Waiting within the doctor’s diabolically well-equipped abattoir with her wrists secured in tight-fitting steel restraints, Veronica felt a delightful sensation of terrifying suspense at the thought of what would happen when the doctor returns. When she’d contacted him, she’d mentioned fantasizing about being disemboweled, to die screaming in agony, helplessly watching as her blood and entrails spilled into a waiting bucket.

Veronica looked around at all the unspeakable instruments of torturous death arrayed around her, staring in growing horror at the tables and trays filled with knives, surgical instruments, even a small electric chainsaw. Ominously gruesome, bloodstained buckets were waiting to catch her mutilated guts as she dies for the doctor’s sadistic amusement. While beyond it all, the video cameras sat, ready to record every unspeakable thing destined to happen in his abattoir tonight for the viewing pleasure of his live streaming video audience.

Putting on his bloodstained green rubber apron, boots, and mask, the doctor paused, switching on the cameras, enabling the live video feed for his abattoir before he went back to deal with Veronica. She was expecting a knife into her guts, a sudden, painful slice downward toward her crotch, followed by her gut’s spilling into the waiting bucket. So naive, yet so trusting, Veronica was just another serial killer groupie, looking for her thirty minutes of fatal fame, and he fully intended to give it to her. Of course, not quite in the same way as she expects.

Returning to the abattoir, the doctor strapped a black silicone ballgag deep within Veronica’s mouth. Then kneeling, he eased her legs apart, securing Veronica’s ankles within the restraints. Then, walking over to the table, he paused for a moment before picking up the chainsaw. Turning back toward Veronica, he smiled beneath his surgical mask at the anticipated look of pure horror visible in her lovely eyes. She’d expected to see one of the bloodstained buckets, not the sight of that chainsaw in his black latex-gloved hands.

Desperately struggling against the restraints, as the doctor came toward me, I fought to escape the fate he intended to do to me. This development was so unexpected. In the last two years, I’ve watched him butcher over fifty women. Some of his victims, murdered on the abattoir’s large steel table, others like me, died chained helplessly to this wall. Not once had I seen him using that chainsaw. I’d thought it was fake, merely a prop to enhance the scene’s dark mood.

Lowering the saw, he carefully placed the blade high between my thighs and switched it on. I had one terrifying instant to realize my horrifyingly torturous error before that chainsaw’s sharp spinning blade reached my crotch.

The doctor laughed at the sound of Veronica’s ballgag muffled screams of overwhelming agony as the chainsaw cut through Veronica’s lower abdomen, its sharp blade finally slicing through her pelvis, allowing the saw to slide upward, bisecting her belly.

Once it reached the top of Veronica’s pelvis, the chainsaws pace quickened, taking less than thirty seconds before its blade encountered the underside of her ribcage. Switching off the saw, the doctor roughly pulled its gore-covered blade out of the bloody remains of her ruined abdomen. As he watched, Veronica finally lost consciousness and quickly bled to death.

Veronica’s blood and gore had sprayed everywhere as he’d brutally mutilated her dying body with that chainsaw. Stepping back and staring at the mess, the doctor slowly lost his smile as he recalled the real reason he’d stopped using that delightfully gruesome chainsaw several years earlier. It always left an obscenely bloody mess that usually takes days to clean up...