- bring up (a child) with care and affection."the art of mothering"
- dated; give birth to
They Took Me For Granted
I feel the humans ripping off layers of my skin everyday. Feeling every wheat cut by a sharp blade, bearing the pain of every slice of grass trying to grow, the unbearable death of every animal, the pluck of every apple. Intertwined as a network of an organic branch. An entire body, everywhere and everything, I am.
Name: Publicly known as Doctor Wheatley
Alias: Flesh Shephard, Meat Carpenter, Materfamilia of Flesh, Maestro of Clay, Doctor of Sustenance, Angel of Restoration, Father of Undying, Internal Manipulator, The voice inside your head.
Base Height: 5’9” (Adaptive)
Base Weight: 90 Ibs (Adaptive)
Work In Progress
The flakes of rusted orange bark peeled and shattered as the ancient laboratory door finally opened, abandoned. Life was quarantined from the area before the contamination but there was an answer, a nurse. She looked at you for a while then smiled. Nothing about her seemed odd, a bit healthy with rosy cheeks and lively for the situation in all honesty.
“Oh! He's been expecting you."
Deceptive, the doctor bore. Rot underneath rosey flesh, make-up covering ancient delusions.
The Ancient Methods
The Cult Of The Great Doctor
"You see.. Like a common cold per se, it doesn't want to be known. A virus needs to infiltrate and evolve over time to exploit whatever the environment is. Bacteria or animals or anything evolving to their settings isn't that surprising... It's nothing new. But you guys shooting a few too many Nuclear Bombs at me?"
"Really just -"
I wouldn't have it any other way.
And after the attempted bombardment, equivalent to rainfall against my mutated shield. I gave them a nice, long, sarcastic applause.
"-Thank you... for your creativity."
In you, lives my eagerness that most people won't be able to comprehend. A silent hate that I want to experience... I want to experience you, so I can understand how much you hate me. And when I finally come to terms with ending your life, I will finally know if my eagerness to play hopscotch in your chest cavity was just my usual sadistic self or if it was the mutual hate that we shared with each other.
mutant crop fields
I'm Whatever I Want To Be.
Appearances In Media