He looked at his new patient, a pretty young girl around her mid twenties. Her golden hair was pinned up away from her porcelain doll like face. She had come to him knowing that he was one of the doctors that charged less for plastic surgery, the young doctor who would fulfill her desire to be beautiful. He replayed their meeting in his head listening to her words over and over again, “Doctor I want your best treatment. I want you to fix my face, stomach, and legs,” she said. He had listened to her rant on about how she wanted it done and when. As he replayed this, he lifted up the gleaming scalpel and looked at his patient, another naive patient who thinks that surgery will improve their beauty. The price of perfection for blood. He took the blade and drove it into her face. He began to slowly peel the flesh off of the bone and place the pieces of skin he didn’t need aside. He hummed a friendly tune as he watched blood pour from the entries he made. He then went to her nose and pushed the blade into the skin, the sound of the flesh ripping open was music to his ears. He took the metal tray full of chunks of flesh and blood and dumped it into a bucket beside the operating bed. He looked at her face, chunks of flesh missing, bone showing, and blood seeping from the wounds, her once snow white face now crimson. He then went to her stomach and made and incision in her side and stuck his hand in. He then began to take chunks of fat and flesh out, blood poured from the entry and the sound of the flesh and fat hitting the bucket echoed throughout the room. He then looked down at her legs and made incisions on them as well. He then ripped open the flesh with his bare hands exposing the bone. He took his fingers and drove them into the fat and grabbed chunks of it out. The fat and blood from his gloves seeped through his fingers, he looked to it and then let it slide off his hand into the bucket, letting the fat splattered upon the flesh and blood in the bucket. He then looked to his patient, to him this was beauty. The blood all through her Blondie hair and her once beautiful delicate face now massacred and covered with blood. He took a surgical needle and thread and started stitching up the entries. He watched the needle and thread go in and out of flesh and watched as the entries closed. For each entry he did the same thing, and when he was done he smiled through his mask. The floor around him drenched with blood and small fragments of flesh and fat. He looked to her and smiled, “For being such a good patient I’ll throw in something extra, just for you,” he said smirking.
The woman awoke a few hours later, the room was lighted by a small lamp. Everything was hazy to her vision. “Ah you’re awake,” the doctor said smiling a friendly smile, his short dark hair matched perfectly with his eyes. She was about to speak and he raised his hand to her in a pleasant gesture. “Don’t speak yet you have not seen the results yet,” he said and grabbed a mirror and smiled. She looked ecstatic and then her eyes widened to the massacre her face now was and to see her lips sown together. She let out a blood curdling scream as the stitches ripped off her lips peeling off skin with them and blood dripped down her face, the body that was once a dream now a nightmare….such is the price of beauty.