The Flesh Collector

An unreleased short story from the book:

Love Me to Death: Disturbing Tales of Online Dating Gone Horribly Wrong


When Jacob first saw her, he didn’t know what to think. Her profile picture was a simple shot of her smiling by the sea, the sunlight bouncing off her dark hair, a bright and innocent smile that told him everything he needed to know. She wasn’t like the others—no exaggerated poses, no overdone makeup, just a woman who seemed genuine. Her name was Eliza, and their conversations had been easy, natural. They both liked hiking, good wine, and movies that made you think. It felt real, a connection that went beyond the shallow exchanges he had with most people on the app.

After a few weeks of texting, Eliza invited him to meet at a quiet café on the edge of town. He was eager, feeling that maybe—just maybe—this could be the start of something real.

She was even more beautiful in person than in her pictures. Her dark, almond-shaped eyes sparkled with warmth, and her soft laugh echoed in his chest. They talked for hours. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and they shared stories about their lives, their hopes, their fears. There was a comfort to her presence, like he’d known her forever.

At the end of the night, she invited him to dinner at her place. “I know this amazing little restaurant nearby,” she said, her voice low, as though she were sharing a secret. “I’d love to cook for you. Would you like that?”

Jacob, eager for more time with her, agreed. The evening seemed to unfold naturally, like a dream he never wanted to end.

Her apartment was in an older part of town, near the outskirts. It wasn’t lavish, but it was cozy. The smell of garlic and herbs filled the air as Eliza led him to a small dining table by the window. He noticed the soft lighting, the comfortable ambiance, and for a moment, he thought maybe this was fate, that they had met for a reason.

But there was something about her—something that didn’t quite sit right. She was too calm, too composed, as if she were operating on autopilot. Her movements were practiced, efficient. She didn’t seem nervous at all, even though this was their first date.

As they ate, Jacob tried to shake off the nagging feeling in his gut. The food was incredible—perfectly cooked, the kind of meal you’d expect at a five-star restaurant. But the whole evening felt strange, like he was being watched, like there was something lurking in the shadows.

When they were finished, she poured them each another glass of wine. “I’ve got something I want to show you,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.

He followed her down a narrow hallway, past a few closed doors. The apartment was quiet, too quiet, save for the sound of their footsteps. They stopped at a door that led to what appeared to be a small study. But as Eliza opened the door, the smell hit him first—a strange, metallic scent that made his stomach churn.

Inside, it was cold. The room was dimly lit, and there were strange tools on the shelves, things that looked like surgical instruments. In the corner, there was a small desk cluttered with medical papers. At first, Jacob thought it was a bit odd, but then Eliza turned to face him with a strange, almost detached smile.

“I want you to see something,” she said, reaching for a drawer.

The drawer opened with a soft creak, and she pulled out a small, old-fashioned book. It looked like something out of a horror movie, its cover made of worn leather. She opened it to a page filled with strange symbols and photographs that made his blood run cold.

“I’m part of something,” she said quietly, her eyes now cold, calculating. “Something… different. Something you won’t understand until it’s too late.”

Before he could respond, a sharp pain shot through Jacob’s chest. He gasped, his hands clutching at his shirt, but it wasn’t just the pain. It was a sensation that spread through his body like ice creeping under his skin. His muscles locked, his vision blurred.

“What… what are you doing?” he gasped, his voice weak, his breathing shallow.

Eliza’s face softened, as though she were merely explaining a scientific fact. “You see, Jacob, we don’t just take lives here. We collect them. Your organs, your flesh, they’re worth more than you can imagine. The buyers are waiting. And you—well, you’re the perfect candidate.”

His heart raced as his limbs grew heavier. He wanted to scream, but the pain was overwhelming. His arms couldn’t move, his legs felt like they were cemented to the floor. His body was no longer his own.

“Please,” he whispered, unable to even lift his hand. “Don’t… don’t do this.”

The sound of the door opening behind him made his blood run cold. Figures entered—men in dark suits, their faces obscured by shadows, holding large, gleaming tools. One of them stepped forward, a tall man with a surgical mask, his eyes cold as ice.

Eliza stepped back, watching from the corner, her eyes still cold, almost detached. “You should have left when you had the chance. Now, you’re going to be a part of something much bigger than you ever imagined.”

The men moved swiftly, their hands expertly preparing him. He could feel the needle in his arm before the darkness overtook him again.

When Jacob awoke, the first thing he noticed was the cold. He was lying flat on a steel table in what looked like an operating room. His body felt… wrong. Numb. But he could still feel the tugging sensation—the invasive sensation of his body being worked on, the sharp sting of something being removed from inside of him.

He tried to move, but his arms were strapped down. Panic surged in his chest, and he fought against the restraints. “No! Stop! Please, stop!” he screamed, but his voice was weak, rasping.

He could hear footsteps echoing through the room, but his vision was too blurred, the room too dark for him to make out any details. The smell of disinfectant burned his nostrils as he felt the sensation of his flesh being sliced open, piece by piece. His blood—his life—was spilling out, taken from him slowly, methodically.

“No!” he gasped. “What are you doing to me? What do you want from me?”

One of the men, the one with the surgical mask, stepped closer, a scalpel glinting in the dim light. “It’s not personal, Jacob,” he said, his voice flat. “You’re just… a donor. Just like the rest.”

The words didn’t register at first, not until the horror of what was happening truly sank in. They weren’t just going to kill him. They were taking his organs—his very being—and selling it. Every part of him, from his heart to his lungs to his kidneys, would be sold to the highest bidder.

Eliza’s voice came from the shadows. “It’s just business, Jacob. You were chosen. You’ll be worth a lot to someone. You don’t get to decide.”

The last thing Jacob saw before the darkness overtook him again was the cold gleam of the tools. The men had finished their work. His body—his very identity—was now a commodity, a part of a larger, grotesque transaction. He wasn’t even human anymore. He was just… flesh.

Jacob’s final moments were not his own. He had been stripped of everything—his dignity, his life, and his very essence. When the world went dark for him, when the cold and pain consumed him completely, the only thing left was the unfeeling, suffocating emptiness.

And somewhere, far from him, people were waiting. People who would never see the person behind the flesh, who would never know the man they had taken. They would only see the value in his organs—the price of his life.

The cruel irony was that he would never even have the chance to escape. No one ever did.

In the end, he had been just another transaction. A price paid for someone else’s luxury.


If you enjoyed this short story you will probably like our latest release available now:

Love Me to Death: Disturbing Tales of Online Dating Gone Horribly Wrong

Original price was: $5.99.Current price is: $3.99.

“Love Me to Death” dives deeply into the chilling abyss of online dating, where hope and romance quickly devolve into horror, manipulation, and death.

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