The trail of blood led them
nowhere. Whatever had consumed the old
woman left no trace of itself. Claudia
sat down at the dinner table where the trail ended. She touched the bowl where a bowl and plate
were smeared with red. It was a
brilliant color and Claudia thought it looked nice on the flatware.
“I’d like bowls like this.” She
said. Her finger trailed across the red,
which of course came free onto her fingertips.
Eudora hovered by the doorway. Her expression was strange and filled with
passion. “And they fall to hunger or the
hungry.”
“Your eyes are bright like the
sun. Are you an angel or a demon? Dora, what are you?”
“And what are you pretty one?
You’ve fallen so far and yet your legs are unbroken.”
“I am nothing. I’ve know that for so long it’s hard to
remember when I didn’t. All I have is a
heart.” Claudia rested her hand over the
offending organ. Did it beat again? Could she see his face? No he was still hidden from her. Her heart saw nothing but it did beat.
“Then you are ahead of me. I tore
mine out long ago and watched as it stopped beating. Once they come out you can’t help them. And my heart just couldn’t survive.” Again her hand touched the pouch at her
side. She touched it for comfort,
Claudia realized. Some relic of her old
life must lie within. Some proof of a
place outside this.
“Red, red, red,” Claudia said staring
at the bowl. Then her mind met her
hands. It met Eudora’s words on seeing
the bowl and the blood. She retched;
luckily there was nothing in her stomach to come up.
She darted away from the table and
stared in horror at what was left of someone’s feast. Only a few small bones and blood remained but
it was enough. “What kind of person
would…”
Eudora laughed. “Hunger.”
Claudia ran blindly from the
room. Her feet brought her right back to
the corpse. The old woman’s eyes stared
out at her. Eudora’s soft footsteps
approached behind her. Claudia sank to
her knees.
A memory surfaced and she did not
know if it was real or conjured up by her own fear of it. She saw another pair of vague staring
eyes. Cold flesh under her fingers and a
raw mindless hunger ripping through her.
And this flesh sitting there, empty and waiting. Meat.
Could she really remember the taste
of it, raw and cold against her teeth and tongue? Her mouth tasted bitter at the memory that
might or might not belong to her. She
could see it in her mind, teeth struggling to rip through the upper flesh on
the arm. The stringy impossible muscle
dividing the small mouthful she could obtain.
Claudia gagged again and her head
dropped down toward the old woman’s stomach.
It smelt awful down there. In her
mouth was the taste of flesh bitter with the beginnings of mold. It was cold and tough so that her teeth had
to snap through it, her jaws crashing together with the force of it.
She could not remove her mind from
this one moment. There was no context
just a taste and a feel, a desperate hunger.
Yet even as she prodded at the thought it grew away from her. A mind that is sure will remain sure. A mind that has no reason to believe will
not. But a mind likes to believe in
something, an existence or the absence there of. The longer Claudia’s mind dwelt on this taste
the more true it felt. She could taste
it now, slick meat sliding against the sides of her mouth. Her mind wanted to believe because doubt was
worse. She did not want to believe
because nothing was worse than that.
“Dora, Dora,” She called as once
she had called to God. “Oh Dora did I?”
Eudora’s hands pulled her back from
the corpse. “In any event perhaps they
will bring us chicken tonight.”
Claudia lay back against Eudora’s
chest. She expected tears to come but
they did not. “I think I remember but it’s
so distant…like a dream.”
“Tis all a dream pet. And you will never wake, so what does it
matter one way or the other?”
There was logic in that. Claudia stood and allowed Eudora to lead her
away. The taste remained in her
mouth. The flesh had been so cold,
almost frozen. It tasted bitter and dull
with cold. Claudia rubbed her tongue
against the top of her mouth trying to get the taste to go away. It remained.
Title Reference: *Dostoevsky, Fyodor. “Crime And Punishment” Bantam Books, co 1866: 57