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Grueberfest 06: Supper's Ready (619 hits)

Category: None

Rating: 2 on 16 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Labels:

Submitted by HighVoltage900 (View user info) at 2006-10-10 11:31:40 EDT


"In heaven, everything is fine,
In heaven, everything is fine,
In heaven, everything is fine,
You have yours and I have mine." She sang through her croaky voice as she stirred goop around a pot that she held over the fireplace. There was no fire in it. There never would be. But she thought there was.

I sat there starring at her scarred figure and listening to her sing. Sing and sing. Sing the same words over and over with only one different line as brief respite. I must have heard those words a million times, ten million, a billion, a number so large humanity never classified it.

Humanity. Hadn't thought of that recently.

"Have you taken care of the baby?" She asked breaking the monotony of her song for a moment before resuming it as the last word escaped her lips. I turned around in my chair to look behind me to where the 'baby' lay on a short table.

Such a grotesque thing. Such an awful thing. Such a hideous, wretched, vile thing. That fucking baby. I hate that baby as much as I hate her. Everyday she asks if I have taken care of it. Everyday it cries and cries and cries unless I am holding it right to my face! Unless I bring that horrible abomination closer to my person, which I refuse to do. I refuse to touch that which is most unclean. Instead I stab it with a pair of scissors I found. I stab it through the jaw so that it has a more difficult time crying. Its elongated head can't do its normal motion of snapping back like a hinge and wailing. It's tentacle like arms, ending in retarded four fingered hands wave around in the air searching for me but I stopped that by wrapping it tightly in blanket. So tight I hoped it would die. Slimy, cancerous, misshapen thing.

Is it possible to feel horrible for what I do to it? But I still continue to do it. Every time I feel bad I look at it and renew my resolve. If only it could die! If only I could kill it! Why won't it die? It's never fed, because it's my job to feed it. It never goes to the bathroom, because it's my job to clean it. It never breathes, because.... Well, I don't know why. It just doesn't.

"In heaven, everything is fine,
In heaven, everything is fine,
In heaven, everything is fine,
You have yours and I have mine."

Humanity. How did I get here? Those memories I hold onto so I don't go completely insane, although I am sure I already am.

The hunting trip. I went off hunting behind my farm that's right. Off into the woods I trekked looking for game and after hours of walking I found this house. This lone hut in the middle of the woods. I knocked on the door and was admitted by this woman. It wasn't until I went inside and saw her properly, saw her blackened eyes, her shriveled right arm, her grotesque spindle of a leg which she kept exposed, her flab and fat that hung over her clothes line, and her bulbous cheeks. I saw those things and pitied her as she was obviously someone who had endured a lot.

And that's when I saw the baby on the table and I ran. I ran away. I kept running and running and running until... Until I found the house again. Then I ran again. And found the house. I must have done that a dozen times, run away and find the house. I always came back.

After about the fifteenth time I went inside, and she promised to make me food if I took care of her baby.

"Supper's ready." She said from over her pot which had failed to cook in any way. She turned to me and motioned to the large table in the room with three chairs. One for her, one for me, and one for the.... Baby... once it grew up.

Her turning away from the cold fireplace revealed the holes in her chest. The holes caused by my 12 gauge shotgun. After a few failed attempts at escape (not that she tried to stop me) I tried finishing her. It had been what felt like years and I couldn't take anymore. I unloaded three shots into her, blasting large black holes into her chest to no result. She just carried the wounds like they didn't exist. Maybe they didn't.

Scooping a ladle of goop into a bowl, she handed it to me at my seat and began singing again.

"In heaven, everything is fine,
In heaven, everything is fine,
In heaven, everything is fine,
You have yours and I have mine."

I took a spoon full of goop and brought it to my lips, tipping it inside.

'Splat'

The goop was now splashed over my shirt, staining it where my shirt had been stained a hundred times before. It's hard to eat when there is a hole in the bottom of your jaw, a large hole where a shotgun blast attempted to end your life.

But then again, there is no suicide in hell.

The woman twisted her face into a smile and spoke.

"Do you like it?" She asked. Before waiting for me to reply she opened her mouth again to begin singing. To sing and remind me that in heaven, everything is fine. And that this.... This is all mine.

Baby has to grow up nice and strong.jpg (7 kB)

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User Reviews


Submitted by Anansie (user info) at 2006-10-12 18:39:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Don't forget to give me a title.

Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2006-10-12 01:01:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Sorry that it took me so long to get around to this.

AHHH, A THOU-SANT PARTONS!

*boobs grow uncontrollably*

Submitted by Anansie (user info) at 2006-10-11 18:27:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2006-10-11 16:00:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

This was wonderfully written. I really like your description.

Submitted by DuiTicket (user info) at 2006-10-10 22:39:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2006-10-10 22:27:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

**giggle**

Submitted by forensicgirl3 (user info) at 2006-10-10 20:01:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

This was awesome!

People in hell with holes in them.....damn! I like that. Maybe too much if you know what I mean.

Submitted by AsshOly (user info) at 2006-10-10 17:04:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

I would have lost anyway. Nice.

Submitted by Susie_Derkins (user info) at 2006-10-10 15:13:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Submitted by BLITZKREIG_BOB (user info) at 2006-10-10 15:01:16 (#)
Ranking: 2

Anyone knows that you have to go up, left, down, and left to get out of the woods.
----------------------------------
That's earned a +2 on whatever your next post is.

Submitted by BLITZKREIG_BOB (user info) at 2006-10-10 15:01:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Anyone knows that you have to go up, left, down, and left to get out of the woods.

Submitted by The_taste_of_Monkeys (user info) at 2006-10-10 13:50:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

OH GOD IS THAT THE BABY THING FROM ERASERHEAD?! That is one FUCKED up film

Submitted by v8lover (user info) at 2006-10-10 11:53:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

That does sound like hell.

Submitted by ubetidid (user info) at 2006-10-10 11:52:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

damn good

Submitted by Susie_Derkins (user info) at 2006-10-10 11:48:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Well done story of a neverending nightmare.

Submitted by BLITZKREIG_BOB (user info) at 2006-10-10 11:41:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

SUPPER'S READY BITCHES!
SUPPER'S READY BITCHES!
SUPPER'S READY BITCHES!
SUPPER'S READY BITCHES!
SUPPER'S READY BITCHES!


Submitted by hour_man (user info) at 2006-10-10 11:41:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Oh yeah, that's the good stuff


Bart: You know, Grampa kinda smells like that trunk in the garage
where the bottom's all wet.

Lisa: Nuh-uh, he smells more like a photo lab.

Homer: Stop it, both of you! Grampa smells like a regular old man,
which is more like a hallway in a hospital.

Old Money