Let the Feast Begin

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“…Modern Halloween has become more about the costumes and candy and less about literal ghosts and ghouls. This day was used to mark the end of the harvest season and the beginning of winter, and it was also believed that this transition between the seasons was a bridge to the world of the dead…”

 

I kept my eyes glued to the screen and read each line with great attention. The oven beeped, indicating that my meat had been cooked; that too, right on time, given my growling stomach.

 

I opened my Facebook timeline and checked out the number of likes on my recent post. It had already crossed a two-digit figure.

 

I checked for any new friend requests and was surprised, and a bit pleased to see a particular name. I had met him at the grocery store and we had quickly fallen in sync. I accepted his request and went to grab the meat along with some new kind of sauce that I had bought from the market.

 

I dipped a forkful of meat into the sauce and put it in my mouth, wanting to relish the taste as much as possible. It tasted bland and I couldn’t help the grimace on my face. I have never quite liked these sauces from the market. I grabbed the bottle of my favorite dip kept on the table, opened it, and immediately, the sharp rustic smell of it, hit me hard.

 

I ate the rest of my meal with that dip and it was, by far, one of the best I had ever had.

 

After cleaning away all the bits and washing the utensils, I got back to my Facebook profile. I had a new message, from him. We chatted the whole day and most of the night and planned to meet in a café, the next day.

 

Conversations turned into frequent meetings and slowly we became inseparable. He was madly in love with me. I was crazy for him.

 

God! His smell was such a turn-on. Every time he came closer, I could barely keep my hands away from him. Nibbles on his neck and bites on his ears … a whiff of his cologne and the savor of his lips; everything! Everything just made me want to taste him more.

 

But the most mesmerizing, were his sea-green eyes. I could never get enough of them. I felt lucky, cherished even, to know that they were mine.

 

We decided that we wanted to take our relation to the next step. It was a Halloween party and he dressed up as Count Dracula, complete with fake blood and false teeth. God! The costume made me want him even more.

 

We danced a bit, and then came back to my place.

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His eyes were filled with lust as I led him to the room, slowly pulling away his costume, piece by piece. His hands wandered over my body, feeling my curves and crevices and exciting me enough to make me hurry my steps.

 

Soon he lay completely bare on my bed, his hands and legs tied to the bed-post. He smirked as I gagged his mouth with a cloth, and his eyes grew murkier. I climbed over him and kissed every part of his body like it was the last thing I wanted. His eyes closed in pleasure and he arched his neck backwards in order to give me more coverage on his neck.

 

I got the axe from under the bed and in one swift move, I cut his head. Blood splattered all over my face as well as on the bed. I quickly dashed to grab the bottle from the table, lest even a drop of my favorite dip was wasted. Then I slowly and steadily cut his body parts, one by one, into small pieces enough to fit the microwave.

 

I cleaned up all the mess and put the edible parts into the oven.

 

I opened my laptop and checked my mail. Tickets had been confirmed.

 

The oven beeped, indicating that my meat had been cooked. I had a delicious second, and probably the last meal in the city, cleaned up the bits, and washed the utensils.

 

Then I picked up my bags and left. I wanted to taste Italian now.


Image Source : flickr.com


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