Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Chapter 4d: Drummen's Feast

Drummen stood in the dark, staring straight ahead as drops of water fell from the ceiling. The dirty water had risen halfway up his thigh in the last half hour, almost over the lip of his worn leather boots. The water didn't concern him; he hardly noticed it. Only food concerned him now. Only flesh could satisfy his hunger, and blood to quench his thirst.

He couldn't eat yet. No, not yet. He had to wait. The Voice told him to wait for the others. They would arrive soon. To calm his hungers the Voice gave him dreams. Glorious visions. In these dreams he could feel his teeth sinking into soft flesh. The taste of warm blood spraying into the air and flowing around his mouth and gums; sliding, like thin honey, down his throat as he chewed and swallowed.

In the visions, his victims screamed as he ate them alive. The noise meant nothing more to him than the sound of the water dripping into the rising liquid around him. The screams were accompanied by a chuckle, the Voice laughing in the background. They struggled ineffectually as he grasped their shoulders, sinking his teeth into the side of their neck. He should have recognized many of the faces, his mother and the girl of his dreams being two of the victims, but they had become nothing more than blank templates, more food to appease his ever-growing hunger.

Perhaps the dreams weren't quite as good as actually feasting. He would know as soon as the others arrived. With the others, his brothers and sisters, he would hunt the warm flesh. He would bask in the red blood, and he would suck on the marrow of bones. His eyes rolled back and he shivered as the dreams continued to give him an ecstasy he had never found in life, a fulfillment greater than drink and more erotic than sex.

It was unfortunate that he really couldn't understand any of it.

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