Its the inside that counts right? But what if you could change inside.

Designer
hearts, lungs, intestines. Colour coded kidneys. This is the world I live in. External
beauty means nothing anymore, but people still change it. This industrialisation
has destroyed nature, everything is artificial. The Artificial angels patrol the
streets after dark, looking for street surgeons. But they are more devils then
anything. Targeting the weak, the poor. They harvest organs, from those they
find and sell them back to the population. How did it come to this? Well, if you
ask the church, its gods will. If you ask the politicians, its the peoples will. But if
you ask me, its just madness. They found out how to remove scars. And now
everyone is a science experiment.
Before this craze, I was a doctor, a heart surgeon. Saving lives was what I wanted
to do, and for a while I did. Those were the good days. But they have been
labelled the dark days by historians. Now, I am just an over qualified plastic
surgeon. I was forced to swap coronaries, and bypasses, for decorating lungs and
stomachs. Scalpel sluts constantly showing off new and more outlandish
improvements to themselves.
The train rolls past with a thunderous grumble. The sign painted on the door
showing a dolled up girl stretching the skin on her chest to reveal the newest
fashion in organs. Different hair styles, skin colours, eye colours. All swarming
past the long blonde haired girl so out of place in the underground train station.
The noise of the train dying out to be replaced by chatter. Angels walked the
station, silent. The off-white wings on their black jackets, the only indication that
they were more than an average citizen. The blonde girl ducked low and held a
leather bag closer to her stomach and rushed onto the train. The train protested
loudly as it started moving, and the tense look in the blonde girls natural blue
eyes didnt pass.
Warning, warning, street surgeon alert. Passengers have your identification
papers ready and be prepared to show your bags. Angels are instructed to take
anyone suspicious into custody for further questioning. Everyone around her
reached into jackets, purses, bags and pockets to produce papers to prove they
were who they were and unzipping bags to show they held no contraband. The
blonde girl cursed under her breathe and turned to the window, looking for a way
to open it. The chatter died down to be replaced by steel boot tips echoing. The
window slid open and the sound of the train grew louder. She quickly tossed her
leather bag out the window and turned around, as the guards got closer.
A scream pierced the cold artificial dreariness of the trains interior as a man was
dragged into the centre of the floor and stunned with the electric batons carried
by the artificial angels. Their beautiful faces curled in ugly snarls as they swung
down. The smell of burnt flesh wafted around the carriage. The blonde girl
breathed a sigh of relief and then examined the man spasming on the ground.
He was young and she didnt recognise him. Probably new to the trade trying to
make a living. She didnt envy him his fate. Everyone knew the rumours of what
happened to the street surgeons captured. It wasnt pretty. The doors opened
and with echoing clicks and a thud, the street surgeon was dragged off the train.

Silence was the only company everyone in the train had. Surrounded by people,
the angels left everyone feeling alone.
Mag walked down the stairs of the hospital where she worked. The weariness
evident on her face, she had been working all day on boring and vague cosmetic
changes. Sighing she turned down the street and walked under the illuminated
forest of light. She looked around, the roads, empty. Only used by the Angels
machines, cleaning up the dead, and trying to find the elusive street surgeons.
Mag drew her coat closer around herself. Something shiny caught her eye in the
alley and she caught a glimpse of the girl she had worked on today. Naturally
pretty, but insecure. She kept coming in and changing everything. The surgeons
had a word for people like her. Scalpel Sluts .Inside, outside, it didnt matter. Just
so long as they walked out different to the way they walked in. Shaking her head
as she walked past. The tell-tale chink of a silver coin being flipped echoed
through the alley, the shadowy outline of a figure stood over the girl, white teeth
standing out, and the occasional flash of a silver coin spinning through the air.
The streets smelt of urine, filth and decay. The blonde girl furiously walked with
her hands in her pockets. She turned and kicked the rickety door that marked the
entrance to a long abandoned apartment complex. Graffiti marked the walls,
mostly just crudely drawn names and symbols, some insulting, others just
jibberish. The blonde girl ignored this all too familiar sight as she strode up the
stairs. Her door opened without a sound, the off colour outline of the number 42
disappearing as shadows consumed it, only to be illuminated again as the door
closed.
Youre late home today my dear Alyssa. The voice appeared from nowhere. But
Alyssa knew exactly who it belonged to.
Shut up Undertaker. Im not in the best of moods. And really dont want to put
up with your bullshit. He smiled brilliantly and walked into the room, turning on
a dim flickering light. His fedora shadowing half his face. The ribbon shining,
matching the barely visible waistcoat.
And, dare I enquire as to what put you into this mood? Undertaker asked,
leaning slightly on his black and silver cane.
If you must Alyssa snarled. I lost my tools and I really wish I didnt have to
ask this, but I was wondering if you could secure me another set. Ill pay of
course.
Undertakers smile grew larger. Oh, thats terrible, but I guess youre incredibly
lucky. Because guess what I found today. His spotless white gloves reached into
his trench coat and pulled out a leather satchel. I thought I might enquire as to
whether this was yours.
Alyssas jaw dropped. How? When? What? Undertaker moving the cane to lean
against his leg and fixing up his coat just smiled. After composing herself she
stared at him. I lost them under an hour ago and basically rushed straight
here.
Undertaker taped his barely visible nose. I know. I need a favour.
Alyssa gulped, undertaker didnt ask favours lightly. And they usually ended up
with the surgeon he asked it of getting captured. Tell me first. And if I dont

accept it, I wont get my tools back will i?

My dear, you always were quick witted. But alas, you are correct. In return for
your tools, I want you to look after someone. With your...skills, it should be a
snap. He snapped his fingers to enforce this. Now, tell me, do we have an
agreement?
Alyssa stared, this was unusual, he never cares about people. Why was she so
special? You have a deal, now give me my bloody tools and bring her here.
What was he hiding.
Excellent. She is in bed. I took the liberty. Since I assumed you would agree.
Also please dont let her die, it would be rather unfortunate for all involved.
Tossing her tools to her, he walked out of the room to the front door before
turning around. Goodbye darling, I swear I will return. With a bow, he closed
the door behind him. Alyssa breathed a sigh of relief and checked her tools.
Mag opened the door to her room. The television flashing silently, the same ad
that is usually played during every brake. Its quick, and clean. Its pure and fine.
Its all you need. To perfect inside. It was ironic Mag thought to herself. Its the
opposite to the truth. Its not quick, its not clean, its not pure, nor to her was it
fine. And it definitely wasnt necessary. She opened her purse and went to pull
out a smoke. She pulled one out and then went looking for her wallet. The
breathe tightened in her throat. She had left it at the office. It had her practising
licence on her. If she runs into the artificial angels she would be taken away.
Rushing out the door without even bothering to lock the door.
Running down the street, a dark shadow appeared in front of her. Mag skidded to
a stop and almost fell fast first onto the cold unforgiving concrete of the
pavement. Well, well darlin, you seem in a mighty rush. The unnaturally
beautiful face with glowing eyes looked down on her. Isnt that right Dax?
Mag felt more then saw another pair of eyes staring at her back. Yes, thats right
Matt. What on earth could cause a little lady like you to run like that? Dax
walked around to stand next to Matt. Mags heart sank as she noticed the off
white wings on their jackets.
Perhaps she is running to see her dear old grandmother down in the middle of
the forest. Matt suggested before both of them broke out into howls of laughter.
No, Im back to work, now if you wouldnt mind moving out of my way I will be
on my way. Mag said with shaky determination.
No, I dont think that will happen. Dax said with a wicked smile
Yes, darlin your under arrest as a suspected street surgeon. Matt moved his
face closer to mag until she could smell rotting meat and booze on his breathe.
And fraid that means you are to come with us. Unless, of course. We can come
to some sort of agreement.
Mags heart sank. This couldnt be happening. The tingle of silver rolling and
bouncing on uneven cement filled the brief moment that to mag felt like an
eternity. Mag looked down and saw a coin hit Daxs boot. The fuck? Dax said
looking down.
My sincerest apologise boys, but I seem to have dropped my lucky coin. Any
idea where it went? Said a voice from the shadows. As he approached she

noticed the unusual way he dressed. With a black fedora covering his eyes, a
ribbon tied around the base of it, matching his waist coat. A black cane in one
hand, and unusually white gloves, a long black leather jacket with silver interior
covered most of his frame. I trust Im not disturbing anything?
A look of unexpected fury crossed Daxs face. Who the hell do you think you
are?
Who me? the mans voice contained practised surprised Im just your average
citizen, trying to do his good deed for the day?
And what the hell would that deed be? matt broke in. Kicking the cane out from
under him. Mag knew she should run but something inside her told her to stay.
The cane clattered to the ground, but before it stopped clattering, Matt was on
the ground, clutching at his face. A single drop of blood rolled down the mans
cheek, as he shook his hand.
Dax looked at the ground. Who the fuck do you think you are? he screamed.
Nobody ever goes against the Angels. NOBODY rushing towards the man, but
he moved, and slapped him hard in the back of the neck. Dax fell to the ground
hard and lay there unmoving.
Ah! There it is! the man said walking over to the coin on the ground. As he
picked it up he said Im sorry you had to witness such brutality my dear. Youre
not hurt I trust?
Yeah, Im fine. After a moments pause, mag looked closer at him and asked.
Who are you?
All in due time. First would you kindly pass me my cane please? Im not as
young as I used to be. And thats when mag noticed his limp. Without a
moments hesitation, she reached down and picked up the black polished wood.
Where did you get this? The last trees died out more than 30 years ago? mag
asked curiously turning it over in her hands. There was an engraving on the grip.
Vetus est Moriendi, Planto via pro novus orsa.
He smiled. Oh that old thing? It was my fathers. Its sort of an heirloom passed
to the son who followed the families business.
mag passed it back to him Whats the engraving mean?
Nothing special really, just my families motto. Thank you kindly. I know its not
much but would you allow an old gentleman the pleasure to escort a beautiful
young lady to where she are heading? The streets are perilous than they used to
be. The man said offering his arm.
You really dont look that old. But that would be fantastic thank you. And
thanks a lot for your help back there. What should I call my new hero? Mag
enquired taking his arm.
Oh, such compliments from a sweet young girl. My friends call me undertaker.
Now where was it you said you were you heading? the light above them
flickered as they passed under it as a low groan emitted from one of the fallen
angels throats.
Alyssa groaned as she watched the young woman toss and turn in her bed. The
girl was suffering from a well-known and wide spread condition known as surgery
shock. It was usually fatal. So she couldnt see how she was supposed to do
anything about it. But she had to try. Throwing back the sheets Alyssa turned and

pulled a scalpel and some bright green liquid from her leather satchel. Injecting it
into the system, she watched the faint green glow travel through the veins
before slowly dissipating.
Undertaker walked down the street, his cane tapping softly with each step. He
had dropped Alyssa off about 5 minutes before. He smiled to himself, everything
was coming along nicely. All he needed was one more thing. Upon arriving home
he noticed he had left his record player on, the words echoing around the room.
Chromaggia, Chromaggia,
Perch non affronti il pericolo?
La freccia era legata all'ala,
E lei volva per liberarsene,

Chuckling, how fitting it was to life, he thought to himself. His own little
Chromaggias not realising the truth.
Sweat dripped from Alyssas forehead and into her eyes, but she paid no heed to
it. She was moving with acute precision. Cutting, slicing, draining, stitching,
joining. All the while adding the drugs to designed to prevent this condition into
her blood stream. You better survive this shit is expensive! she said angrily. But
she kept up with the pattern. Cutting, slicing, draining, stitching, joining. Until
many hours later she had done all she could do. Stitching the skin back up and
applying the anti-scarring solution to the stitches. She took her final needle out,
and watched the veins glow red as the serum continued to course through her
body, cancelling out the anaesthetic. Leaving her tools out on the bedside table,
Alyssa stumbled out into the lounge room and fell asleep before she landed on
the couch.
Rachael sat up with a start as she opened her eyes and took in the unfamiliar
surroundings of an unfamiliar bedroom. Looking around she saw the slightly
bloodied water and clean surgical tools on the bedside table. Her head swam and
she felt nauseous. She quickly searched her body for fresh cuts. Her fingers ran
over slightly bumpy and tender flesh, and she screamed.
The walk to work was the same as usual. Nobody around, cold dead breeze
smelling of the sickly sweet scent of rot. She barely noticed the area where she
was almost assaulted as she hummed happily down the street. The bodies of the
Angels who were there the night before had been removed earlier in the night
and the street had been scrubbed clean. She approached her workplace without
the usual animosity and hesitation she usually had, but was looking forward to it.
Undertaker was going to visit today, she thought to herself, and rushed up the
stairs.
Alyssa was rudely awoken by a harsh and piercing scream. She almost jumped
out of her skin and grabbed the scalpel on the table to protect herself. Memories
came flooding back like a dam breaking. Cutting, slicing, draining, stitching,
joining. And the Scalpel slut in her bed. That explained the scream. She sighed
and put the scalpel down. She walked up to the room and knocked on the door. I
take it your back to your normal self then she said through the door.

The thrashing stopped and a weak and scared voice barely penetrating the door
replied. Wh-wh-who are you?
I'm a friend not by choice she said silently. You were having a fit of surgery
shock. You were brought here by a fairly odd man. I dont know why, would you
mind telling me?
The door slowly opened and a face streaked with tears appeared in the crack.
Im Rachael. Who are you?
My name is Ruby Alyssa lied using her street name. Pleased to meet you.
She added with a slight smile
I dont know what happened. The last thing I remember was going to get a
different design on my stomach wall. Then waking up here. Her voice was weak
and Alyssa wondered what she should do. There was a brief rasp on the door
interrupting them.
Sorry I will have to get that. Alyssa said excusing herself as she walked to the
door. She glanced through the peep hole and instantly recognised the person
who was knocking on her chamber door.
The door swung open without a sound, and Undertakers smiling face stood facing
her. Hello my dearest, how is the patient this fine day?
Alyssa scowled. When you brought her here she was almost dead. You do realise
that.
Of course. Why do you think I brought her to you?
Well, because youre an asshole who delights in the pain and suffering of
others.
Oh, come now, you know thats not true darling. I'm merely being a good
person. Which is a change in this city I do believe.
What do you want? Alyssa said impatiently.
To engage in idle chitchat for a while with a beautiful young lady. Said
Undertaker with a slight bow.
Stop with the bullshit.
No. Did you save her?
Whats it to you? Alyssa said furiously
I brought her here, or did you forget that little fact?
No I didnt forget. She is fine, you were lucky.
No, you were lucky Undertaker interrupted. But I am glad you saved her. Ill
pay for the drugs you used. Subsequently, here you go Undertaker smiled as he
pulled a bag from his jacket. Alyssa opened the bag and inside was a bit more of
the substances then she used. But as she looked up, undertaker was gone. She
slowly closed the door and returned to Rachael.
Mag washed her hands at the cold dull and slightly stained aluminium sink in the
corner of the operating room. Her patient still sat in the chair, and it would still
be half an hour before he would be composed enough to walk out of the building.
There was a knock on the door. Mag, you have a visitor. Mags heart skipped a
beat as she quickly rushed out of the room, almost transparent blood drops still
dripping from her fingers. Undertaker sat in his chair, his jacket was hanging over
the back of it revealing a long sleeved grey shirt under his waist coat.
Hello Mignonnette, I hope you dont mind me making myself at home. His face

was still shadowed by his fedora as he smiled up at her.

Not at all. Its nice to see you again Mag relied and sat in the lower patients
chair. She examined him a bit closer in the tense moment of silence. His shirt
and waist coat had faint brownish blood stains up the arms, on the chest and
across his heart. Mag wondered what he actually did, aside from being charming
and a good person.
How are you dearest? Undertaker asked casually, as he examined his pure
white gloves.
Im fine, and yourself?
Im actually fantastic thank you for asking Signorina.
Undertaker, may I ask you a question?
Of course darling, whats on your mind?
I was just wondering, what do you do? Where did you get the blood stains on
your shirt? Who are you?
Undertaker grinned and looked at her for the first time. His bright violet eyes
sparkling, he had stress wrinkles. Despite this Mag still found him attractive. Do
you really wish to talk about such things?
We dont have too, Id just like to know a bit more about you.
Very well. Im in the business of he paused to consider his answer.
Recyclingthats where I got these blood stains.
What sort of recycling?
Undertaker touched his nose and replied with a chuckle, I surely have the right
to keep a small shroud of enigma?
Mag flushed I'm sorry Im being nosey.
Its quite alright, my dear. Now as for your final question. I am nothing more
than who I am, and do not pretend to be more than what I can be.
Rachael sat in bed. Her mind abuzz with thoughts. Why me? What makes me
different to everyone else? What did I do to deserve this? What do I do now?
Who brought me here? These thoughts and questions just rebounded through
her head. But she kept coming up with no answers. Just the same question
phrased in different ways. She sighed and shifted onto her side. Ruby wont let
me leave until she deems me fit to leave. Rachael sighed, but sleep just
wouldnt come.
Alyssa sat down, swirling the brown liquid in her small glass. The robust odour of
the drink wafting around the small room. Alyssa shuddered as she drank more.
The bitter taste almost making her gag when it touched her tongue. A half empty
bottle sat on the table. Throwing what was left in the glass down her throat, she
refilled her glass. Why did Undertaker do this to her? She was by no means the
best surgeon in the world. She took another mouthful and slammed the glass
onto the small table at her feet with a high pitched chink. The curtains flowed in
and out, carried by wind flowing through barred windows. Alyssa shuddered,
Undertaker gave her the creeps, and yet she is currently doing his bidding. It
sickened her almost as much as surgery.
Mag made sure she had her wallet today before she left the office. Undertakers
visit had been brief but pleasurable. But she had gained basically nothing from

her questioning. How did recycling and bloodstains connect? She asked herself.
And who was he. Would she ever find out? Mag doubted it, but that was half the
fun wasnt it? She asked herself as she opened the front door. Her television was
off, which was unusual considering she left it on all the time. She flicked a light
on, a hand came over her face, and the world dimmed and surrendered to black.
Rachael sat at the table across from Alyssa, the table was covered in dull bowls
filled with very little food. Rachael helped herself to everything and noticed that
Alyssa was scarcely eating. So, what did you do to me while I was under?
Rachael asked with a mouth half full of food.
Just put a drug into your bloodstream so that it would get rid of the shock
quicker. But it only works if its evenly distributed around your system, so
injections never work. Mag said without much expression.
so you saved my life? Rachael asked
Thats one way of putting it I guess.
But why?
I didnt do it out of the goodness of my heart. If thats what youre wondering
Then why?
I owed a favour to someone.
Will I get to meet him?
Alyssas face changed. You havent met him?! she almost screamed.
Noshould I have?
I dont know Both Alyssa and Rachael from that point on ate in silence. Each
pondering their own mysteries.
Mag awoke in the middle of a dark room illuminated only by a hanging light.
Swing, swing, there was a slight breeze which was making the light swing
slightly. Mag looked around panicked, as she noticed the familiar figure of
undertaker. Where am I?
Safe came the reply of undertaker.
But where the voice conveyed more fear then she wanted but there was
nothing she could do. Her legs and arms were bound.
Would you like some food darling? Undertaker asked watching her intently.
Y-yes I would, thank you Undertaker slipped from the room and returned within
a few moments with two steaming plates of unidentifiable food. Placing them on
the table and proceeding to untie the bonds on her arms but not legs.
Bon appetite Undertaker said placing silver cutlery on either side of her plate
and then sat down opposite her.
After taking a few bites, mag looked at him, eating with the finest manners,
white gloves almost glowing in the still slightly swinging light. This is good. She
said as she slowly put another fork full into her mouth.
Yeah, unfortunately the main ingredients quality has decreased in the last few
years. He replied with a sigh.
What is the main ingredient? Mag asked curiously.
Soylent green Undertaker replied keeping his eyes on her to see if her
expression changed at all.

Oh, never heard of it, but its still very tasty.

Its some sort of plankton I believe. Under taker finished his meal and removed
himself to the other room where the clank and rattle of china could be heard.