Matt Shaw - Consumed

“You know that won’t work.”

“Could make it look as though he ran away?”

“They wouldn’t stop looking for him. They’d be too afraid he’d bring someone back to help his friends. Jesus Christ, what were you thinking?”

“I was hungry!”

“And you couldn’t wait a couple more hours? Or even have a biscuit? We can’t hide this from mum and dad.”

Tammy sat on the bed, deflated. The bliss she had from the taste of flesh was all but a distant memory now as she realised the disappointment and anger she’d cause her parents when they discovered what she had done.

“You’re better off telling them sooner rather than later,” said Johnny, “you never know, she may not have started preparing the meat… Could save her selection for another day.” He paused, “Do you want me to tell them?”

Tammy nodded. A scared little girl.

Even though the picture of Robert made him out to be tall — it’d still have come as a shock had you seen him face to face for the picture didn’t do his true height, six foot five inches, any kind of justice. He was an imposing figure with muscles clearly bulging under his tight v-neck t’shirts, despite the fact he was in his sixties. His face, mostly hidden behind a shaggy grey beard which didn’t match the colour of the hair on his head, permanently seemed to have a scowl upon it — something which made his height even more scary in reality.

He was standing in an old wooden barn, set back behind the house, muttering to himself whilst skinning a deer which hung from the barn’s rickety rafters. Hayley was hanging, next to the deer, by her feet. A look of sheer panic on her gagged face. Robert pulled the knife he was using, from the deer’s carcass, and gave the blade a careful lick.

“Dad?”

Johnny’s voice from the barn’s doorway startled Robert, not that it showed.

“Didn’t I tell you not to disturb me whilst I’m working, boy?”

Johnny didn’t answer him. Instead he waited, with Tammy by his side, for his father to turn to face him — something which didn’t take long. Robert noticed the state of Tammy’s face immediately.

“Speak!” he demanded.

“I’m sorry, dad,” she whispered.

“What’s happened?” he asked. “Who’s blood is that?”

Tammy didn’t say anything for he knew what his temper was like and could tell he was already in one of those moods she had known from when she was a youngster — and had always feared so much. Johnny stepped in to help his sister.

“It’s the guy we put in her bedroom,” Johnny said.

“What about him?” Robert demanded.

“He tried to run,” Johnny lied. Tammy didn’t deny it. Instead she let her brother continue lying for her. “She didn’t have a choice…” he insisted.

“Where is he now?” Robert asked.

“He’s in the bedroom…” said Johnny. “She didn’t have a choice…”

Robert snarled as he pushed his way past his children to see what had happened. He knew the only way of knowing for sure was to see with his own eyes.

Tammy was sitting at a large kitchen table with tears in her eyes. Her face was still bloodied from her earlier feeding frenzy. Her hands rested, shaking, on the table surrounded by various bowls of vegetables.

Johnny was sitting with her, “It’ll be fine,” he told her.

The door opened revealing Robert and Andrea. Both of them looked angry.

“I’m sorry,” Tammy said to them.

Robert didn’t say anything. He crossed the room towards her in two single steps. He raised his hand, high in the air, and brought it down hard on Tammy’s face causing her to scream in pain.

“Don’t fucking touch her!” hissed Johnny. He leapt off his seat with his fists clenched, as though ready to strike back.

“Stop it!” screamed Andrea from the doorway where she had remained. “It’s not the end of the world. I haven’t started on the meat yet… Nothing’s been wasted. I’m sure I can salvage something.”

“What’s wrong with you?” asked Robert.

“He tried to run,” said Tammy — fighting back her tears.

“Rubbish!” shouted her father. “We saw what you did. He hadn’t tried to run and he wouldn’t have either… Not all the time you had a mouthful.” He looked as though he wanted to hit her again. “Or did you do that?” he asked Johnny who was still standing next to him — ready to take his swing.

“Fuck you!” hissed Johnny.

“And where were you last night? Cruising for more cock? You’re an embarrassment.”

“I’m not gay! How many times do I have to keep telling you?”

“Prove it!” Robert spat back. “Prove to me that you’re a man.”

“What?”

Robert grabbed Tammy by the hair and lifted her to her feet. Both Johnny and Andrea screamed for him to stop but he didn’t. He pushed her down on the table and pulled her jeans down using a swift, forceful, movement with his spare hand. “I said prove to me how much of a man you really are,” he hissed — a look of pure hatred and evil burning from his eyes.

Tammy screamed, “Get off! Please! I’m sorry!”

“Ssh,” Robert lifted her head off the table and slammed it back down — stunning her into silence. He turned his attention back to Johnny, “Well, boy, what are you waiting for. Stick her. Come on! Look at that tight, pretty little cunt… Doesn’t that make you hard? Don’t just stare at it… Fuck it!” he demanded. Keeping her head pinned to the table with one hand, he pulled her knickers to one side using the other — revealing her vagina to Johnny.

Johnny screamed at his father. Not from fear but more so out of hatred for his dad. He turned and fled the room hoping that Andrea would talk Robert down from his rage.

“Robert, please…” said Andrea, “you’re scaring us… Please…”

“No balls,” hissed Robert. “And he says he ain’t a faggot?”

“Robert, please…” Andrea continued.

“Shut up, whore. Something inside of you… Something… You did something to make him like that. Something broke him whilst he was cooking in you. Should have fucking stamped on the little shit as soon as you spat him out. Should have. Still should. Do us all a favour. One less mouth to feed.” Using his spare hand, he pulled at his belt until it undid. A quick fumble with the buttons on his dark blue jeans and, seconds later, he released his erection. “Look at this little cunt…” he continued, “have to be a queer not to want to fuck it.”

Tammy squealed in pain as her father pushed himself deep inside her. Andrea turned away, unable to watch what Robert was doing. Robert starting to thrust in and out of his daughter but kept watching Andrea instead, “Remember when we used to do this?” he asked. “Remember what that was like? You feel wet or you still dry as a bone? Need me to spit on it again? The girls… What point is a daughter if not for this? You and your broken cunt… Good for nothing… Dry as a desert. You gonna keep watching or you gonna get dinner sorted? Clean up after what your daughter did? Run along and let me finish teaching her a lesson,” he hissed like a man possessed — thrusting hard with each sentence spat.

Andrea turned and ran from the room in floods of tears. She knew there was no point in trying to talk him down now. She knew that, once in one of his moods, there was no talking him down. You just had to let him get on with what he wanted to do or else feel his wrath too.

Johnny stormed into the dining room and slammed the door behind him. Without taking the time to look around the room he punched the wall as hard as he could — in his mind the plaster was his father. In his mind the crack in the plaster was a crack in his father’s face. The blood, from his knuckles, also belonged to his dad — in his fragile mind. He hit the wall again. And again. Each punch working out more of his frustration and anger at not being able to stand up to his own father. He knew someone had to. He knew someone had to put him in his place. For the sake of the family. He just wished he were strong enough. He went to swing at the wall again and suddenly froze when something, in the room, caught his eye. Slowly he turned to face the dining room table; a large oak table in the middle of the room with enough chairs, around it, to seat the entire family.