He ate her whole: A love story

Three days before 2012 expires and she still finds herself hanging from the same hook; she is naked and parts of her are already missing. However, she looks at him full of understanding as he sets the table for yet another meal...poor man, he is always so hungry.

Even though she is skinnier than when he found her a couple of months before, this never puts him off his food. Piece by piece he cuts her off with a long blade raw and dripping and eats her on a fancy dinner plate in the candlelight as she hangs there with a bitter smile, all pleased that she gave what he needed, yet sad that it didn't earn her a kiss.

Yet, it is odd, he is never truly pleased, always treats her with scorn, always punishing her for giving him love, her skin is too thick, her blood too sour, her bones without marrow and she cries and cries. You see she loves him so. She wishes she were fatter, with bigger breasts for him to feast on, she wishes to see him smile, to hear him talk, he never talks only chews once in a while and then walks away, punishing her for being so lean.

Tick tock, tick tock, the clock ticks the old year away and she looks at herself in the mirror he bought for her  so that she can look at what's left: no legs, no flesh on her ribs at all, liver gone, her right eye, her hair all to the floor. Poor girl, there's really nothing left for him to feast on yet she waits for the clock to strike 12  to finally do what he had promised when he first installed the hook in the dark, narrow room; to finally eat her whole.

He sewed her mouth shut because he doesn't want to hear her speak. She never understands the pain he goes through chewing on her bones, she doesn't know how it feels to truly love someone because she has never eaten human flesh, she has never cut a limb of a beloved, she doesn't know how it is to clean after one's mess; she is always so dynamically headstrong, always complaining, demanding for more, the bitch.

"What's left?" he asks and stands before her before the clock strikes 12. It's been a week perhaps two. She's missed him so. Her left eye, short-sighted as it is, scans his body for signs of love. He looks so tall and fierce, his blade catching the candle light on the fancy tablecloth.
She wants to speak but she can't, her mouth is sewn tight.  She cannot move so she blinks twice.
"It's my heart" she thinks," Happy New Year my love."
She dies of joy before she dies of pain.
He lifts her off her hook with one hand and swirls her round and round the room. She catches a glimpse of some coloured lights and a chair.
"He cares, at last he cares." she shouts in her mind full of joy and then it's over.

He places her on the dinner table and rips her heart out through the exposed rib cage. It still beats and her ghost moans with pleasure of his delight.

The clock strikes 12 and he licks his fingers meticulously.

"Time too see the parents," he mutters lifting the big rubbish bag off the floor.

Bitter truths: A Christmas story.

    (photo by Holger Droste)

"Persephone get dressed, another batch has arrived, hurry!"

The girl moaned, she hated being awaken like this do deal with something that repulsed her. Her limbs still ached from her husband's late night visit. She needed more sleep, definitely more sleep.
"On Christmas Day? Must be bitter to die on Christmas..." she muttered.
"It's bitter to die on any day, my queen. Now you mush hurry, he's already at the lakes" he old woman said placing a white linen dress on her bed.
"I bet he's thrilled!" she said pulling the cold linen over her head. "More toys for him to play with ...the necrophiliac!" she added, bitterness and anger dripping thick on the floor.
"If he were what you say, he wouldn't have you, would he now?...You'll get used to him and his ways.." the old woman said brushing her golden hair with a gold-crusted bone comb. "He is good at what he does" she added, "And anyway...in a few more months you'll be able to go home again.."
"Only to come back here..I hate him.." Persephone said but the old woman pretended not to hear.

Barefoot, she walked out on the damp street and was startled to find a large silver moon hanging from the sky. She stared at it wide-eyed, trying to work out what it meant and why He has gone into so much trouble. The moon looked real, the wet streets reflected its pale light making everything around her look brilliantly...dead. Her spirits fell.
When she got to the mucky river she saw the boat empty already and Jack counting his gold.

"Merry Christmas Jack...you busy bee." she added and sat down on the mucky concrete river bank. The black waters below her sizzled with the silvery moonlight and even the ancient boat glistered with it here and there. Jack, however, like a black hole sucked all the light within him and reflected none.
He raised his head, lowered his cloak and looked over him.  His black, volcanic eyes with long lashes like spider legs, rested on her feet for a moment before locking on her transparent eyes. His pale mouth was immediately drawn into a smile the stubble on his chin and cheeks barely noticeable.

"Merry Christmas Persephone. " he said in his warm, husky voice. "Got you a little present!" he said and she saw his hand rummaging his right pocket.
"What is it?" she asked her hands into a prayer over her chest.
"Oh I little something I found while picking up customers." he said, raised his bony arm to the sky and shook his palm.
The thing jingled.
His white palm was warm to the touch though her hand was dead cold. The little golden bell let out a chocked squeal as she lifted it to her eyes.
"Pretty." she said
"That's what I thought too." Jack said, "I immediately thought of you." he added
He locked his eyes on hers and she felt herself drawn to him like a bee to the honey. Death was warm and sweet.
Once he sensed his affect on her, he pulled his eyes away and bent low to pick up his oars.
"I've got to run, there are more waiting for me on the other end..."
"Busy day.." Persephone said.
"Christmas is.." he added and raised his hand in goodbye as the boat slithered away. He was quickly lost in the mist.

Persephone jingled the bell once more. Its sound sent ripples over the water and made the moon shiver. She pecked it and tucked it in her breast. She knew she was late so she started to run.