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Cannibal Corpse
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Cannibal Corpse |
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ESP Member Elite
since 2000-01-25
Posts 2556Floating gently on a cloud.... |
Prologue “This one is heavy! Why do I seem to be doing all the lifting?” “Was about to ask you the same thing, dearest—just be quiet and get on with it” The blanket-swaddled mass hung between them as they inched through the unkempt grass toward the isolated shelter that the copse in (Mitchell Park) would provide. They would have preferred the woods behind (Lake Mitchell), attractive in their density and thick foliage, but utilizing their favourite spot again so soon was not an option. Both individuals were breathing heavily as they relaxed their hold on the blanket. It hit the ground, its contents twitched as they folded back the blanket, revealing a human body. At a glance, it had death written all over it. “He’s nearly had it, but look—he’s still breathing. I can never get used to how dead the drugs make these guys look. Are you sure no one has followed us?” “Don’t be silly.” The response was accompanied by a large, silver knife flashing in the moonlight. Assured of their solitude, the two of them set upon the body like wolves on an injured caribou. Gouging and hacking at the chosen one, teeth burrowing into his face, his throat, his arms, his legs, blood dripped down their chins. One paused momentarily, catching his partner’s eye. “Happy anniversary, darling” he said, between swallows. Lust satiated, they sat and looked at the unrecognisable corpse that lay mangled before them. One broke the silence. “Better get cleaned up” There was no room for conversation as they took it in turns to wipe their faces and arms dry on the blanket before tenderly swaddling in it the remains of their feast. Chapter One Zoe stood at the counter, chopping vegetables for a stir-fry. The children were in the garden playing horses and Adam was slouched in an armchair watching New England versus Cincinnati. “Why don’t you switch to the news, hon? It should be on any minute now.” One hand reached for the remote control, while the other lazily scratched the scar that stretched from his left eye to his chin. The cheering crowds were replaced by a staid newsreader. “Top stories of the day: Corpse found under blanket in a park in Richmond, police suspect cannibalistic rituals. George Bush to face John Kerry in pre-election debate at 1700hrs EST. Top British tennis player, Reg Storetsky, pleads innocent before the canadian courts of justice, in what some label the biggest sports scandal of the decade. We cross live, now, to the small-town wood, in which the body of Martin Cooper, aged 45, was today found dead and horrifically mutilated. Stephen Rhodes reports: “Thank you Jane. Yes, I am standing in the very wood where runner Lorna Giles stumbled across a mutilated corpse at 6.30 this morning. As you can see, police have cordoned off the area where the body was discovered. There are no official statements at this point, but the murder is believed to be cannibalistic in nature… “Scum” said Adam loudly. “Should be given the chair, whatever sicko it was that did it. If…” The phone rang shrilly, interrupting him. Zoe ran into the hall to answer. A few minutes later, she returned to the vegetables. Adam hit the power button, cutting the weatherman off in mid flow. “Well? Aren’t you going to tell me who that was?” he asked. “Um, it wasn’t anything to do with you, so I didn’t want to interrupt” “Nothing to do with me? Who was it?” “Just my superior from the office.” “And? What did she want?” “He wanted to know if I could work some extra hours tomorrow” “He, eh? Extra hours for what? You work long enough days as it is!” “Well, one of us has to! I can’t bring the children up on your unemployment pay!” “Typical! You can’t have a conversation without cussing me for that, can you?” “It’s been a year, Adam. I’ve had to start dipping into the childrens’ education money. We can’t go on like this, however many extra hours they give me.” Adam grunted in response, staring gloomily out of the window. “Extra work…he…I wonder what sort of work that will be…” he muttered. Zoe’s face coloured as these words reached her ears. “How dare you!” she said softly. The subject was abruptly dropped as a boy of ten years and a girl of seven years ran into the kitchen. “Is lunch nearly ready, mum?” “I’m starving!” “It’ll be ready in about ten minutes, kids. Would you set the table for me, please?” The lunchtime chatter centred around the progress of the brother and sister’s weekend assignments and their importance over the horse game, upon which point they could not agree. "Time has told me not to ask for more, one day our ocean will find its shore" ~Nick Drake |
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skyshine 
since 2002-02-07
Posts 3058Beneath the northern stars |
It has my interest so far. I'm looking forward to seeing the rest of it!  ~sky Hold on, if you feel like letting go |
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