They lay motionless, the subtle poison he had introduced so eloquently to their drinks having paralyzed their voluntary muscles, leaving them alert, aware, and helpless.
"Ah, the sweet couple," he whispers as he sensuously removes their clothes, fondling their skin with his fingertips, releasing more of their shining skin to the chilled air of the basement. Twin sets of eyes stare at him, glassy fear as he enfolds them into the other's arms, twining clay statues into an unnatural braid.
"Come, now, don't you want to share your love with each other?" he whispers, removing the surgical instruments from their cases, beginning to cut and sew, fusing their bodies in a surgical nightmare.
As the bodies gasped their last breaths, the dim light behind the eyes fading into nothingness, veins and arteries sharing the same blood, intestines hopelessly fused into a maze of flesh, skin stitched together with utmost care, he looks at them sadly, saying "I suppose there's a moral in this."
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