Thursday, October 31, 2013


This story was written for agent Bree Ogden's Halloween week 2 contest. I hope you enjoy my creation.


January 21st
My old friend Lucifer stopped by a month ago complaining about how nobody likes him anymore. After five hours of constant whining, he called in the favor I owed him. While I do owe my genius in creation to him, I feel what he is asking from me will end badly. But still I agreed to the terms, so I have gathered the required ingredients. Nobody can ever say that Dr. Lee Spencer isn’t a man of his word.
1tsp sweat from pop star donor
500 strands of hair from the same donor
Skin from a fresh corpse (Flawless complexion only.)
4 pints of blood taken from sweat donor
* All ingredients from pop star must be taken when donor is—erm—not awake.
Process and results:
After stitching the new skin onto his body, I mixed the blood and sweat together before injecting it into his bloodstream. Once the hair was sewn into place, Lucifer awoke and immediately dawned a meat dress.
Our first try was a fail.


February 19th
I acquired ingredients from a new donor and repeated my previous steps. Lucifer awoke and started spitting on everyone. After only being able to say swag, he tried to kill me before I put him to sleep.
We will try again.


March 2nd
After adjusting the mixture to 2 pints of blood and a half teaspoon of sweat from a third donor, we gave it another try. It was deemed a failure after Lucifer refused to talk without a track to lip-sync to. Also the head shaving didn’t help. I don’t even want to remember the flashing of his newfound—lady part. Once the crying began after I took away his umbrella, we agreed to try again.


April 26th
Our last try. Everything was halved from the original recipe and the Lucifame monster was born. My debt has been paid. I do not wish to see him again. Not after watching him twerking his was to Georgia with his tongue out. In fact, I’m through with creation. He’s gained admirers which means I have truly failed. Creating him has ruined me. This is my last report. I can’t—.

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