Ripping, rending, tearing at me, every – fucking – night!
Why does it always have to be this way? This thing over and over again? It wasn’t supposed to be like this, not for me. I was always a good girl; I excelled at everything! What did I do to deserve this? Why did he choose me?
I swear to God there is no reason it should have been me! Not that I wish it on some other girl, I mean, I’m not like that – that’s not right, right?
Do you have to chew so fucking loud?
Isn’t it enough that he took what he did? Isn’t it enough that I have to live it every fucking night when he comes home? Do I really have to hear it again and again? I swear I’ll puke if he starts slurping! Whom I kidding, does he ever not slurp? He always fucking slurps; he rips, he tears, he chews, he slurps! I mean seriously, fuck me!
I just wanted to see the kittens, that’s all. I wanted to see their cute little faces all snuggled up and hear them making tiny little mewling sounds. That’s what he said… how was I supposed to know he was a complete douche bag? Jay said he was cool, we’d hung with him a few times – I mean, sure, we all knew he was lying about his age, but he was so fucking hot and didn’t mind pick up beer for us, maybe I flirted a little… Why didn’t I just stay outside and fucking wait for Jay like he told me to?
Maybe no one will ever know; maybe no one will ever find out; maybe no one will ever smell it… Oh God, why me? I’m not the one this was supposed to happen to! I’m not, god-damn it! Fuck him, fuck his apartment, fuck his blonde hair and fuck his blue eyes! I knew better, I know I did. I just didn’t think it would happen to me…
Ugh, chew with your mouth closed PLEASE!
How did I let this happen? I was just hanging out on the porch waiting for Jay when jerk-off drove up and asked if I wanted to see his kittens. Of course I wanted to see his kittens, what girl wouldn’t want to see his kittens? It was kinda weird the way he asked me to come around the back to go upstairs, but we’d hung out at his place before… it seemed cool.
Ah, crap, he’s friggin slurping again… dude, really?
Like I said, I’d been to his place before, Jay wasn’t gonna be back for at least another half hour, so why not go see the kittens, right?
So I walk around to the back and go upstairs with him ‘cause he doesn’t want to bother coming around front to let me in – yeah, I’m a friggin idiot, I know, you really don’t have to say it. We get up to his apartment and he’s holding a bag of groceries and asks me…
Come On… more chewing? Doesn’t this guy ever get sick of it?
I say sure when he asks me to hold his sack (yeah, he’s real fucking funny, this one) as he opens the door to let me step in. Okay kiddies, time to pay attention because this is where the ride gets interesting.
The door closing behind me takes place in a sane and still perfect world; but as the sound of the deadbolt being thrown begins to echo softly through the darkened living room; time begins to ebb away from me in a way I’ve never experienced before. It slows down; not the slowness of an extended moment when a bottle crashes to the tile floor, but the acute awareness of an animal that instinctively senses a predator nearby; heart racing, hearing razor sharp, eyes dilating to fix on the impending threat.
As the deadbolt is thrown, I begin to turn wondering why lock the door? In the span of a heartbeat that last 7, 8, maybe 9 seconds in my distorted time frame; he locks, I turn; he smiles, I drop …the bag hits the floor. Before the scream can escape my lips, he reaches out and yanks me back into a vise-like grip. This is wrong; every fiber of my being is screaming it, my brain is trying to process it, my body is in shock – utterly immobile. What’s happening? Oh God, I know what’s happening…
That’s when I hear the crack.
It’s odd really, in movies or on TV, when you see someone get their neck broken, there’s always a sigh followed by a pregnant pause, then the body falls to the floor and…. cut! that’s a wrap folks; thank you very much – the Craft food cart is set up in the lot! Well, it doesn’t go down that way for me.
In a single fluid motion he snaps my neck to the side and begins dragging my body through the double doors into his bedroom. I’m not supposed to be able to feel anything at this point, right? Then again, this wasn’t supposed to happen to me, remember?
Every one of my senses is in overdrive. I feel the fibers of the carpet scrape my bare legs; I feel the overly indulgent sheets that this low-life piece of shit sleeps on hit the side of my face as I’m tossed on the bed; I feel his disgusting fetid breath on my neck tainting my skin with its rotting odor. I’m pulsing with terror as he rips my sundress off with one swift yank from behind. I’m desperate to protect myself; desperate to get away; desperate to strike back – but I can’t, my limbs won’t move! My quivering flesh responds only to his septic touch. The pain is excruciating; my broken and abused body lies there waiting for the release that only death will bring it.
…I must have passed out…
Ripping – rending – tearing – slurping; what the fuck is that noise? I can hear the sheets on the bed as they wrinkle beneath me, I can smell how green the pistachio paint is on the walls, I can taste the blood of the small man nailed to the cross that hangs above his dresser, I can even count the change laying on the bedside table; but I can’t feel a fucking thing – and have no clue what that noise is! Then he grants me a view by shifting so I can see him in the mirror, and what I see is him carving slices of meat off my now paralytic back while he chews them in ecstasy. Sticky red blood mixed with fatty globules slide over his chin and down his grotesquely malformed chest – he’s eating me! First he used my body like I was an extra in a grindhouse flick, now he’s fucking eating me?
Oh God… Am I awake again?
Why am I still here? Why must I lay on this bed day after day, waiting for it to end? Why didn’t I just die like I should have?
Dude, really? Do you have to fucking slurp when you eat me?
~ Nina D’Arcangela
© Copyright 2012 Nina D’Arcangela. All Rights Reserved.
Pen of the Damned 
Hmmm, Nina, as usual, you serve up another steaming dish of disturbing! To my eye & ear while reading, there is much being “consumed” in your story; your simple prose leaves a lingering enigma. Basic approaches to narration often cut to the bone when done properly…aah, Dark Angel of Pen of the Damned, you’ve left me tattered and splayed. Dark, delicious & dastardly demented! 😉
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Thanks Joe, this one is written from the perspective of a teenager, I didn’t want the language to read too elevated. There are only a few paragraphs where I let a little of ‘me’ eek in. And I agree, simplistic prose can sometimes pack a powerful punch if they draw emotion out of the reader. BTW – did you catch the doubling I was talking about in it? :}
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I love a girl who can be sarcastic while being eaten alive!
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LOL – at that point, it’s all or nothing! ;}
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Chef D’arc Angel of Words, please pack your carving knives and enter the primordial room of horror… As we know, I have a bit of an affinity for disgusting, disturbing and demented. You, my dear, have hit all said nails on their heads busting them open like ripe melons of dread left to rot too long in the hot sun. What a fine piece that is nothing short of…deliciousssss… *double-entendre smile* You’ve left me hungering (pun intended) for more. Perhaps dessert? *wondering-what-that-might-be grin* I’ve always said kittens were bad news, and you’ve taken the illogical interest in these creatures to an all-new level of evil. As I expected, ‘Chewing’ was dark, painful, splatter-filled and it oozed with that special sauce that only your fiendish mind can conjure up.
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Perhaps some kitten-gelato to ease that dessert hunger, RedStare? LOL (please don’t eat kittens, really!) Thank you for appreciating my de-evolution from furry little mewlers to a creature of horror! And of course for the kind words regarding my little spin on the more twisted side of the block. ;}
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That’s a Dark, Delicious, and Devious one, Nina! I really enjoyed the perspective and the way you revealed information.
Note to self … ignore all request to help with groceries!
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Thanks Tyr! Once the inner 15 year old took over, this one wrote itself… Actually, my standard vernacular requires the use of ‘fuck’ every two or three words – makes my Mom proud! And do ignore those groceries, you never know who’s sack you might be grabbing… ;]~
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Table manners, especially when eating the living, are extremely important. The demented humorist in me especially loved this. Well done, Nina!
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Without table manners, what are we, really? Civilization as we know it would devolve into utter chaos! I’m glad you appreciated the satirical nature of the main entree’s POV. ;}
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Oh, Nina! What a visceral experience! I LOATHE eating noises, but this story was brilliant! The pacing was perfect, as bit-by-bit, the plot unfolded. *smirks* I loved the sarcasm and bitter undertones. Truly a wicked and demented tale. Thank you for the thrills and chills!
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Eating sounds drive me up the wall too… guess which one I hate the most? LOL – I’ll take wicked and demented as the highest of compliments, and say thank you Temptress of the Macabre! I’m glad the sarcasm & bitterness bled through the way it was meant to. ;}
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It takes something special to write a piece about cannibalism that still leaves the reader with a smile at the end, Nina, but you have managed it here! I love how frustrated your protagonist is with her captor’s slurping, even after she realises he’s dining on her! A grim, gross and gorgeously written first-person account.
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Hi Tom! Thank you for saying such kind things about my twisted little tale! My snarky muse is as demanding as my emotive one, though I usually wring its little neck until it goes back into its hidey-hole and lets me play with the adults. I’m glad I was able to bring this piece to a place where it was disturbing on both a viscerally and visually level, yet still left the reader with a grin in the end. ;}
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Well done, Nina. I really enjoyed this piece. You’ve done something very special here. It was very gripping and I found myself imediately tuning out my family around me here in the living room as I worked to find out just what was happening to your lead. Great payoff!
-Jimmy
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Thank you Jimmy! I really appreciate your comment, and I’m glad the payoff was worth the read (and apologize to your family for me!). It seems I should stop throttling my more sarcastic voice, and let it out a bit more often! Thank you again, very sincerely! ;}
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I agree with the other comments above, on how your story blends something uber disturbing with a certain kind of dark humor, with a tinge of sexual undertones, by choice of characters: the snarky-teenager and demented “older man.” Great characters! Great payoff!
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Thank you Matthew! I wish I could say it had been a harder mix for me, but this one wrote itself once it started, and really only had one “horror” conclusion. I’m very pleased with it, and extremely satisfied by the reaction it’s received. Thanks again Matthew – most people don’t bother to comment, and the writer is left wondering what the reader’s feedback would have been – good, bad or indifferent. The good is always better though! ;}
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Funny / the chewing makes me want to puke
you do it good lady of the night
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I guess it’s very effective then! LOL Thanks 😉
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Fantastic piece. The change in her focus in present time telling the story matched her suddenly awareness in the past event when the deadbolt was locked. The adolescent perspective of the narrator/victim was great. I had a hint of shame that I was smiling at the end. Thanks!
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You are very welcome! LOL – Thank you for the kind words. Feel no shame, the story was meant to evoke a sense of amusement amidst the horror of her reality. Sarcasm is a place my mind easily wanders to when I’m writing, I usually stomp it back and don’t allow it control of the piece, but I think it mixed in very nicely here. 🙂
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