by Rob Bliss
Skood removed his grip from me, picked up my knife and fork, stuck them into my hands, wrapped my fingers around them. The cutlery shook as it hovered over the piece of inked meat. Venus wrapped an arm around my shoulders and covered my hands with her own. Like a mother to her young son, she helped me cut off a piece of skin and lift it to my mouth.
“Eat for mama, baby,” she cooed. “Grow big and strong. That’s a good boy.”
The flap of skin sat on my tongue. Venus giggled as she closed my lower jaw, then lifted my wine glass to my lips, washed the meat down my numb throat. Then she helped my puppet hands cut another piece and wash that down too.
“Just think of it as a kind of pork,” she said, cutting a piece of the serpent’s body, slipping it to the back of my mouth. My gag reflex spasmed and I coughed out the morsel onto my plate. “You like pork, don’t you?” She put it back into my mouth with her own fork, feeding me like a baby. The cutlery dropped and clattered onto the plate, though my hands hung in the air and trembled. “Eat pork Paco. A Paco taco! Devour your enemy. Cannibalism is not wrong—it’s the banquet we give to ourselves. It is the forbidden fruit of Eden. The food of the gods is Mankind. The family feeds with the sustenance of itself. And its enemies, of course.”
She continued to feed me until no skin was left. I swallowed it all. My stomach roiled with the forbidden meat inside me, but it didn’t feel nauseous. It was as though my stomach—my body—had finally eaten something it had always desired. As Venus had said—the food of the gods. I craved more.
My wine goblet was filled, so I drained it in one swallow, then it was filled again. Venus showed me an immense ring on her finger: a blue jewel in a gold setting bearing intricate designs and symbols. Like the one I had seen on Poppy’s finger. She popped open the jewel to reveal a cupped recess filled with red powder.
“This will help, sweetie,” she said as she raised the ring to my nose. “There’s some in all the wine, of course, but there’s nothing like undiluted red cocaine.”
She put a finger against one of my nostrils and coaxed me to snort. I did, wanting to be drugged up, drunk, gorging myself on any kind of meat in order to forget where I was and what was happening around me. A rush hit hard into my sinuses, crashing a pink light against the back of my skull. I felt awake and alive, the lights in the immense room bright, details vivid—designs on the handles of knives and forks, the flow of the wood grain on the table, the pinprick particles of gold dust on Venus’ nipples.
I was hungry for many things all at once, including her. I plunged my face into her cleavage, sucked her nipple deep between into my mouth, scraped my teeth across the nubbin of flesh, bit into it.
“Yes, baby,” she moaned. “Suckle mommy…feed off my body.”
She held my head against her chest, shivers racing across her hot skin, shooting up the length of her tight neck tendons, her eyelids fluttering. I felt myself grow quickly hard and ripped open the flap on my pants. She must’ve heard the sound because her hand found my cock and began stroking it.
“Oh yes, baby, just a little pleasure,” she sighed. “There will be time for more later, not to worry. The bedroom will be months of training all by itself.” She took her hand from under the table and pushed my head off her breast. Her eyes were liquid fire. “Feast on your enemy now…then later you can feast on me.”
So I did. My nerves calm, hands steady with feeling returned as they took up the knife and fork and attacked the beast—my enemy, fucking shithead Paco—in front of me. I couldn’t satiate my hunger enough, and soon dropped the cutlery to tear pieces off the cooked corpse with my hands. Ripping strips of flesh with my teeth, plunging an arm through the cavity made by Gitch to root around for hidden delicacies. I wanted to eat all of him, to eat his bones, his soul. Much of my face was covered with Venus’ cleavage henna and Paco’s sticky juice. I craved the sweet reek of barbecued human flesh in my nostrils.
“Good baby,” Venus whispered, scooting closer to me, wrapping an arm around my waist. “There’s no such thing as excess. Not in this family.” She took my hand and saw that something was missing. She glanced over at Gord. “Hey, fuckhead—give my groom your ring!” Gord instantly obeyed without looking at her. I hadn’t seen that Gord sported a similar ring to that of Venus and Poppy. He slipped the coke ring off and passed it to Venus’ reaching hand. She put it on my finger as though right there, at the dinner table in front of a barbecued human corpse, we were fully married. She flipped open the blue jewel to show me white cocaine. “That’s the weak stuff, for day-to-day use.” Puffing her cheeks, she blew the white cocaine into the air, then snapped her fingers and Gitch handed her a small platter of red coke. She manipulated my hand to scoop the ring into the powder and fill it full. Snapped it closed. The excess, which had fallen to the table and on the sleeve of my jacket, she snorted. Her eyes smiled into mine. “We do nothing normal. Normal is for the outside world. We’re inside the heart of the real world.”
She scooped more red coke into her ring, lifted it to my nostril for me to snort, then refilled it again from Gitch’s tiny platter. My head felt like glass which had shattered into crystal shards of cocaine. I was scrambled.
My lips felt numb, as though they were hanging off my chin, but I managed to ask, “Why’s it red?”
“Blood, my dear. The family’s genetically-pure blood.” She winked and kissed the air at me. “Gives it that extra kick, doesn’t it?”
Then the world stopped for a small pause. Movement slowed down as time warped. The blood in the coke must’ve had the opposite effect of an upper. Everything still moved—Gord still fed his face, Poppy still sat with his feet propped up on the table drinking from an endless goblet of wine, Gorman still stared down the length of the table, chewing slowly like a cow with its cud, and the bridesmaids still picked at their food, wiping their mouths with slow napkins, watching me lustfully. Venus still stroked my back like a mother proud of her son…
…and I saw what it was all about.
I saw what Gord had seen, the thing that had tempted him into this family, acting without reason or fear of consequence. Originally, I thought he had been thinking with his dick, hypnotized by Venus’ beauty and sexuality. But that was only a part of the whole.
Addiction. The freedom to become addicted to everything, to indulge beyond your limits…there was no such thing as excess in this family, as my bride mentioned. Venus must have triggered my epiphany. There was no law to prevent any of them from doing everything—including killing. I had killed a bridesmaid in front of a room full of people—and they cheered. I was doing on stage what the family were also doing in the vast room. Eating human meat, snorting shitloads of coke (or drinking coke-laced wine). I recalled the Black Betty pill which Gord had given me back at his place…so long ago…that enabled me to do all the coke and pot and drink all the booze I wanted without being crippled by the after-effects. The high remained, but the consequences were erased. The party went on, and I didn’t have to worry about paying for my excess. And, apparently, this pill would last for five years! That would be a long time to stay high and not pay for one’s pleasure.
Wasn’t that what Venus said about why I was chosen to be her husband instead of Gord? He hadn’t proven himself to be evil enough. Had I won? Was I naturally evil enough for this evil family? (What the hell kind of monster was I?)
There was no law because the family was the law. I understood them instinctively, down to my bones, to my soul. They had spread themselves across the world, not in order to control the world, but to allow themselves ultimate freedom without repression—protected by their own kind in every corner of the globe.
They lived in a bubble, but it was a bubble like the Garden of Eden. Who would want to exchange it for the real world and all its misery and pain? The family was bulletproof. Like any cult, cabal, secret society, mafia—once in, it was damn hard to get out. But sometimes inside kept you alive longer than if you existed on your own.
Gord was alone when h
e had met Venus.
So was I.
Prey for the black widow.
— | — | —
Chapter 13
I didn’t want to escape anymore, even after realizing the purpose and essence of the family. If anything, I wanted to stay. For life. I was happy that I had been chosen to be Venus’ groom over Gord, glad that he had spoiled his chances with such a small, stupid error. A true prospective member would’ve never comprised the family in such a way. (A new member of the mafia doesn’t go around saying, “Hi, I’m a member of the mafia,” and expect to stay alive much longer. No wonder Gord had shit his pants when he mentioned the Swamp Hotel.) The family was all; the individual was nothing. Gord was a fool. The strongest survive, and I was strong, made so in part by Venus and the promises of absolute freedom which the family gave me.
And I understood why Gord had tried to screw me and his family over, by handing us over to the family for whatever purpose. It was his attempt at evil. To betray his birth family and a best friend for the sake of his bride. Even if that meant death for his loved ones. Evil, but not evil enough. Passive evil—Gord would just get us to the West Coast, but it would be Venus who would do all the hard work of transforming us into family members. Once Venus saw a truly evil person—me—she took her advantage. Out with the old, weak-willed husband, and in with the new.
Pure evil was pure freedom.
I asked myself: wasn’t that what I had always wanted? What everyone wants? Pure freedom. I didn’t think there was such a thing. All the literature I had read, all the philosophy, was about the search for that freedom…and the perpetual failure of Mankind to find it. There was no such place as the Garden of Eden. So the family created their own paradise instead of wasting time and life searching for it. Create what you cannot find, and then protect it with your life.
I hated Gord a little bit, not for trying to betray me, but for giving up such a gift. But I could understand why he would change himself, transform his life, become almost unrecognizable from the friend I once had in order to obtain paradise on the West Coast.
It was my paradise now, and he was in hell. I loved Venus and would do anything for her.
When dinner was over, all of us moved into another room, a vast hall of wood, tall windows looking out to a surrounding forest. Huge chandeliers made of stag’s antlers, with a bear’s head centering each, hanging from the ceiling. Tall iron candlesticks with three-foot-tall tapers helped light the hall. A broad dance floor of dark and light wooden planks in a chessboard pattern took up most of the hall. Thick leather sofas and plush chairs lined three of the four walls. The fourth was taken up by a table as long as the room—a bar holding every type of alcohol, with many punch bowls of red cocaine. Smaller dishes were filled with pills of every color, easily mistaken for candy, their effects unknown (at least by me) until one popped a pill to feel its effects. I finally understood the need for Gord’s truck filled with sandbags. I wondered if it would be enough for the crowd. No such thing as excess, after all.
Children were not allowed at the reception. They were taken home, put to bed, a grandparent babysitting. If it took a village to raise a child, then the family was a city. No shortage of babysitters, to say the least.
The guests aimed for the bar first, naturally. Venus handed me a flute of champagne and we toasted and kissed. I told her I loved her, that I submitted fully to her.
“Ah, that’s sweet,” she said with a condescending smile and a sip of champagne.
I felt a jolt of panic. She didn’t say she loved me back. And perhaps I had just done what she hated Gord for—submitting easily to her.
I backtracked. “What I meant was…I’m glad to be a part of this family. I want this. Thank you for choosing me.”
She giggled and kissed the tip of my nose. “Don’t be afraid. We’re married now. I won’t kill you so soon.”
I forced a laugh as she walked away, went behind the bar, had Skood help her remove the back brace that held the bear head high over her own head. I approached to watch. The bear skin had to be removed first, leaving the wooden brace. She turned and I saw her back. It appeared as though the main dowel support of the brace was stuck into her back. The wooden dowels were sharpened and pierced her flesh, under the muscle. No blood. She had been literally wearing the brace—sunken into her body. And she felt no pain.
The magic that swam through her body was still a mystery to me. An incestuous, psychotic cabal that stretched around the world was one thing. Within the realm of possibility—human, in fact, though mad. But how could such a people command magic? I did and did not want to find out.
Once people had their choice of poison, they mingled, took up places on sofas and chairs, came up to me and Venus to congratulate us on our marriage. Faces smiled at me when, before, they had growled and threatened. I recognized some of the Canadian cousins and a few people I had seen on main street when I was strolling for a breath of fresh air. All of them said “Welcome to the family” as though it was a password into an exclusive club.
Gord’s family came up to congratulate me. Smiling, but I could see fear and confusion in their eyes.
“It’s good to see you again, son,” Pa said. “This sure is some wedding. Never been to one like it before. I guess these folks are big hunters.” He gazed up at the chandeliers, the bear heads and stag horns.
“Yeah, looks like it,” I replied, my emotions as contained as his were.
Ma hugged me and stayed close, keeping her voice low. “Honestly, Chris, I just don’t understand these people.” She tightened the bear cloak around her, a shiver shaking her nude body. “They dressed us up in these things, said we had to—it was their custom. What custom is this? And they flew us out here, put us up in this house. A creepy mansion, if you ask me. They said we wouldn’t need to bring anything; all would be provided. I bought a new dress for this—they told me not to wear it. I said it was for my son’s wedding. But then he didn’t get married—you did. What’s happening?” she asked in whisper of panic.
I looked down at the tears floating along the rims of her eyes, felt a pang of sorrow for her, but not as much as perhaps I should have. Just told myself that she was confused. We were a long way from home.
I rubbed her shoulder. “It’s nothing to worry about. Gord and I have shared girlfriends before, you remember? It didn’t work out between him and Venus, that’s all it is. You got a free wedding out of it. I say just relax and enjoy yourself.” I smiled like a used car salesman, only half believing my own lies.
She stepped away from me, wrapping the bear cloak tighter, retreating into her husband’s arm. Gord’s brother, Kevin, shook my hand and had an authentic beaming smile on his face. He let his bear cloak hang open proudly.
“This is some fucked-up party, buddy! I love it!” He sniffed, so I could tell that he had already been to a punchbowl. “There’s a lot of gorgeous girls here—I think I fell in love about twenty times since I’ve been here. I just might stay and be in the next wedding!”
He laughed and I laughed with him.
“Congrats, Kev, sounds great. I hope you do marry into the family. We’ll be brothers-in-law.”
He hugged me with one arm. “Wouldn’t that be weird? After all these years, we join families. Hell, I always thought you were going to marry my sister.” He and I smiled at Elizabeth, who gave a weak smile back, brushed off the remark and turned away.
Kevin leaned into my ear to whisper, “I wouldn’t mind getting a piece of those bridesmaids. Both of them. Even the one you killed looked good dead! If she’s still warm, I say she’s still good to go.”
He wheezed a smoker’s laugh and coughed as he slapped me hard on the back. He was getting into the swing of things, obviously. Considering necrophilia. A future family member, easily. He wandered off back to the bar to freshen his nose and get a drink.
Elizabeth stared at me, arms hugging the cloak tightly around her body. She stepped up to me as her parents withdrew. They went searching for a vac
ant sofa, to wait until the party was over. I could imagine they simply wanted to get back to their room, Ma to pack her unworn dress, Pa to scratch his head and tell himself to ignore all that he had witnessed, both ready to get on the next flight out of town. Could they leave if they wanted to? Not just from the town and state, but simply from the wooden hall? Where was the exit?
“I don’t know who you are anymore,” Elizabeth said, her jaw tight. I couldn’t see her eyes very well as she was standing in the shadow made by the chandelier bear’s head above us. I recalled that her eyes were an astounding blue. Ultramarine. It was one of the first things I had noticed about her years ago when we first met in our teen years. I fell in love with her, obsessed over her to a pathetic degree, but she thought it was quaint and flattering to have an older guy like her. She liked the attention at first, but then it became too much, and she withdrew. Each date she went on with some random guy broke my heart again and again. She was the first girl I ever loved, and because it was never reciprocated, I hated her a little bit. Had she ever really known who I was?
“It’s good to see you again, Elizabeth,” I responded, deflecting her accusation. “I’m sorry to hear about your divorce. At least there weren’t any kids to get caught up in the stress.”
Her Adam’s apple jumped, and she didn’t blink for a long time. “Do you even know what’s happening? Can you see yourself? You killed a girl on that stage—like it was a snuff show for everyone’s entertainment.”
“It wasn’t real,” I said, to my surprise. “She’s okay—you’ll probably see her wandering around here.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows twisted. “What do you mean? You fucked her and plunged a knife into her. Those other two had their goddamn throats cut and their faces peeled off!”
