrum drew his dagger from his pouch, ready to cut another piece, another feeding from her frail body.

—Or because I end up killing you myself...

The dagger delicately touched the girl's healthy tissue, a tiny trickle of blood falling from her arm. Corrum touched this blood with his fingers and, without thinking, placed his stained finger in his mouth.

At that moment, there was a knock at the door.

—Come in

—Good morning Dr. Corrum, I've heard a lot about you—Said a burly man, Tormen and Chalybe following very closely behind him.

—You must be Father Conscien— Corrum said, examining a strange necklace the man had on his neck. Noticing the gaze, Conscien covered the necklace with his hand.

—The one and only, a high-ranking official of the Ecclesiam Sun. It's a pleasure to meet you—He said as he grabbed Corrums hands with theirs—Allow me to ask, what are thou doing here?

—Oh, nothing, just checking on Pecunia. I was thinking of administering another bloodletting, I'm worried she won't get better— Corrum took the girl's frail hands and began to gently caress them.

It was as if only Corrum's skin could hurt her, she tried to push his hand away.

A pair of deathly eyes made her pause.

—Well, that's why I'm here. I need you to give me some space. We'll begin a prayer. Would you like to join us?

—Oh, I'd love to, but I must analyze the girl's tissue. Perhaps I'll find something— he said, cutting a piece of the girl's skin.

Pecunia writhed in pain.

Corrum left the room. Conscien and his companions formed a circle before the girl, holding hands.

“Oh, holy Rutilans, Father of all beings,

Watch over your daughter, shelter her in your impassive soul.

Save her from evil, prevent the arrival of Vitemors and his fearsome jaws…”

However much she tried to move, Pecunia couldn't stop their chanting. She needed to speak, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't break the mens out of their trance.

“Lead her through beautiful meadows of wisdom and temperance.

Restore to this dying soul the hope she once had.

For you can do all things, oh light of dawn.

For you will give her breath, oh ray of mercy…”

In her despair, she removed the sleeves of her thin clothing and the bandages Corrum had left on her, showing the mens the marks on her arms and shoulders. Giant scars were visible on her skin, patches of exposed flesh, stripped bare, bleeding as if trying to expiate the girl's rage and pain, as if trying to rid herself of all the fear that gnawed at her mind and bound her to that disgusting creature.

—Stop! — Conscien shouted upon noticing the scars.

—Oh, for the saint light, my Pecunia! What are these marks?! Her mother never had anything like this!

—They look like they were made with a knife— Chalybe said —It's the mark of a clean cut.

—Summon Corrum right now, Chalybe. That man owes me an explanation!

Minutes later, Corrum and Chalybe were already in the room, filled with doubtful glances and great fear, as if the mere presence of that man distorted something previously commonplace.

—Corrum! — Tormen shouted —What do these marks you made on my daughter mean?

—Oh, well, you see, my Lord— he said, holding the girl's arm and lifting the wounds —These wounds are the reason I wanted to analyze the girl's tissue. I found a rare skin disease, probably a way of expressing the imbalance of humors she possesses.

—Oh, for the grace of Rutilans, why didn't you tell us sooner!

—Making thou nervous about such a dangerous illness would be ridiculous, it would only put more pressure on me than I can bear.

—What does it take to heal my Pecunia, I´ll made anything that it needs, anything!

—I need to perform open liver surgery so I can better analyze her imbalance.

Corrum carefully opened the sedated body of the girl, who was still writhing, as if she wanted to fight the sharp knife.

Her insides were like a beautiful feast to Corrum's eyes.

Conscien woke up early that morning; he had lost something very important, his small, lock-shaped necklace with its key. He needed to find it quickly, and his first suspicion fell on Corrum.

That man seemed very eccentric to him, not only because of his black clothing or his arrogant attitude, but also because his glances at his necklace and his strange inventions seemed highly suspicious. While he was able to deceive Chalybe and Tormen, that "skin disease" didn't fool Conscien. He was a learned man and knew that no skin disease required surgery.

He slowly approached the door (despite Corrum's warnings to leave him alone) and opened it.

That creature was hunched over the girl's open abdomen, its red mouth raving over her intestines while its face and hands, smeared with blood, played with the girl's lifeless organs. It was like staring rot in the face.

Corrum looked at Conscien with the eyes of a deer. His feeding had been interrupted. His outburst of desire and hunger had only led him to the lowest depths a being could fall, or so the others believed.

Corrum continued playing while Conscien watched him with disgust and terror.

His stomach regurgitated some of the food, but Corrum, without any shame, ate the delicious meal again.

—You disgusting heretic! — Conscien said as he slowly approached Corrum— You filthy, unnatural creature, you deserve to die!

Corrum rushed forward and ran in front of Conscien, delivering a devastating stab to his stomach.

Conscien writhed on the floor as he watched the putrid monster scurry down the stairs.

As he ran out of the manor, he could feel miles of eyes on him. Scavengers, following him in search of the food they lacked, looked at him with lust.

—Stay away from me, you disgusting creatures!

When he was deep in the forest, he vomited up what little remained of the meal, wincing in pain and rage.

«Damn! Why can't I control myself? Shit, shit, shit! My life, my reputation, are ruined! »

He took the necklace and key in his bloodied hands, and without a second thought, unlocked it.

He dreamed of a world where he could indulge his desires, eat as he pleased, and do as he please. However, the higher beings had other plans.

They took his skin and deformed him. What was once a man had now become a cold-blooded scavenger. His now-glowing eyes gazed at his deformed body with a strange pride. Though his body reflected his mind like crystal-clear water, maybe he could finally satiate his putrid greed.