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    White Skulls
    White Skulls
    White Skulls
    Ebook27 pages20 minutes

    White Skulls

    By Billie Sue Mosiman

    ()

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    About this ebook

    A story of horror, 5360 words.

    Some jobs are so dangerous they become your obsession. They become your life.

    He flensed skulls for a living, cleaning skeletons for public sale to universities, medical schools, and...collectors. The skulls, with the faces gone, the flesh, the personality, turned into objects of exceptional beauty.

    He wanted one. Just one...

    Billie Sue Mosiman is the Edgar and Stoker nominated author of more than 50 ebooks.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDM Publishing
    Release dateJul 2, 2013
    ISBN9781513081328
    White Skulls
    Author

    Billie Sue Mosiman

    Billie Sue Mosiman published 13 novels with New York major publishers and recently published BANISHED, her latest novel. She was nominated for the Edgar Award and was a finalist for the Bram Stoker Award, both for her novels. Since 2011 she's had more than 50 e-books made available on online bookstores. She’s the author of at least 150 published short stories that were in various magazines and anthologies. Her latest stories will be in BETTER WEIRD edited by Paul F. Olson from Cemetery Dance, a tribute anthology to David Silva, a story in the anthology ALLEGORIES OF THE TAROT edited by Annetta Ribken, and another story in William Cook’s FRESH FEAR. She’s an active member of HWA and International Thriller Writers. Blog: http://www.peculiarwriter.blogspot.com Twitter: @billiemosiman Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/billie.s.mosiman Youtube Channel: http://www.youtube.com/user/texasdolly47 Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Billie-Sue-Mosiman

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      Book preview

      White Skulls - Billie Sue Mosiman

      The scalpel, a spear of flickering silver, sliced up beneath the skin of the jaw all the way to the cheekbone. Sawing right, then left, it slipped, releasing flesh from bone.

      The head, technically not yet a skull, was that of a man in his fifties. Muscles from his neck hung down out of the head's cavity, red and dark blue as exotic snakes. The cadaver's head possessed ears elephant large, nostrils wide and hairy, and flat planes of beige cheeks bleached down to almost alabaster. His matted eyelashes were black as streaks of soot against his face.

      Boris thought of Sheila, her lashes black too, long and stiff with mascara, her eyes brown, her lips pomegranate even without lipstick. She wouldn't like it when she discovered what he did for a living. She'd hate him for it. They all did. He had lost five girlfriends already.

      Keirnan, how's your wife take to you wiping skulls? Their job was really flensing skulls, but none of them called it that among themselves.

      Keirnan worked next to him at the long white table with the ridged funnels for catching the bits and pieces. At an identical table behind them worked three others, George, Barry, and Thomas, but they usually didn't talk. Only Keirnan would talk while working.

      She cries herself to sleep most nights, Keirnan said.

      Boris nodded his head, knowing that was no doubt the truth. What woman wouldn't? If they stayed with a flenser long enough to sleep with him, it didn't surprise him at all they cried. Women, it seemed to him, were so sentimental about death.

      You had this job when you met her?

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