I sit and watch, mesmerized, my eyes slowly widening as I watch the pale flesh separate from the bone.
It sliced off so evenly, only a small piece falls to the floor so I stoop to pick it up and rinse it off in the sink next to the table.
Dark red stains my fingertips and palm as I turn it over in my hand, suddenly wondering what it may taste like.
I run upstairs quickly and return within a few minutes carrying a skillet, some oil, salt, pepper, a knife & fork and a plate.
I have a small hot plate down here in the basement but I don’t use it much really because there’s never been any reason to…until now.
I noticed her staring at me, her eyes slowly glazing over with fear and pain.
Not a word she says as I have taking care of that and removed her tongue. The only thing she can do is emit a low gurgle.
Smiling, I decided to cook the tongue along with the other and just make a regular dinner out of it. I think I have some salad upstairs too left over from last night to round everything out.
It’s interesting how the blood cooks, sizzling & browning a bit around the edge of the small puddle and it flips nicely when I turn the meat over. Pulling a bit of it away I let it rest on my tongue, savoring it as it melts away. I turn off the heat, not wanting to overcook it but not sure how to tell since I’ve never cooked human before. It smells a bit like hamburger. The tongue is thick and chewy but not bad, a bit hard to swallow though. The meat, however, is amazing. Crunchy around the edges but nice & tender, like cutting into a thick pork chop. A bit of muscle is still attached to it and it just adds a bit to the flavor. I just hope she doesn’t die anytime soon…the next bit may not taste as good. Everyone knows fresh is best.
The Queen of Hell
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I sat there quietly listening to him screaming from the other room.
He’d been wailing off and on for hours but I was tired and didn’t want to deal with him at the moment.
I sat up as the sounds softened to a low sob and rose off the sofa, slowly walking into the bedroom and stared at him with no emotion whatsoever.
I felt dead inside. Seeing him there, tied to the bed, covered in blood, a pickaxe burried in his right knee…there was no pity or emotion. I bore many scars…some on top of each other from his years of relentless torment. He had killed everything in me therefore his suffering meant nothing to me at all. His eyes widened as he saw me and he began screaming again, calling me every foul name he could think of but it had no affect. I sighed as I picked up a large meat cleaver and as I raised it slowly over his right calf he began to cry. I looked at him as he quietly whispered “Please…please Katie”.
“Please? How many times did I say that to you and you never stopped?” and my eyes glazed over as the blade fell.
The Queen of Hell
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