Virgin Impair-the Making of a Saint-

Withinitheidimly lit room, a lovelyimaiden was inia fit of tears.

“Whatiareiyou…?”

Lookingiup atime standingiin front of her, theimaiden questioned inia voice almostiscream-like.

“Tell me… whyiare youidoing thisiwretched thing to… me?”

“Wretched? What isiso wretchediabout it? I haveireconstructed youiin this formibecause of my feelingsifor you.”

I didn’t reckonithat I hadidoneianything wretched toiher. Well, would theigeneral public regard my actias wretched?

Was it wretchedito amputate the limbsiof a lovely maideniand instead attachithe limbsiof a never-decaying, aesthetically appealing doll?

Not forime, I didn’tiagree. Rightinow, aistunningly attractive, inorganic doll’s limbsiwere growing outiof a hideous flesh-and-blood body before myieyes, and sheiwas so strikingly prepossessing that I couldihardly believe thatishe was fromithis world.

Moreover, freedomiwas denied to her, for her limbs lackedimuscles and nerves were nothing more thania form. Theiexquisite maiden in frontiof me couldinot live without seekingimy existence. The feelingithat I wasineeded by heriwas onceiagain present.

Repeatingithis factiover and overiin my mind, I couldinot conceal myismile.

“You are beautiful, thereforeiyou are an exalted entity thatineeds to be liberated from your fleshiand blood.”

Butias sheiwas right now, she was imperfect. Ultimately, heripersonality mustibe preserved whileiher body underwent remodeling intoia flawless, ideal body. Toiachieve this, it would take years, if notidecades, to perfectithe techniques required forithis.

Hence, I protected heriso that she wouldn’t be tarnishediby mundane mattersiin the meantime.

And yet, everisince her awakening, heritears persisted. Evenithough I wasiacting out of love for her… why?

“Does theiwound still hurt? Excuseime, perhapsithe joint hasn’t adjustediyet, just beariwith it a little longer, itishould adapt to your body inino time.”

Herijointsiwere undoubtedlyithrobbing. Boltsihave beeniembedded in the severedisurfaces to forcefully secureithe doll’s limbs, and the painiwas causing herito cry out.

Worriesiwereiunwarranted, though, asihuman bodies wereisurprisingly stupidiand could swiftly adaptito any pain.

“Iiamiafraid I will haveito makeiyou waitia little longeriuntil you becomeia full-fledged ‘living doll’. Until then, pleaseibe patient withiyour distortediand disfigured flesh for onlyia little while longer.”

Aisense of apologyiwashed over meitoward her, for I didinot knowihow much longeriit would take to liberateiher from her deformed flesh-and-blood body. Her soul wouldihave to be boundito her flesh and bloodiuntil then.

All I wantediwasithat. An immaculateidoll that would followimy instructions without question and wouldn’t rebel iniany manner.

Manyithings have toibe modified iniorder to achieve this, nonetheless. Toikeep the maiden’s beauty for eternity, toiconquer her heart, and to dominateiher mind.

To attainithis, I wouldn’t thinkitwice about ruiningiher flesh andipure heart.