Matt Shaw - Consumed

“I’m ashamed you’re my father,” Johnny said. Had Robert turned around he’d have seen that Johnny was holding an extremely large knife.

“The question is, though…” said Robert whilst preparing another piece of Hayley’s flesh for mastication, “…are you as ashamed of me as I am of you? My own son… Disloyal… Disobedient… Disappointing…”

“Coming from a rapist? You fuck your own daughter,” Johnny hissed.

“Daughters!” Suzanne pointed out.

Robert stood upright. He had no idea Suzanne was standing next to Johnny. Slowly he turned around as he popped the next piece of skin into his mouth. He saw Tammy was there too.

Johnny looked at Suzanne, “I had no idea,” he said.

“It’s not something you brag about.”

“You’re standing with him?” Robert asked. He spotted the knife, “And what do you plan to do with that? Oh I see. You’ve come to put an end to my evil ways…”

“You’re not our father. You haven’t been for a long time,” said Johnny.

“Oh? So who am I?” asked Robert — trying his best to hide his smirk.

“Wendigo!” Tammy pointed out.

“Wendigo?” Robert laughed.

Tammy nodded.

“You’re not well,” Suzanne whispered.

“You want to know where I went yesterday? I left. I had a bag packed and I jumped into my car. I left here. I left you all. The only reason I came back is because the car broke down…”

Robert stared at her with a look of contempt on his face. How dare his own children talk to him as though he were mentally ill. After the briefest of silences he asked, “You think I’m ill?”

“You have been for a long time,” said Johnny as he took a step forward with the knife clutched firmly in his hand.

“You think I need to be put out of my misery?” Robert went on to ask.

“It ends. Now.” Johnny said.

“Yes,” his father agreed, “I do believe it does.” He smiled. “Well, come on then boy, make your move.”

Johnny paused. He looked at his sisters for encouragement — a sign that it was still the right thing to do. They both were watching their father intently. He guessed that, if either of them were opposed to the idea, they’d have already said something.

“There is just one thing though,” said Robert, “if I really am Wendigo, as you all seem to suspect, how do you think a knife is going to kill me? I mean, we’re supposed to have hearts of ice… Us Wendigo monsters… The only way to kill us is with a hot bullet through the heart. Do you remember anything I taught you?”

Johnny hesitated for a moment or two. Long enough for Robert to lunge forward and plunge his own knife straight into Johnny’s heart. Suzanne and Tammy screamed whilst Johnny just stood there with a startled look upon his face. He opened his mouth, as though he wanted to say something, but no words came — just blood trickling down his chin.

“You’re no son of mine,” hissed Robert as the life faded from Johnny’s clouding eyes. He let go of the knife — his own bodyweight stopping Johnny from dropping to the floor — and Johnny dropped to his knees. Knees first and then face forward; the force of the handle hitting the floor so hard it made the tip of the knife stick out of Johnny’s back. Robert spat on Johnny’s body and turned to his daughters who just stood there — too scared to do, or try, anything. “I believe it’s dinner time,” he whispered; a tone so threatening they didn’t dare to make a move of their own. He pushed past the girls and out of the barn.

“What now?” asked Tammy.

“Please… I won’t tell anyone… Please… Just let me go… Please… I beg you…” Charlotte was squirming against the restraints which kept her bound to the table where Johnny had previously left her. She was positioned, in such a way, on the table that her head was in front of Robert who was sitting at the head of the table, casually tucking a napkin into the top of his shirt — no doubt in preparation for unavoidable crumbs being spilt.

Andrea was sitting at the other end of the table — the raw deal as she had the end with Charlotte’s feet. Tammy and Suzanne were sitting on the sides, opposite one another. There was an empty seat where Johnny and Stephen should have been. The girls, and Andrea, were weeping for Johnny.

“Am I to presume Stephen didn’t want any part of your plan?” Robert asked as he continued adjusting his napkin. “I take it his body is somewhere around the house?” The girls didn’t answer. “A shame. He was a good son. At least I was able to count on one child out of four.” He looked to Andrea, “Did you know of their plan?” he asked — all the time trying to ignore the pleas of Charlotte.

“I swear, I didn’t…”

“Perhaps you even put them up to it?” he interrupted her.

Charlotte screamed.

“I suppose I have been strict,” he continued ignoring Charlotte’s scream as though he were used to it, “but I have been so for your own good. I had to protect the family. What I did… What I do… It’s always been for the good of the family as a collective. But I don’t suppose you give a shit, do you?”

“Please…” Charlotte whispered looking directly at Robert.

He finally snapped, “I’m trying to have a conversation with my family,” he hissed. “You trying to talk over the top of me… It’s rude… Very fucking rude… Now… I’d be eternally grateful if you’d shut up. Food should be eaten and not heard!” He addressed the rest of the family, “Right now we should be eating as kings and queens. All of us. A family. A real family. Enough food to last us for months but you’ve all played your part in ruining that for each of us.”

“I won’t tell anyone… I won’t….I promise…” Charlotte pressed her luck. “Whatever I’ve done… I’m sorry.”

“It’s nice to get fresh food eaten like this,” Robert sighed, “but it’s a real pain in the arse when it doesn’t know its place and continues to yak. Shut… Up….” he bellowed.

“Maybe we should just eat,” said Andrea. “It might make us feel better.”

“For once we agree upon something,” said Robert. He leaned forward until his face was nearly touching Charlotte’s, “Now you can start screaming,” he told her.

He sat upright and put his hand over one of Charlotte’s eyes. As soon as his skin touched her’s she let out a little scream of fright. A louder scream followed when he dug his fingers into her eye-socket. By the time he removed them, he had her left eye in the palm of his hand. Charlotte’s screams got louder and louder — the pain from her eye so unbearable she probably didn’t notice the girls were pulling back her finger nails in a tried and tested method for removing them completely so they wouldn’t get stuck in their throats. Robert slid the eyeball into his mouth and held it there for a second before pressing down with his teeth to the satisfying sound of a pop. A little juice squirted down his chin much to his amusement. He had barely swallowed when he pressed his hand back against Charlotte’s face.

“What’s happening down there?” Joel asked from the darkness of the room where he was trapped with Lara and Stephen.

“It’s dinner time,” Stephen answered as though it were all perfectly normal.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Dinner time…”

“That sounds like Charlotte,” said Lara — her voice quivering with fright. “What are they doing to her? What’s happening?”

“I’m more concerned with how come they’re eating and yet I’m still locked in here,” said Stephen. He stumbled his way, through the blackness, to the locked door and started to bang on it as Charlotte screamed on downstairs. “Hello? Anyone? Come on! I’m hungry too! Why aren’t you letting me out? A joke’s a joke… Come on!”