Roughly Hewn

Dr. Henry Sullivan, coroner and forensic pathologist.  

Voice journal on cylinder phonograph.  

November 9, 1894.  

Having spoken with Mrs. Kavinsky, mother...of the deceased. 

Prior to our conversation, I hadn't considered the possibility of suicide. It seems dramatic, childish, and quite tasteless as far as statements are concerned. After all, there is no real point in making a point if you can’t point to it afterwards. The murder (for I still hold to my initial diagnosis) positively reeks of villainy—no political or social agenda could have possibly found its way into the motive. I am convinced of this for two distinct reasons:  

First, the method; that is, a woodsman’s axe. Admittedly, an axe is ironic, if not fitting, for the situation at hand. A series of blows were received in the victim’s abdomen, just above the waist. As the precision of the strikes grew with the wound’s depth, I imagine he was rendered immobile within a few short seconds. It is interesting to note that the killer was thorough, complete, and did not leave until the axe met the forest floor. This denotes a methodical procedure, likely one of vengeful nature.  

Second, the location. Brendonshire Woods are not...theatrical. I imagine our beloved departed was pursued into the forest, and, hindered by his physical state, was easily seized and quickly subdued. Throughout my meeting with Mrs. Kavinsky, I was kind in the way I described my sort of mental sleuthing. But I do consider much of what I didn't tell her to be the absolute truth.  

As this hospital’s chief medical examiner, it was my original duty to perform the autopsy. It was that initial procedure that lead to the interest contained in this recording. I cut into the corpse with a pruning saw and sculpting chisel. His internal organs, though severely mangled by the axe, retained their form excellently. They, as with the rest to his entire body, consisted of a hard, oak-like wood. 

Allow me to repeat myself: the subject of Wednesday’s autopsy is entirely wood. 

I cannot express my shock and utter confusion at this discovery. At first glance, his skin is a very human shade. It wasn't until removing the sheet and touching the body did I realize a mere scalpel wouldn't do. Presumably, and according to Mrs. Kavinsky, his bodily movement was clearly inhuman and really quite stiff. As can be expected, the wound looks akin to a crudely chopped tree. The entirety of his internal makeup looks to be literally hand carved. From the lungs to the appendix, our poor victim is very roughly hewn.  

Tonight will be a restless one. I feel as if the man atop my autopsy table is...I feel as if he is no man. As if he is some morbidly fascinating apparition sent to torture my soul—or some supernatural curse sent to torture his. 

I will attempt to resume this journal tomorrow evening. Heaven knows if I am to become my own carved statue in the meantime.