Sob, Gurgle and Scream
By Casey Douglass
The small claw pushed
the bowl away, the heat-stained metal grating on the ancient rock
tabletop. ‘I don’t want it!’
‘Come on my little
chopping block, Mummy wants you to grow up big and strong, just like
Daddy. You’ve got to eat your breakfast or that won’t happen!’
‘Like Daddy?’
‘Yes my darling
plague bearer, he always eats his breakfast.’
A small smile shaped
itself around stubby fangs as this fact was considered.
A large claw dragged
the bowl back to where it should be. ‘Put your ear near the bowl
and you can hear them sob, gurgle and scream. Well, that’s what the
box says anyway.’
The little face looked
down into the bowl, its nose wrinkling at the smell.
‘Can I have angel
powder?’
‘Will you eat it all
up if you do?’
‘Yes Mummy!’
Two onyx eyes continued
to look into the bowl, edging nearer and nearer to the contents,
until they were close enough to make out the shapes. What at a
distance had looked like little stubby grubs began to coalesce into
slithering bipeds bobbing and rolling in a red milky fluid. Their
screams and shrieks tinny and at the edge of hearing.
A snow storm descended
on the bobbling creatures, fluttering wings and golden hair falling
like moth-dust, sparkling and fizzing as it hit the moisture below.
‘Thank you Mummy!’
The small claw picked
up the spoon and mashed it into the heaving contents, turning it all
into a gooey mush, each movement causing a crescendo of shrieks
before crushing them into oblivion.
‘Eat up now, don’t
play with your food!’
‘I’ve got to get
them all Mummy, they tickle if they wriggle too much!’
‘That’s a good
boy!’
‘Where’s Daddy?’
‘He’s working my
darling black heart, toiling to put food on our table!’