hungry (chapter 10)

The pain in my stomach, the way it feels, it’s as if its eating itself.
I’ve been locked up here in the priest’s room for, what seems like, days now.
The priest, he’s still sitting propped up where I left him. The pillow still over his head. He hasn’t spoke to me in a few hours. When I look over at him I notice cockroaches moving beneath his clothes.
I haven’t heard anything from the other side of the door. I really need to know what is going on downstairs, the curiosity is killing me. That, and I miss Emily.
“She doesn’t love you, you know.”
Shut up, I know you are only my imagination.
“Yeah, maybe. But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
I was just getting used to the piece and quiet. My stomach, the way it feels now, its as if tearing internally, leaking my stomach acid onto my organs.
The noise its making, its like a dying cat, the one that curiosity killed.
“So are you going to kill them?”
I’m pacing the room. I’m holding my stomach. Every so often I stop, listen, then go back to pacing. The pain in my stomach, the way it feels, its as if I have bugs crawling around in it.
And if I kill them, then what? I say.
“Kill yourself.”
I can see his logic. But I’m none too keen for it.
I tell him, suicide’s a sin isn’t it?
“So is cannibalism,” he says. “So is murder.”
Maybe its my imagination but I swear I can smell meat cooking. Maybe it’s Tony meat. Maybe not. I look at the finger bone on the floor, picked clean some time ago. By me.
“She is probably down there with Ben. Or Sarah. Maybe both. All of them in some big orgy. Plotting to eat you, then celebrating by sodomizing Emily.”
Shut up.
The pain in my stomach, the way it feels, its as if my intestines are being pulled through my belly button.
Plotting against me. I remember the way Ben was watching me. The way Sarah and Emily were looking at me. That look in their eyes. With me gone they would have to eat one of their own. Who would it be? Not Sarah, she’s proving too smart. Not Ben, he has the axe. Its either me or Emily.
Or I could do it. Kill them.
Kill them and save her. Then she and I could escape, get our strength up and leave. Travel light, find food. Real food I mean, not people.
But if I’m going to kill them I’m going to need strength. I look at the priest. I walk over and pull back the pillow case.
The way he looks now, his eyes have rolled up into his head. They seem to be shrivelling. Out of his mouth, a cockroach runs out and across his lips.
“What are you doing?”
His teeth are all beginning to come loose, the gums are shrinking back, making them look long and ragged.
“Get away from me.”
I grab his head, vice like, between my two palms.
I’m sorry father, I say.
I know the priest is dead. I know, I killed him. I know its just a trick of my mind, they way he is talking to me, pleading with me not to do whatever it is I am about to do. But it seems so real.
In my head I can hear him begging me. I’m pretty sure its in my head.
“No, please. No, don’t. Don’t do this.”
With his head between my hands, the way I’m holding it is like you would hold a football. Or a coconut. I then smash his head against the wall. Once, twice, three times and his head makes a splintering sound. Four, five, six times and his head splits open, beneath my hands I feel it shifting. Seven, eight, nine, and on the tenth hit it finally comes apart.
The priest isn’t making any sound now. All I can hear is my own breath, heavy.
I take my right hand and I force it into the opening in the priest’s skull. The insides of his head is all around my fingers. Its cool rubbery-soft. I pry open his head and I’m tearing, then scooping out a handful of his brains. I put it in my mouth and chew and chew and chew. I can feel some of it dribble down my chin, plop into my lap.
I dip my hands in and out of his head repeatedly, sucking him off my fingers each time until his head is a hollow shell. In my lap is a small amount of brain, but I’m full so I brush it to the floor.
I stand up and move over to the door. My stomach, the way it feels right now, is satisfied. Too full, if anything. Now, I am ready. As I unlock the door I resolve myself, its them or me. With the priest in my belly I walk out the door.
Out, to do God’s work.

hungry (chapter 10)

Wordslinger

Brisbane, Australia

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