Spaghetti Night

 I was taken back, to reality, by the way my urine ran cold down my thighs.

My swollen eyes were caught in gooey cement but finally with a twitch they crunched open, wide, never daring to blink. It was all a blur at first, and I wish it would stay this way, but the mumbled low voices near me proved I was not alone. I s**t myself then. Hot chunky feces dripped from my body in fear, I couldn't stop it. Medically my body was too malnourished to do much else. But it still burned.

“Mama, Mama! She is waking up again.” A high pitched voice announced.

I looked over to a puffy pink ball, and my visage righted itself. A seven year old was kneeling on the chair across the table from where I sat. From where my arms were nailed into the seat, and fingers shaved off with a file.

“Millie baby doll, go run tell your Pa that dinner is ready.”

Oh god. Oh god. I started to heave then. It was a dry powdery puke swirling around my tongue and I choked on it. Foam drooled from my mouth and I cringed away fearfully when the woman welding the butcher knife reached to wipe it away.

Loud thumping footsteps befell my aching ears, and a veil of dread spread over my body like molten chills. Millie came back into the kitchen, her tiny hand clasping a much larger, dirtier one. Her Pa was a lumbering man, built like timber and as thick as a cow.

“It smells good in here, Mama.” He complimented, reaching out to pinch the woman's a*s fondly. She gave him a toothy smirk, gapes and holes from her rotted and missing teeth were attractive to him. But I only wanted to beat her face in with a sledge hammer.

“That's right, my love, I made your favorite.” Plucking the bloody intestines from the rigid torso laying neatly on the counter, she laid the slick hoses on the cutting board and began to chop them into large chunks. Scooping up the oozing pieces they were dropped into a bubbling tomato sauce. “Spaghetti.”

I wanted to scream. Poor, poor, Andrew. They had cut him in half, and from where I was staked only his pale blue abs were in sight. Spread open like a s**t for me to see how she emptied him.

It was all his fault. He had brought us here on a dare from his frat brothers. It was harmless. We planned for quick sex, and a night of cuddling in a tent on the porch. We didn't know they were here.

Millie climbed into my lap, her hands gripping my elbows for support to pull her small body up. I groaned loud, the vibration tore my sore throat, and I could taste the copper taint of my blood. She had used my arms. The same ones the nails were driven into, causing them to create a larger hole, my bone grating against the galvanized stake with each labored breath. Millie smiled.

I saw a demon for the second time. The woman, “Mama”, had explained to me earlier while skinning Andrews skin from his back, that they sharpened Millie's baby teeth. It was to held produce scars on her tongue, so that the little girl would have no trouble chewing hard pricking bones later in her life.

“Baby doll, get down. Here is your fork.” Mama said, sliding the utensil to Pa and Millie. The little girl jumped down, her pink frilly tutu floated around her thighs when she was finally settled in the seat next to me.

I was frozen then. More still than I had ever been before in my life. Were they really going to eat in front of me? Like a normal family? I thought about my own family and felt the dull pang in my chest jab again. This time with a deeper feeling.

Pa stabbed me into the arm with his fork and dragged the dull metal upwards to rip my skin apart and splay out my hot slimy muscles. I seized back, arching as far as the seat allowed with a strangled cry spitting pitifully from my mouth. It hurt. How could this hurt after everything, but it did.

Mama joined in and slaked her pronged weapon at my visible veins, pricking them from their nice home around my muscles and began to twist. She twirled the veins around, and around her fork. Ignoring my gasping painful cries Mama flicked the vein in half and dipped her fork full into the spicy sauce.

She speared a chunk of blanked charred intestine and brought the fork to Millie's mouth. The little girl opened wide, her yellow razor light teeth glinting in the dim kitchen light, and she watched my pale face flinch away when she took the entire bite. Chewing slowly and messily, the massive wad seeping with air bubbles out the corner of her mouth.

Mama wiped Millie's mouth and turned back to me for another bite. But I was already shaking with shock from Pa's large raking mouthfuls of my squirting veins. He practically slurped them up with gurgling moans of contentment.

I was losing it. Losing all feeling in my body. My head burned with a fire that was so very cold, and lonely, and ending. If felt like hours, but it only took them minutes to fill up on Andrew's meat. Mama gather up Millie and wiped her down, turning to get the dishes once Pa had burped. A flap of my veins tittering on his bottom lip.

He leaned in close to me and slid his hand under the table, over to my knee. I didn't feel it. But from the look in his eyes and the way he wiggled his visible fingers I could tell the others were in a place they shouldn't be.

“Dessert.” He declared with a raspy giggle. And my world went black. My nightmare ended with a blanket of darkness wrapping me up like a precious burden. Laying me down into the pit of nothingness that I welcomed.

Reviews

[Jezabel's Theory]

probably the most grotesque thing i've ever read- or close to it. mission accomplished :) as far as how to improve it, i think some of the sentances sentance would elicite stronger reactions from the reader if the descriptives were not overdone. the content is terrifying enough and overdoing it can feel more like an attempt at profanity vs horror. Theres definatly a difference. also, the first paragraph is more confusing than contextualizing. but good work, writing horror can be difficult