He withdrew his gleaming bone saw from his bloodstained
bag and calmly began removing the corpse’s hand. It fell to the floor. He put
the saw down and picked up the hand, its smooth, pink skin contrasting sharply
with the bulbous purple flesh that covered his own arm. Once it was back on the
table, he picked up the saw again and began removing the ruins of his own pink hand.
He hissed against the pain shooting through his arm until the final push of the
saw removed the last scrap of bloody flesh connecting the hand to his arm.
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