AFTERTASTE

by Scott, Kyle M.

  With a nod, the butcher continued working.

  The tall man removed his suit jacket and laid it carefully on a table across the room, far from the devastated child on the table. With three long strides, he stood over Sam’s body, a towering sentinel. He rolled up his shirt sleeve, revealing the ivory white musculature of his forearm, and reached into the boy’s stomach. The ribcage had been pried apart, and entrance was easy.

  His massive hand slid into the cool, wet meat. He sighed at the sensation as the boys organs slid around and over his skin.

  And then the worms came.

  He watched them with fond eyes, as they squirmed through the boy’s insides with open mouths, tiny teeth bared, and wrapped around his hand. With a wet sucking sound, he brought his hand from inside Sam’s body. A multitude of the small, gelatinous parasites slithered between his fingers, around his wrists, over his knuckles.

  He drew his open hand up to his face, watching closely as the tubular creatures tickled his open palm. He could hear their tiny teeth gnashing as they blindly went about their unending search for a host.

  “You grow up so fast,” he whispered

  CHAPTER 4

  The little girl sat in the passenger seat, watching the road ahead, mesmerised by the beams of light from the car’s headlights as they cut a swath through the dark woods. Small lights sparkled fleetingly in the centre of the road as the vehicle rode on through the night, the trees all around and overhead catching in the headlights, their shadows capering in the gloom, cut by wisps of dancing light, and then returning to black.

  On the radio, The Kinks were playing, one of her mom’s favourite bands, and by extension, one of hers. She’d grown up around the rock and roll bands of the sixties, and the music of that era wrapped its arms around her like an old and trusted friend. The song playing was ‘Lola’, and mom was singing along to herself as she steered them through the woodlands and back to Plainfield.

  It had been a wonderful visit.

  She hadn’t seen her grandmother in days, and had begged and begged to visit, until mom had finally relented, gathered up her coat and her car keys and sprung them both for the open road. It sucked that her gran lived ten miles away, and that, at age eight, she couldn’t visit without a driver. Dad was okay with it, but he was busy with work most of the time, so it fell to mom to be the designated driver for their all-too-occasional excursions to Arlington.

  Last visiting day had been a bust - too much schoolwork, and mom had been fighting a particularly nasty stomach bug, the sort that had her lying in bed for days, unable to fend for herself, never mind fend for her or her big brother.

  She had been overjoyed that mom was making the trip this week, though. And it had been quite the visit. A trip to her gran’s house meant not only undivided love and attention, but chocolate.

  Lots and lots of chocolate.

  As the girl watched the miles roll by and let the jangling melody wash over her, she smiled. She could still see her gran’s kindly, weathered face, as she waved from the warmth of her doorway. Mom had allowed them to stay real late this time, despite the encroaching early nights of mid-winter, and Slim had a wonderful time. Her belly felt a little sickly due to all the sweets, but she was happy, and already looking forward to the next visit.

  “What are you so happy about, young one?” mom said, keeping her eyes on the road ahead.

  She laughed, “Nothing. Just happy.”

  “Well then, that makes me happy. Thanks for pushing me into this trip, angel. You’re every bit as stubborn as your dad, but it pays off sometimes.”

  The girl giggled, “I’ll tell Daddy you said that!”

  “No you won’t, little miss!”

  “Yes, I will. I’ll tell him just as soon as we get home.”

  Mom laughed, “And what can I do to convince you to keep that big mouth shut?”

  She gave mom the biggest, most adorable grin she could muster, “You could let me stay up late and watch a movie with you.”

  “Oh, could I now?”

  “Yep.”

  Mom turned to face her for a second. The child could see the mirth behind her eyes. “Don’t you think it’s late enough? It’s past your bedtime already.”

  “Is it?” she asked, all innocence and light.

  “You know it is, you little monster.”

  They shared a moment of laughter.

  “Maybe...” she admitted.

  “And if I were to allow you to stay up to watch a movie, which movie would we be watching?”

  “I dunno, I was thinking maybe an old horror movie. Maybe one with Peter Cushing or Vincent Lee.”

  “That's Vincent Price, sweetie, or Christopher Lee.”

  “I’m still learning.”

  “And mother is proud. You’re already more learned than your daddy on these matters. I raised you well.”

  “Yes, you did. So...”

  “So...?”

  “Can we?”

  “Can we what?”

  The girl punched her mom gently on the arm, “Stop teasing me!”

  “Would I do that!?”

  “You’re doing it right now, Mommy!”

  Mom laughed with mock evil, “Ha-ha! Guilty!”

  “So can we?”

  “You know what...yes, yes we can. You don’t have school tomorrow anyway, and if having you tired and grumpy in the morning is the price mommy has to pay for brainwashing you with classic horror, then mommy will pay that price!”

  The girl whooped with delight.

  It was easy getting one over on her mom.

  The battle won, she fell silent, and resumed her daydreaming, allowing the music to flow and the soft hum of the car’s engine to lull her.

  She woke with a scream.

  At first, she had no idea where she was, only that she was in pain, and couldn’t move. The girl’s vision was blurry, something red stung her eyes, her legs hurt, and she found she could hardly manage to take a breath. The child tried to move her arm, hoping to relieve the pressure of whatever was pushing into her chest, a stab of white hot agony coursed up her shoulder and into her neck. The little girl screamed, realising at last where she was. She slowly turned her head down to her waist, her right arm lay there, bent at an impossible angle, something white poked through her skin. She was bleeding.

  Mommy!

  Shivering, she turned her head to her right, the motion caused her to scream out loud again, though her scream cut short when she saw her mommy.

  Mom’s head lay against the side window, the glass behind her splintered like fractured ice and coated in blood. It trickled down the window pane, seeping into the cracks and tracing dark red veins on the glass.

  She looked directly at her mommy, her hair was matted in blood, soaked from vibrant blonde to dark brown, a thin line of blood trickled steadily from her nose. Her eyes were rolling, as though she was drunk or maybe dizzy.

  “Mommy?” the girl whimpered, tears streaming down her face.

  Mom’s eyes seemed to clear a little. The child saw the familiar light that she loved so much, flicker behind the bloodshot eyes, as they turned, ever so slowly, to meet her terrified stare.

  “Baby...” Mom coughed, and the girl cried as blood spattered the steering wheel, and dribbled down her mom’s chin.

  The little girl looked lower.

  Saw the ruination of her mommy’s neck.

  Saw the huge black gash and the shining bone beneath.

  The blood pumping in short spurts like a tiny geyser.

  Terror stricken, she lifted her head, looked to her mommy’s eyes for some sign of comfort, some loving words to make it all go away.

  A single tear ran down mommy’s cheek and mixed with the blood on her lips.

  “Baby...I’m so sorry...”

  “Going in one hour!” the voice shouted.

  Slim woke with a scream, springing up from the bed. Sweat coursed down her face, her t-shirt clung to her figure, drenched.

  She realised she was
crying.

  Reliving the horror, as though it were only moments passed.

  Trembling, she wiped the tears from her eyes and fought to find her breath. She could still feel the seatbelt crushing her chest, the dull throbbing agony in her arm.

  She could still see her mommy, fading away before her very eyes, unable to hold on, unable to finish her words, her eyes burning with a terrible fear and love.

  Slim lowered her head and wept.

  CHAPTER 5

  John made his way down the sidewalk of Jewel Street, his stride determined. Under ordinary circumstances, the journey would be a pleasant one. A small group of kids, boys and girls, were playing with a Frisbee in the small play area that sprang like a green island from the concrete in the centre of the street. The sun beat down its warm glow on the rows of homes that lined the streets, painting the walls of the properties gold. An elderly couple sat supping beers on a porch; a tired, mangy looking dog coiled around the old man’s feet, its one ear raising as the passing ice cream van played its jingle, and from open doors and sunlit gardens, children sprang forth with eager smiles and hungry eyes. The birds sang their songs for the summer, and Plainfield, for all intents and purposes, felt as close to paradise as one was likely to find in the United States.

  John had no happiness in his heart this afternoon, though.

  It was a ten minute walk to Sam’s place, maybe five at a clip, and he wanted to get there as fast as he could. The deep rooted sensation that something about all this was very, very wrong, had only grown and intensified as the day had gone on. Although he was glad to be away from Pauline, and have something with which to focus himself on that didn’t involve his own quietly all-devouring sense of shame.

  He would deal with that problem when the time was right. Find a way to explain to Pauline that he wasn’t looking for a relationship, that he had too much going on, that he was gay.

  Whatever the hell it took.

  Strange that before yesterday, his issues with the one night stand, or as he’d already come to think of it, the unholy alliance, had seemed like the biggest, most life-breaking problem in the world.

  But now...

  Now, with all that had happened, he felt a little stupid for placing so much importance on something so trivial. It was a schoolboy problem, a teenage problem, something that no doubt happened to guys the world over, from Scotland to China, Peru to Mozambique. A dumbfuck, ridiculous situation that could be resolved with nothing more than a little straight talk and a pair of balls.

  This thing with Sam, though, that was something different.

  Nothing fit in place. The locked door, the dead eyed Harriet, the customers all choosing to ignore what would otherwise have seemed alarming to most civilised folk. Not to mention the way they had all been eating. It was one thing for Pauline to stuff her face with no concern for manners or etiquette, but for everyone to do it?

  John was glad he hadn’t eaten or drank anything. Something gnawed at his insides, telling him that was probably a very good move on his part.

  He just hadn’t been hungry. Sam’s mom had made her special lasagne, and John was as passionate about his friend’s mom’s cooking as he was about her low cut dresses and her long, lithe legs.

  Sam had declined his mother’s cooking, preferring to save space in his belly for their trip to Waldo’s.

  Seemed a waste, to John.

  He’d eaten his fill at Sam’s, before meeting with Pauline, and had merely went along because both of them were, as they put it, ‘fucking famished’.

  The behaviour of the townsfolk wasn’t the strangest thing, though. Nor was the staff’s cold lack of concern for his friend. John knew that big corporate franchises like Waldo’s were infamous for their inhuman business acumen, and for their calculated handling of any situation that may affect the dollar, but this was something else.

  And why were all the staff from out of town?

  There were plenty of kids John’s age who would gladly have earned an extra buck, and from what he’d heard at school and around town, this burger joint was fast becoming a big deal.

  Everyone wanted a part of it.

  He knew that in a small town like Plainfield, every event was an ‘event’, but a burger joint?

  Ok, so it was the first restaurant the burgeoning franchise had opened, the next rumoured to be opening three towns over in a few weeks, so he could understand how some townsfolk saw this as being important, or maybe exciting , but it was hardly world-changing. It didn’t make them special, and if they felt it did, then the people of Plainfield really needed a goddam wake-up call.

  That said, in a land where obesity was god and consuming was all-consuming, he figured maybe to some sad-sacks, being there at ground zero when the ‘next big franchise’ was born was a historical moment, on par with the declaration of independence, or the civil rights movement.

  It was sad.

  It was fucking weird.

  John shivered as, in his mind’s eye, he replayed Harriet’s zombified smile. He wondered where she’d come from.

  Where any of the creepy fuckers had come from.

  John wasn’t as hard-line as Slim, or her partner in crime, Meg, but he understood that corporations distilled town spirit and thinned the herd. He had no problem with the food or what was in it, though. He’d seen the videos on the internet and he’d even read some of the pro-organic food posts that the girls had placed in their Facebook feeds, and while he agreed that the food they served in these places probably wasn’t especially good for you, he didn’t really see it as much of a problem.

  Everything in moderation.

  Maybe that was the problem...

  From what he’d seen in Waldo’s, no one in town seemed to understand moderation.

  The small Tennessee town had taken to their first fast-food joint like a Russian to McDonalds.

  It was embarrassing, when you thought about it.

  A voice from across the street drew John’s attention.

  “Hey, Johnny boy. Where you headed?”

  John squinted, masking his eyes from the bright summer sun with his hand. Across the street, Jake - a kid from school whom he and Sam hung out with on occasion, going fishing or having a drink - was stood with his girlfriend

  Beth, they called her. John had never been introduced.

  Pretty girl, though.

  “I’m heading over to Sam’s house,” he shouted back. “You wanna come?”

  “Yeah, I heard what happened. Dumb bastard made a fool of himself in public again, huh?”

  “Something like that. So, you coming?”

  “Nah, me and Beth are heading to my place. She’s gonna let me lick her asshole. Been wanting to do it for ages.”

  John was speechless.

  The air around him seemed to grow thick.

  Beth smiled up at Jake, “I want him to ream my asshole like an ice-cream.”

  John stared across the street at his friend, feeling a million miles adrift.

  “Hey Johnny boy, I have an idea! You wanna come with us? She’ll let you do it too, won’t you honey?”

  Beth smiled, “Fuck yes.”

  John gulped, “Another time, maybe.”

  “No problem, buddy,” Jake hollered, and with a wave and a smile, walked off hand in hand with Beth.

  The stiffness is John’s pants betrayed the tight phantom fist that clenched his heart, and wouldn’t let go.

  CHAPTER 6

  Pauline wiped the sweat from her forehead, and punched the keys on John’s laptop, feverishly searching. Screen after screen flickered before her eyes, as she ground her teeth and bit her lips, hard enough to draw blood. A thing trickle ran down her chin, leaving a wet red trail.

  Pauline wiped her chin with the back of her hand, smearing her face with the warm fluid.

  “Where the fuck is it?” she muttered to herself, as she dug deeper into the website, her eyes darting to and fro, perusing images, links and video titles.

  “Not hard enough,�
�� she whispered. “Not dirty enough.”

  On screen, a man’s erect and sizable penis was being pushed through a small hole in what looked like a urinal. The walls were filthy, scratched with graffiti from top to bottom.

  A short brunette, wearing round glasses and sporting cute little pigtails, panted and moaned as she opened her mouth wide and took the man’s whole length. She gagged as his stiff erection punished the back of her throat, gagged as she forced it all in. Drool spilled for the sides of her ruby red lips and slimed his cock as she choked it down, her hand stroked what little of his length remained out-with her gullet.

  Pauline reached between her legs; she could feel her wetness soaking through the thin fabric of her training shorts as she rubbed her middle finger rhythmically up and down the small throbbing mound of her sex.

  With her other hand she reached for the mouse that John had connected to the laptop, “Fuck! There has to be harder porn than this!”

  Reluctantly, she withdrew her moist hand from between her legs and reached for the keyboard.

  She typed TEN MAN GANGBANG

  Pauline smiled as the screen washed afresh with thumbnail after thumbnail of hard-core group sex videos.

  “Gotta love the internet.” she panted.

  With a trembling hand, she scrolled down the screen, gauging as best she could from the small image available, which video looked most likely to get her off.

  She decided to click on the one that read: TEEN REAMED OUT BY TEN BLACK COCKS.

  She licked her lips as the video loaded, pulling off her shorts and ripping aside her soaking panties.

  Within moments, the video loaded, and Pauline’s world became one of flesh and fluid and fucking.

  Leaning back on John’s bed, she spread her legs wide, enjoying the tickling sensation brought on by her flowing juices as the dribbled down her inner thighs and pooled in the creases of her ass.

  “Fuck, yes...” Pauline moaned, inserting three fingers into her body, up to the knuckles. Her rabid gaze never left the screen as muscular man after man fucked the short blonde whore in every orifice.