307: Trading Places

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Dear Patrons,

Forgive me for the hiatus. It was a well needed one, but because of this, I know I am behind the updates. For this, I have provided a moratorium for members whose subscription has lapsed the past month as I try to catch up. With this tale, I wanted to post an update of quality once again, which is why this time, I have put back on my storytelling hat with another narrative update. This time, an expansion on the story, THE PAINTED BIRD OF LOST CARCOSA.

Bon appétit.

The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred. 

I. THE PAINTED BIRD AND HER JUST REWARDS

The intern approached the carcass with a sense of dread. He approached from the rear, except that there was nothing left where the groin should be. It would seem that it had been claimed. Flanking the gaping hole, the legs were strung up and spread wide, obscenely inviting and purposefully degrading, lifted high above her body which was laid on a scarred antique butcher's block that bore signs of past misuses. The way Beth had fought and defied the hunters, this was a wrong way to die. He could not see her head over at the other side of the block, but as he worked his way around the gruesome display, some of her tattoos came into view and there could be no mistake. The beautifully intricate flowers on her shoulder, part of her rib tattoo that would say "Fearless" but what was visible only displayed "Fear". No doubt, that was his friend, partners in crime, his beloved office crush. He didn't need to see the face to know that Beth had lost the game.

At once, that ominous half-message that tattoo displayed at a portent of his dominant emotion. Fear. fear swept over him, amongst a complexed mixture of other conflicting emotions. Incredulity. Guilt. Nervousness. Even excitement. And was there an English word for this unique sensation to describe the numb shock seeing a dead body for the first time? A word to describe a door that opened into an inviting darkness through which horrors like beyond where all his life he had been living an innocent lie in the light? If not, there should be a new word for this. The Germans were usually good at these types of words without a simple translation. Like Schadenfreude. Joy from the misery of others. Was that what he was also feeling now? A relief of being alive while his friend lay dead?

The past two days had been a whirlwind of events that his head could not wrap around. Two days ago, he was joking with Beth and happy for her coming promotion for uncovering gross negligence and financial mismanagement within Kronos Logistics. Flattered that she trusted him enough to ask to accompany him along this company trip. And two days later, here she lay. Violated. Bloodless. Emptied. Hollowed. Meat.

He kept repeating to himself that he had no choice. Yes, really. He just had no choice. His consciousness a mere passenger on a frightening roller-coaster set on a predestined path. He was just there for the ride. Say yes and live with strings attached, but alive, and well rewarded nonetheless with bounties of sin. Or say no, cling to his morals and die like a martyr. Deader than a rusty doorknob like his boss, or worse, like Beth. How does a mid-sized office explain the permanent absence of two of them, or potentially three if that includes himself? 

No, this was no Hollywood ending. The final girl was not supposed to die. Beth was brave, she fought hard enough to earn her freedom. She was a heroine. This was not supposed to happen at all! Beth was the better half, but it is better to be a coward who lives than the fearless who dies? "Fearless". That tattoo again.

If the intern had been religious, this is when he would start praying to the Lord Almighty for guidance. What is an atheist to do when there is no Jesus to fill his life? Of course another takes its place. A darkness emerges to him bearing forgiveness and gifts of unspeakable evil.

He was up to her now within touching distance. He was never this close to a dead body before and was surprised at how nonchalant he felt. A cold dead human body lay on the antique wooden butcher's block, legs opened up to him like grand gated pillars flanking a valley of arterial red and pale yellow slickness. He was mesmerized at the colors of her inner anatomy. There was a little blue and purple inside her... even grey. Wasn't it all supposed to be all red like in the movies? He was surprised at how bloodless the carcass looked. Appetizing even, like freshly butchered pork at the deli. Was that how the inner hollows of the human body looked like? It must be, for he was there witnessing it in the flesh. Beth's most intimate parts no man has ever seen before now lay exposed... soft, slick, vulnerable and pliant. His nervous hand reached out slowly to touch, trembling, how about here, at the open wound just above her inner thigh?

His fingers drew closer and closer. Until... The moment of contact was electric! He pulled back immediately in shock. It was cold and wet to the touch. He had touched bare muscle without a woman's smooth skin between! Unreal. And he reached out once again, this time, unflinching as his fingers returned to probe the inner muscles of her exposed perineum, this time, more adventurous as his fingers explored the crevices and the marbling of her meat and fat.

In life, she would have never let him touch her, not even a hug, but a fist bump... but now he could reach out and touch the parts no man would ever touch in one's lifetime. How many times one could say he's touched the exposed meat of a human body, behind the pussy and asshole that isn't there anymore. Cored out and hollowed out like a slaughtered sow.

He worked his way up towards her chest... running his fingers on the rhythmic rippled ridges of her exposed ribs. His hand was literally inside her. Where once it housed her offal, lungs, heart, among other organs now lay empty and barren, lying in a bucket somewhere else in the room, until her head came into view. He had to be sure... and it looked like her. That familiar face had finally came into view and his heart sank once again. Another confirmation, that this was Beth. Her head, upside down, lifeless, glazed stare staring into the beyond.

He looked into her eyes... at her blank gaze... you are here with me, but you are so far away. But Beth had always been like this. Here, but also her head and heart would sometimes be far away. It had always been the case with Beth. She was here, but you can sense her head was also somewhere else... That had always been her even in life. That was what made her attractive to him, elusive. He always thought of her playing hard to get, the same way she fought against the hunters.

But that was all gone now. Permanently. Where have you gone? He thought about where the soul goes after death. Was part of her still in there? And if she would be consumed, would a little of her be part of him forever? With the back of his hand, he caressed Beth's cheek.

Hello? Are you in there? If you are, for what it's worth... I'm so sorry. I had no choice. Please forgive me.

Like a magnet drawn, his eyes moved to the rest of her body. Her strong shoulders, her fleshy arms. Those little peach fuzz hairs on her, the strong legs... the bruises from the fight, her pert feet and cute little toes that helped her survive in the forest just a little longer than most of the hunters had expected. 

He thought of the banquet to come. That was what they had planned for her. He looked at her naked flesh. Thick muscles... her tattooed skin. They were going to eat her. And "he" was going to join in! He let those words sit on his tongue for a while. Will he now be one of the ranks who had the rare privilege of hunting and eating a human being? It admittedly gave him a power trip. Complete conquest over another woman especially one so beautiful and feisty. Having a full view of her split open corpse, the yellow fat and red pinkish muscle, he already had a preview of what her meat looked like. And he would be lying to himself if he said that the flesh didn't look edible. Appetizing even. He wondered what part of her they would let him eat. Her forearm? Her ass? Or her meaty thigh, maybe the one with the liberty bell tattoo? Would they even let him choose? Are they gourmands who eat the hands and feet too? Or do they discard them? 

Morals be damned, he could get used to this. The coercion and threat of life made that realisation a pill that was easier to swallow. Again, he had no choice after all. And if he had felt pleasure in eating her, it wasn't his fault. If she had tasted delicious, could anyone blame him? Blame the flesh, blame Beth for being caught. Blame Beth for looking delicious. Blame Beth for being made of meat. Edible, delicious meat.

He sensed presence behind him. The Nimrods were behind him... a warm hand laid on his left shoulder. An indication that they will take her now. His time alone with his friend was over.

Bethany. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry for having these thoughts. Goodbye.

He turned back and one of the hunters had already begun to unbuckle his pants. Some chose to remain clothed as they approached. They came upon her corpse like ravenous vultures but not with a literal hunger just yet, but carnal. They moved to rape her even after in death. They had no misgivings about fucking the meat especially after what she had done to them. They wanted to humiliate her completely. Could he bear to watch them do that to his friend? Rape her dead corpse.

Image 1: (1 complete colored artwork)

He looked away at first, but he surprised himself when he returned his attention to the proceedings and like that first touch of her exposed flesh, he didn't flinch. He watched them all surround her. There were moments her head was in view, those dead accusing eyes cursing him. You betrayed me, he heard her silent scream. He couldn't even manifest the thought in his head as he looked into Beth's big beautiful eyes. They were going to eat her. He was going to eat her. Ho... Before he could complete his thought, one of the men with dick in hand mercifully blocked his view. Her mouth would scream for help, but now it was plugged by the cannibal's cock.

They all moved around her, touching and feeling, licking and tasting, a preview to the feast, lust glaze in their eyes. Old man tongue on young fresh body. Saliva on her tattoos. Her feet sucked on. She would have fought back. Beth, please fight back. But no. She lay still. Defenceless against their unholy transgressions. The heroine of this story is dead. Her cored out privates violated as if her imaginary pussy was still there. It was a full on butcher's bukkake and this is no fairy tale ending.

Image 2: (1 complete colored artwork)

It feels like there should be a stronger word for this heinous act. The rape of a dead corpse before you are about to eat it. Another word that the Germans should have but this was so unreal that he was certain there was no official word for what he was witnessing in any language.

As the proceedings were winding down and a few of the men had fill of their pleasures, a tall figure was up beside him. He dared not look at the man, but he already knew who he was.

The Patriarch.

He handed the intern the head of a hose.

He did not hear him speak the words but he knew what he was tasked to do. The meat must be clean before cooking. And his hands would lay on Beth's body once again. But this time, his fingers would not be shy.

-- the end? --

Image 3-4: (2 finished colored artwork alternate versions without tattoo)

Image 5-6: (2 works in progress of the previous artworks)

II. DOOMED RAIDER

Here are a pair of scenes of the feasting in the DOOMED RAIDER project.

Image 7-8: (2 colored works in progress)

III. THE AGONY OF DEFEAT

The waiters present to the diners the meal for perusal before the cooking.

Image 9: (1 colored work in progress of a similar scene)

IV. THE MERMAID

Scene variations from an upcoming tropical/beach themed project called "The Mermaid". 

Image 10-13: (4 works in progress of a similar scene)

V. BONUS SKETCH

A simple pair of sketches, the Maillot Cut, halved into two pairs, breast to breast against each other.

Image 14: (1 black & white sketch)