In what seemed to be no time at all, Trevor and Michael arrived at Trevor's trailer.
"I know it isn't what you would call a 'decent place to live', but it's home. I hope it doesn't offend someone so high and mighty as yourself," Trevor said with a sneer. "If it does, well, that's too bad. After all you are a dead man." Trevor let out a chuckle and picked up Michael's corpse bridal style and brought him into his home.
Trevor laid the fat man on his bed and made for the kitchen. Just as he was about to cross the door into his small kitchen Trevor turned around with a jolt and screamed at Michael, expecting some kind of reaction. When he got none he scratched his jaw and went to get two beers from the fridge.
"Hey, Michael. You can keep playing this game for as long as you like but you won't fool me. But as long as you're here, well, have a beer." When Michael didn't take the beer Trevor shrugged it off and drank both.
With a belch, Trevor went for another beer. He was displeased when he found there was only one left. "RON, GET OVER HERE," Trevor yelled.
Ron, knowing better than to test Trevor's good will ran straight over to the neighboring trailor.
"Yes, Trevor?"
"Ron, can you come look at something for me?"
"S-Sure Trevor"
Trevor led Ron over to the fridge and watched him inspect it.
"Do you see anything wrong with this picture?"
"Uhhhhhh... there's mold and something that looks suspiciously like a rotting human arm in there?"
"Noooooo, there's no beer, Ronald."
"Sorry, Trevor. I'll go straight to the store and get some. Just please, don't hurt me." Ron backed away from his "friend" and turned to leave when he saw a man on the bed. "Uhhh, Trevor. Is that a dead man?"
"Here that, Michael? You're good. You can fool Ron, but you can't fool me. Now GO Ron, I don't want to see you back here unless you have two six packs in your arms. Or else."
"Yes, Trevor"
When Ron was gone it was only Trevor and Michael. "I'll show you a dead man, Michael," Trevor whispered to himself. He brought out his special bag, reserved for his most special victims. The contents were also special. With exaggerated care, Trevor took out a bone saw, scalpel, and an assortment of other deadly looking tools.
"Where oh where should I start. I know." Trevor used some shears to cut away Michael's shirt. "Man, you need to lay off the Taco Bomb. That really can't be good for your health."
Trevor picked up a scalpel with malicious intent and held before Michael's face. "Last chance to speak up. Any takers? No? Alright then."
What happened next was what could only be described as horrific. Trevor had managed to soak his bed with a significant amount of blood within the first hour of his bloody surgery. Within the first hour he had peeled the skin off of Michael in long one inch strips. It took quite a while for him to accomplish this task, in some places it was easy because the skin was thicker, but in others the skin was thinner and could easily be torn. That would not do at all. Trevor had the neat pieces of skin hanging on hangers in his small closet. Funny, Trevor thought to himself, how the skin was the biggest organ of the human body, but he was able to fit them all in his closet without so much as a single piece overlapping another. :)
Michael's bloody carcass lay on the mattress, waiting for the next step of Trevor's butchering. The muscles in his body were overcome by fatty tissue in some places. Trevor held Michael's skinless face in his hands, admiring his work. He stared into Michael's lidless eyes and whispered, "You are my best friend, M. You can stop playing now. Talk to me." When no words came out of the corpse yet again, Trevor growled in anger. "I'VE TRIED TO BE NICE MICHAEL. You made me do this. It's your fault. You had this coming to you the day you got Brad killed. I'm done trying to convince you." Trevor held his own face in both hands out of frustration, smearing it with blood. He was done with trying to convince Michael to talk to him. Now he would be focused on his grisly task. He changed into his most precious dress just for the occasion.
The fat layering Michael's body displeased Trevor. So he removed it. It wasn't at all as easy as it seemed in Trevor's mind. The fat would slip out of Trevor's hands and he couldn't get a good grip most of the time so he had to take it slow so none of the muscle underneath would be damaged. He resorted to delicately scraping it off with his scalpel. His stomach, legs, arms, chin, and back were covered in the fat so it was a hard two hours of work.
When all the work was done Trevor gathered all the fat and put it in a large metal pot. He then set it on his stove and set it on low. Trevor made a mental note to himself to stir it occasionally so it wouldn't burn. He would have use of this later and it'd be no good it it were burned.
Trevor ran his hand over Michael's now flawless leg muscles. There wasn't much blood leaking from the body. It was mostly coagulated and jelly-like. As he inspected his work, to his displeasure, Trevor realized that Michael's left eyeball had collapsed into his skull. Trevor poked it with a finger and grunted. His plan was to remove the jelly from both eyes with a small needle then fill them with cement. They were to be Trevor's new stress balls, but now those plans were ruined. The dent in the left eye had left a crease in the cornea and (white part). Normally Trevor wouldn't care about a little damage to his possessions, but this was different, Michael's eyes were special and not to be ruined. Now he'd probably have to cut the eyes akin to how one would transfer a globe of earth to a flat map. He'd get them laminated and keep them nice and fresh.
Next Trevor split the muscles one by one by running a finger over the creases between them. When they were all good and separated, Trevor sliced each and every muscle just below the ligaments holding them in place. It created pleasing steak-like sections of meat. It was dirty business, but it would be worth the effort in the end. Trevor would feed this special meat to the people in Sandy Shores, maybe. Or maybe he'd take a trip to a puppy shelter and watch them chow down on Michael. Maybe Trevor would chow down on the puppies. The thought pleased him and he let out a hardy laugh.
The putrid smell of dead body was pungent through the whole trailer. Trevor's boiled fat was done. He left the room where what was left of Michael's body was and went to turn off the stove. HIs hands left bloody stains on the knob but Trevor didn't notice. Trevor got a cold beer out of the fridge, looks like Ron was here. Trevor hadn't even heard the tiny man come in. It must have been hours ago because Trevor was starving. Well, it was no use working on an empty stomach. With a joyful look on his face, the man got up and walked into the room where Michael lay. There was a special muscle Trevor was looking for. One of a kind, and absolutely delicious. This muscle wouldn't go to any puppies or hicks, Trevor would do the honors himself. When he had located it, he flopped it into his liquid fat, pulled it out, and fried it on low. The fat would bring out the flavor, and slow cooking it would make sure it was nice and juicy with a delicious texture on the outside. Trevor could hardly contain himself, he was impatient to get back to work, so he ate the muscle half raw. It was still delicious.
With all the muscle removed, Michael's body was a ghastly sight. Intestine spilled over on Michael's left side and his internal organs were all visible. the corpse had no eyes and still had cartilage latched on to some parts of the skull. Though Trevor was careful in his work, there was still shreds of muscle hanging from the spine and places around his body.
"I bet you regret trying to deceive your best friend now, eh, buddy," Trevor said with his eyes closed, not expecting a reply. Michael would not talk back because he was hell bent on trying to trick his friend. That was alright, Trevor was use to his silent treatment.
Trevor pulled out a bone saw for his next task but thought better of it. Instead of cutting through the ribcage he would break the bones with his hands one by one. As he did so, one at a time the bone would make a blood-chilling crack. It almost sounded like the shattering of hot glass when it touches something too cold, but louder. With each rib removed, Trevor had gotten closer to Michael's heart. Michael's filthy, betraying heart. Wasting no time, Trevor ripped Michael's heart right out of his chest. The aorta came out mostly intact, but the other tubes weren't as lucky. He held the heart in his hand and thought it was wondrous how the human heart fit so perfectly in the human hand. Trevor squeezed it a little and some clotted blood came out. With a little more effort, some more blood came out, it was a little warm and less clotted. Trevor stuck a finger through a hole and felt around. The spider web-like structures inside tickled his finger. When he pulled his finger out, it was covered in yet more blood.
"I'd say you were pulling on my heart strings, buddy, but I'm obviously pulling on yours," He laughed at his pun and inspected his friend's body. He did a pretty damn good job.
Trevor took out a little box and a knife from his special bag and Michael's heart into the light outside his trailer. A couple outside passed by and saw him standing there. Trevor was bloody from head to toe, his dress was stained and his hair was matted. The couple didn't know whether to laugh at his dress or run away from the deranged man holding what seemed to be a human heart. They did the smart thing and ran for their lives. Trevor didn't notice the couple though, he was busy inspecting his new trophy.
Trevor attempted to smile sweetly, but the expression that came to his face looked more like he was about to sneeze. He took off his dress and was left in his underwear. Trevor cut open his chest down his middle, about halfway down his sternum. When he had two good flaps of skin free the exposed man took a surgical grade needle and thread out of the box and began sewing Michael's heart into the wound. They would now be one.
Trevael entered their trailer and closed the door. The place smelled like a slaughterhouse but they didn't care. They were one. Trevael picked up the pot of fat and brought it into their bedroom. They through the strips of skin into the pot and got them all good and soaked. Then Trevael jumped on to the bed and laid inside the corpse. It was a tight fit, but together they fit their body into the ribcage, ripping the diaphragm and squishing the organs that got in the way. Trevael's head and body parts matched up with the dead man's and they were also one.
At long last Trevael poured the skin strips and fat all over their body. The fat wasn't hot enough to scorch the skin off their body but it was warm enough to be poured easily over everything. When the pot was emptied, Trevael grabbed a skin and layed it over their eyes and fell asleep.
And they slept as one.