Whymsical has a minion!

Spleen the Whyn

Not completely original,
but that's not what really matters, right?
After all,
that Romeo fellow was dead already...
and so was his lover,
so why let a perfectly good heart
go to waste...

A stitch here
a stitch there,
really stitches everywhere,
but soon enough, a new man am I
sewn together like a quilt...

A quilt made of dead people...

But yes, a quilt.

Good sir,
kind, living sir,
May I ask a favor of you?
For you see, my kidneys
good sir,
are a bit old
and I was wondering--
Oh good sir, do not turn away so quickly,
I would dare not take them before you had died
of natural causes, of course
of course,
But if you had no other plans for those kidneys,
Well...
I would be most willing to take them off your hands...

Oh well, he turns away now,
But in the end
It is still I who decides
where his organs shall go...

And I find those kidneys to be absolutely lovely.

Oh, and dear
lovely, lovely girl,
those eyes of yours...
they tantalize me,
they tease me,
they excite me...
Would you happen to have plans
for those gorgeous eyes,
in say,
oh,
I don't know,
Fifty years, or so?
You look young and healthy
so maybe closer to sixty years?
I would pray you die sooner
so I would have them in better condition...
But I wouldn't expect that--
Oh, don't run away,
I don't bite.

But I do cut a bit...

Made on a Whym and so rightfully named,
for now I live this
existence
based on whims of fancy
and delight.
So whatever I may see before me
which does so stimulate my senses
to the point of making desire into necessity,
I must admit
I will lack self-control.
Especially when it comes to the organs that I do procure
from the recently deceased.

But if I did not take them,
they would go to waste
and,
well,
I do hate to be wasteful...

The word ‘language’ is derived from the French word, ‘langue’, meaning tongue.

“Mmmm...I don’t recall where I got my tongue or how long I have had it...that’s peculiar. I am usually well adept at remembering such important information.”
A blood red pen twirled between rotted, gloved fingers as there was a pause in the cursive writing. The rotting creature that owned them sat in a wooden rolling chair, leaning back so as to prop his booted feet up on the antique desk in his study. There was a pad of paper on the desk which he had been scribbling out some thoughts onto. Aside from the paper, the only other item on the desk was a typewriter that had seen so much use that the letters were worn off the keys.
“My tongue...goodness, could it really be that old?” he muttered smoothly to himself and his furry companion that was sitting in his lap. The whyn, his pet named Spleen, mewed softly and stretched. She had been curled tightly in a ball, sleeping from boredom, and her owner was stroking her fur lightly with his free hand. “Mmhmm, that’s true Spleen. What matters is that is still works fine...but I think I will look for a new one soon. I’m sure some youthful soul will be rolled in here soon with the perfect new tongue for me!”
A moment later and there was a ringing coming from the gate to the front drive. Someone was entering. Three rings: that meant a new shipment.
“Ooooo speak of the devil and he shall appear. Sounds like we have some new work...I hope this one is more entertaining than the last. That old demi that died of heart attack was so boring to embalm.”
With a flip of his wrist the pen was sent into the air and landed square on the pad of paper. Too easy.
Spleen mewed again and jumped off his lap. Her tail swayed happily with excitement at the idea of a new body coming into the funeral home. She enjoyed the embalming process just as much as her owner...and that was how she had gotten her name. Her owner once tossed an awfully damaged spleen onto the ground, and the whyn had gone right to batting at it and playing with it like a mouse. She was so enthused that her owner gave her the name of her favorite organ. Spleen.
The dark, sheeta creature stood and stretched his arms up. There was a subtle tearing sound coming from his chest and he rolled his eyes. “And I need to look for some better chest skin...these rotted patches are beginning to disintegrate!” He pulled open the wide collar of his undershirt and looked at the stitched green patches on his usually grey skin. They definitely were past their expiration date.
He ran his gloved hand though his black and red hair and adjusted his top hat. He then grabbed his cane, which was propped against the desk, and put on some tinted glasses to hide his nightmarish eyes.
The doorbell rang.
And Spleen mewed with excitement.
“Time for another dead body to enter my modest home.”
--------------------------------------

No living from here forth do reside.
“What a creepy sign to have at the front gate! I hate these morgue runs...” muttered Matty the celinox as he drove the ambulance past the front gate of the graveyard and up the long drive to the creepy 18th century home that guarded the cold graves.
“They aren’t too bad...though I don’t like this place. I never get this scared on one of these...” his archan partner, Andrew, replied as he looked out the front and side windows to observe the area. It was like any other graveyard...yet it felt a heck of a lot more eerie than any of the others he had ever visited.
“This is your first trip to this place, ain’t it?”
“Sure is,” replied Andrew again as they turned onto a separate road that led to the house.
“Then you haven’t seen the worst yet. Guy who owns this place is far worse than the grounds.”
The ambulance was stopped right before the front porch.
“Don’t we go around to the back?”
“This ain’t a normal morgue run, my friend. We gotta take the bodies through the house’s main hall to the back room.”
“Woah, creepy.”
The two ambulance drivers reluctantly climbed out of the front and walked around to the back of the vehicle. There were two bagged bodies inside, each on their own stretcher. They pulled the first one out and then wheeled it up to the front door. With a simple push of the door bell, a low bell rung.
It sounded like a death toll.
“Here’s a tip, Drew. Don’t look this guy in the eyes. He’ll stare straight into your soul.”
“Gotchya, Matty. You’re the experienced one here.”
“Darn straight.”
There was a knocking sound of a cane hitting a wooden floor. It slowly drew closer to the oak door until it finally was opened wide enough for them to see the caretaker. The creature was dressed in a fine jacket and slacks, but with a torn shirt under it. There was a bag of tools tied around his waist, gloves on his hands, and the cane firmly in his left hand to adjust for his slight limp. But the most stunning features of all were the bright red necklace around his neck that looked like a drop of blood.
The other feature: eyes so dark that with the glasses on, it seemed like he didn’t have any at all.
“Welcome to Whymsical’s Funeral Home. Another delivery, I see?” came the smooth voice with a slight British accent.
“Hello Whym, got two more for you. This here is an older guy who died in an accident. Pretty bad from what I hear. The other is a sweet young woman who died of chocking. Real shame there. Anyway, shall I put them in the normal places?” Matty spoke quickly and precisely, staring at the bagged corpse rather than looking at the man he was speaking to.
Andrew took note and stared at the bag as well, glancing at the creature out of the corner of his eye.
“Ah, I see. Interesting...” commented the creature now acknowledged as Whymsical. He grabbed a folder off of the side of the gurney and flipped through it. Without looking up, he added, “I see you have a new partner, Matty. What happened to Katy?”
“This here is Andrew. I’m training him while Katy is off helping another route.”
It was a blatant lie. Katy just hated going to Whym’s place. She hated how Whym stared at her like she was a piece of meat.
“I see,” was all Whym commented in return as he placed the folder back on the stretcher. “Go ahead and take this one back. Put the other young lass in the cooler. You know your way around and I trust you. And keep your trainee in check.”
Matty nodded and Andrew followed suit mechanically. Soon they were pushing the gurney down the hall, Whym still standing at the door and watching them walk away. Spleen was at his feet, eyes also glued on the two ambulance drivers.
“You were right.” Andrew muttered under his breath softly once they were out of ear-shot.
“Creeeeeeepy.”
--------------------------------------

Can you get to the spleen already?!
Whym was already elbow deep in the first corpse and Spleen was eagerly pacing back and forth on the floor. She was waiting for Whym to give her what she wanted. She’d heard him read ‘cremation’ aloud from the chart, so she knew that meant she got to play with more organs. Whym always let her have fun with whatever ones he wasn’t planning on keeping for himself, and her tail was flipping wildly.
This corpse was already pretty tore up from whatever accident he had been in...but she was still hoping that the inside was okay.
She was a twisted little whyn. She didn’t eat the organs. Neither did her owner. No, he used them to replace his own aging parts. She didn’t know what he was, but she didn’t care. He was sweet to her. He gave her what she wanted.
He gave her fun new toys to play with.
What fun is it to bat around a fake mouse?
And playing with a real mouse was just cruel.
But pushing around and attacking an organ that would squish whenever you hit it just right?
THAT was bliss.
Spleen mewed impatiently and she heard her owner chuckle. Finally, he obliged her desires and tossed down a kidney.
“Sorry beautiful, but the spleen is rather messy. Let me patch it up for you before you play with it,” her owner commented as he pulled out some pile of flesh, his latex gloves that reached his shoulder were bloody from the elbow down, and his apron was stained as well. He was holding the flesh delicately in his hand. He reached over into a metal tray shelving unit that he had on wheels. He swiftly pulled out a needle and thread and began stitching up the flesh which must have been the spleen he had just mentioned.
But Spleen didn’t mind the wait. Kidneys were fun too, and she meowed happily before picking up the organ in her mouth and twisting her head to fling it across the room. It landed with a splat on the floor.
And the whyn nearly giggled with delight before bouncing across the room to pounce on it.
--------------------------------------

What should I do now?
“It’s such a darn shame. Her body is in lovely condition...aside from the crushed throat and larynx. I’m sure I have a replacement somewhere around here...” Whym mumbled to himself. He had already finished up with the first body, and he was now done with the young woman’s body, still laying on the table.
Spleen looked up at her owner. He was sitting in another chair, this one metal, and he was flipping through her chart. His gloves were off, but there was blood dripping from his horns and tail. Then again, that blood was from him and was nearly always there.
Spleen mewed and pulled the old man’s spleen closer to her and she cuddled around it. It was her answer to nearly all his comments.
“I know. I know. I shouldn’t care. But it really is a shame to see deaths like this. Someone so young and lovely, barely injured, yet laying here in my home. And what’s worse? She is set for cremation as well...it’s like she was made for my replacement parts.”
Whym tossed the chart onto the metal tray and placed his hands behind his head so he could lean back slightly. He closed his eyes in thought.
“I’ve perfected the technique that that old fool used to resurrect me from the dead. If I replace her damaged organs, stitch her up right, and set everything up properly...I mean, it’s a cremation. No one knows the difference between human ash and dirt. I could easily keep her for myself...”
Spleen mewed again in jealousy.
“Oh Spleen, lovely whyn, you know you are the only woman for me,” Whym teased with a wide smirk on his face as he opened one eye and looked down at the pet.
“But having some company to speak with would be nice...and it is always fun to see what the resurrected will do. The previous ones I brought back to life all did such entertaining things...and I am so very bored during the breaks between work...”
Spleen stretched and mewed again nonchalantly, indicating that she could care less as long as Whym only really cared for her.
And her owner chuckled before standing up.
“Then it’s decided. It’s time to have some more fun...I wonder what this lovely young woman will be like when she has some life again...”

--------------------------------------

Name: Whymsical
Nickname: Whym
Date of Birth: December 21st, 1643
Date of Death: July 7th, 1665
Date of Resurrection: February 17th, 1668
Cause of Death: Septicemic Plague (the version of the plague that infects the blood) - The Great Plague of London (1665-1666)
Cause of Resurrection: Revived by a Mad Scientist... who subsequently died from catching the plague from Whym!
Occupation: Mortician... gotta get new body parts SOMEHOW!
Age: Do the math.
Astrological Sign: Sagittarius/Capricorn (Born on the Cusp)
Status: Single, and not really looking
Preference: Uh, doesn’t really care, but leans towards the ladies.
Eye Color: Black Sclera (the typically ‘white’ part of the eye) with white pupil and iris
Body/Build: Depends on the body parts at the time...
Hair color: Black with red stripes
Type of hair: Straight, slightly shaggy when not gelled back
Markings: Lots of stitches where his body parts connect, some green discoloration of the skin in older areas of flesh
Greatest fear: Religion and religious stories
Most at ease when: Working with a cadaver
Most ill at ease when: Around happy, bouncy, living children

ART OF WHYMSICAL
By hikage11.
By Mou.
By Lexx.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE POTION, SITHANA! :D
Profile graphics, overlay, story, and coding by Lexx.
Profile images from MGWallpaper.com and Vectorstock.com.