Gallery of the Dead

Seven

Still bare of clothes, the man took a seat at his dressing table and studied his reflection in the three-way vanity mirror for a moment, checking his profile from both angles.

He loved the strange sensation he got every time he was about to start his transformation. It was a complicated feeling that not even he could properly explain, but it bizarrely filled him with a sense of accomplishment merged with something he could only describe as mind-numbing ecstasy.

The man savored that sensation for an extra full minute, allowing it to run through his body like blood running through his veins.

Elated, the man smiled at himself.

He knew that he could make himself look however he pleased. He could change the shape of his nose, the color of his eyes, the fullness of his cheekbones, the angle of his chin, the thickness of his lips, the contour of his ears, the quality of his teeth... it didn’t matter. The man’s knowledge of how to mold foam prosthetics coupled with his makeup expertise was second to none. Better yet, if he combined all that with just a few electronic gadgets, he could even change the sound and the strength of his voice, like he’d done before.

The man sat back on his chair and regarded the photo he had pinned to the top right-hand corner of his mirror. He had absolutely no idea who the man on it was. The picture had come from a random stock-photos website, but the person on it had a very interesting look about him — round nose, low cheekbones, full lips, blue eyes, and angled eyebrows that gave his whole face a somewhat sad look. For some reason the man liked that. The person’s skin color was also a shade darker than the man’s own.

The man had already molded several pieces of foam prosthetics to match the person’s nose, lips and cheekbones, and as he applied a thin layer of special adhesive to one of the pieces, he began to imagine what that person would be like in real life — how he would talk, walk, smile, laugh... Would his voice be soft and subdued, strong and authoritative, or a combination of both?

How about his personality? the man wondered. Would he be outgoing, talkative, shy, introvert, funny, serious, intellectual? The possibilities were endless, and that thoroughly excited him. He loved the creation process of every new person he became. He loved it because there was no one better at it than he was. But the physical transformation, together with the personality conception, was only part of the fun. The real excitement, the real creative process would come later, for the man was undoubtedly an artist.