The Slob

I sat up in the bed all night, half expecting him to burst inside and start carving me up at any given moment. Instead, I just sat around smelling the unique odor of the mystery meat he’d brought me. Maybe the boot he’d given me to the snout during the day had opened up my sinuses. Either that or this was a very powerful smell. There was no telling what it was and the shape of the “beef” looked similar to the portions he’d chopped off of the woman that I’d vacuumed up at his request.

I decided that morning I was going to try and avoid eating until I escaped or became too weak to. But I quickly found out that strategy would be a short-lived pipedream. Nearly the exact moment I’d finished concluding the thought, I started to hear the same heavy footsteps creeping up the stairs that I did when I’d initially ascended them. Of course, they drew closer but it sounded like there was a lighter, more dainty set beside them. Some distressed grunting echoed around the house’s yellowed halls toward me.

There hadn’t been a minute that had gone by since I’d stepped into the room that I wasn’t scared, but the temporary hiatus had given me some time to think by myself. That had ended, now I was again required to interact with The Slob. When the door unlocked, the mystery of the hallway noises was explained. The explanation, however, as disturbing as it was, left something to the imagination.

The Slob entered, dragging a woman in by the arm. He was leading her because there was a black garbage bag over her head. It looked to have an air hole since I could see a speck of skin appear at times while she jerked her body trying to free herself from his clutches. Specks of red flashed inside also, which was a bad sign. There were more cherry smears on her strapless top and acid-washed jeans. There were some clues but the part that was still open to interpretation was under the bag. What about her face?

He tossed the girl on the bed beside me and looked over at the plate. The same meat was still there but it was now patrolled by a few flies and dried out. He stepped toward it and picked up the lump of meat by the tip of the rather bulky bone that protruded from it. When he bit into it with his decaying incisors, flies buzzed away and moved on to circle his head. He had to pull it violently from his clasped jaws from the gamey gristle to sever a mouthful. The chewing process was even tougher than the meat itself.

After completing what I viewed as an exhausting task, he began to close in on me. The woman beside me had stopped wiggling around, she must’ve sensed a more passive method to be the best strategy while considering the silence around her.

He extended the bone handle toward me, jabbing me to complete the task that I’d been dreading. The last thing I wanted to do was eat another person. While I couldn’t be positive that’s what I was doing, it felt like the most probable assumption.

“No, please… no, thank you,” I replied to his ghastly gesture, backing my hands off to help him understand.

In retrospect, if I could go back, I would’ve just eaten the fucking meat when he asked. I was going to have to eat it at some point anyway and I don’t know why I felt like I could somehow reach him like a reasonable person.

I’d cleaned up his aftermath, I’d witnessed his short fuse, and I was noticing a pattern. This wasn’t just some one-off thing, there was a girl with a plastic bag sucking back and forth against her mouth lying beside me. All of that had happened, and still, I didn’t think I could offend him?

He reacted in a measured manner, swiftly driving his palm into my forehead, thrusting my skull into the solid pine headboard. His hands were massive, almost wrapping around to the back of my skull. He tightened his grip and kept repeating the motion. I blacked out at some point. I couldn’t recall exactly how many times he slammed my head, but it ached like a Robert Downey Jr. hangover.

Upon my subsequent awakening, the first thing I noticed was that my pants were missing. My shoes and socks had also been removed, along with the collared shirt I’d purchased to give myself a more professional vibe while selling. It was probably a foolish investment considering I was in my second trimester, but I’d rationalized that maybe I could use it again if we had another child.

I’d been stripped down to my Billy Idol tee that I was using as my undershirt. He remained still draped over my belly which was now protruding to an even more noticeable sphere of humanity. I reached to cover myself but realized that both my arms and legs had been restrained, roped around the circular wooden balls that topped each of the antique bedposts.

All of a sudden, an unnatural feeling set in. My dread skyrocketed as I realized something was inside me. It seemed like whatever I was feeling was relatively deep. I couldn’t see all the way down but what I was experiencing was a horrifying sensation that any woman wouldn’t be able to ignore for long. It started to cross my mind that, based on the consistency and feeling, it might be the curved bone and meat wad arching its way into me. Only parts of it felt thick, that seemed like the give-away for me. There weren’t a whole lot of other objects I’d seen in the room so the possibilities were limited.

There were so many jokes that would’ve come to my mind if I was watching a movie or hearing this as some kind of secondhand story. But there was no room for humor anymore, nothing laughable was happening. I was being violated with someone else’s remains. Raped by the dead at the will of the living.

The Slob was standing over me, as emotionless as usual. He’d apparently propped the woman up in a chair on the other side of the room. I assumed she might be watching through the small hole in her bag. I’m sure she was equally as petrified and pondering her own fate.

He’d started in on me again, bashing his fat-padded knuckles into my face. I could hear it crunching, the volume of the breaks increasing each time he struck me. The pressure was so intense, I wondered if my head might cave in. He seemed to be targeting my nose and his aim was true. He’d landed so many shots that my expression was closer to a bowl of mashed potatoes than anything else. My nose was so broken and deformed that the bone had gone completely off the tracks and climbed directly into my line of vision. The bloody white glistened under the light of the dingy yellow lamp.

The Slob reached for the meaty bone that he’d left marinating inside me again. He slowly worked his disgusting hand through the lips of my vagina and began digging around again. At first, it seemed like he didn’t have any intention of trying to take the meat out of me. He seemed more interested in just toying around with me. He tickled me a little, although I didn’t react to it.

I was too busy suppressing my urge to regurgitate and also trying not to choke on the overflowing blood streaming backwards inside me. It was sliding rapidly like a waterpark luge down the back of my throat. I was scared I’d suffocate if I didn’t continue to keep swallowing some of it every few seconds when it pooled in my mouth.

Finally, he extricated the moist wad of oily gristle that was still attached to the bone he’d been gnawing on earlier. The chunk was drenched in a thin, pale and creamy substance which I knew to be leukorrhea. While it was a normal vaginal discharge that occurred during a woman’s pregnancy, it certainly was anything but appetizing.

No sane human being would want to savor a self-manufactured slime that oozed its way out from reproductive areas. No one except for the twisted psychopath that I was at the mercy of. He slurped up a dribble before scooping more back out of me with his free hand. He held it up like it was some kind of intimate gift from the gods… like an unknown delicacy that he was introducing to society.

As if the meat wasn’t disgusting enough before, now it had reached a different plane of vileness. “Hungry now?” The Slob inquired, forcing the gruesome morsel upon me.

I couldn’t fight it anymore; I was accepting the mixture of humanity as best I could from him, nibbling at it exhaustedly. The motions were simply to comply. If I could appease The Slob, hopefully, he would leave. I was slurping my slimy secretions off of the meat but he didn’t seem satisfied with my level of enthusiasm. I was so drained that it was hard to do what he wanted but I would learn The Slob was a master motivator.

He grabbed the splintered spike of protruding nose bone that was leaping off of my face and twisted. I felt it pushing down, creating excruciating pressure on my face. This ratcheted up my intensity to the point of mania. I was like a rabid animal now, biting into the meat and screaming without reservation. The more torque he turned me with, the more savage I became.

I was so reckless that I’d even broken two of my teeth and swallowed them. I was mostly ripping off chunks of meat but I was in such a primal trance that I was also clamping down with death-bites which were catching on the bone at times.

As I continued my rabid feast, before long, the bone was nearly bare. The few fatty lurking remnants The Slob was apparently willing to overlook for me. He rotated between licking it a few times himself for good measure and sticking it back inside me. After a dozen or so cycles of my absent reaction, he tossed it on the carpet.

“Dessert?” he asked me, again not triggering a response. I didn’t know what to say. I was too broken to say anything, so I just let him do the talking.

He leaned over and elevated back up, holding a 25-pound dumbbell. He must have brought it in and left it by the bedside, surprise, surprise… He didn’t seem like the type to work out, so why he had it was puzzling. But why he had it didn’t matter, what he was going to do with it did. I had no idea at first, but when he used his free hand to pull my shirt up, it became more evident. My round stomach was swollen outward and beginning to shake nervously at the foreshadowing my broken psyche was shading in.

He drove down the weight with mind-bending speed. I was already disoriented but it was on me before I knew it, mashing into my stomach with total disregard for the future prospect of life inside it. The first blow dented me momentarily, causing my limbs to strain and the collective blood in my mouth to launch out like a comedic spit-take you’d see in the cinema. As my belly retook its shape, I gasped desperately for oxygen. That was the last time my belly would hold its motherly outline as a psycho flurry of repeated strikes with the unforgiving weight found my baby’s womb.

I could feel my insides jarring with each additional motion. My stomach kept trying to push back to normalcy but The Slob was too focused on destroying it to even have a chance. His pig-like face was giddy when brandishing his rotten dentures.

His arousal was evident as he toyed with his cock, sticking his free hand deep down his trousers while he focused on the bone-crushing beating with the other. His forbidden pleasure was beaming; physically visible in his expression as sweat glistened all over his behemoth body and forehead. He snarled at me with excitement, causing a mucus and snot mixture to blast from his nostrils and dribble down over his lips.

He didn’t stop until my insides felt like they were filled with a pulverized and pulpy consistency. I tried to scream but most of the air had left my body. Each time he hit me now, I felt my ribs crack. They had to be broken but the overall pain and decimation of my torso had left it feeling like a giant fire had engulfed me.

My baby was dead. Our baby was dead. Daniel would be heartbroken and undoubtedly repulsed if he ever found out what happened. It seemed like wishful thinking as I wondered if my body would even be found after he was finished with me. While the physical agony was overwhelming, the mental portion was just as ghastly. My baby was puréed in the most merciless manner imaginable before it had even gotten to take its first breath.

No birthdays or nightly tuck-ins or teaching it to ride a bike. No happiness. It was no longer possible. Things had gotten so grotesque that the overexposure to extreme violence seemed to be seeping into my head now. I began to picture myself sitting behind a birthday cake smiling with a pile of ground gore, broken bones, and various innards near. Next, I imagined reading a bedtime story to the same pile being tucked in by Daniel. Finally, the mess sat on the seat of a tricycle as I coached the legless puddle to peddle with lackluster results. It was all ruined now, everything was ruined.

I felt my fluids ejecting from down below, all over the bed, pooling a short time until they sunk into the piss-stained mattress. When he decided to drop the dumbbell by his side, all the wind had already left me. My wheezing sounded like a fifty-year smoker on their deathbed. I was only concerned with catching my breath again and continuing to live. Part of me just wished he finished it; the kind of injuries I’d sustained didn’t promise survival or even make it seem appealing. But The Slob would give me anything but what I actually wanted.

He stuck his arm back inside me about halfway down to the forearm. I could feel him grabbing at something and pulling heartlessly. He removed a handful of wet red tissue and force-fed it to me. I still hadn’t caught my breath and was still trying to maintain swallowing the blood pools that my exposed nasal cavity was constantly refilling. I felt like I was about to drown in my own essence.

The Slob took no consideration regarding my freshly inflicted deformities and bullied my jaw open with his large knuckles. He released the scoop of tightly matted dead flesh into my gagging esophagus as I continued to cough with tears streaming down my cheeks. The Slob was the puppeteer of my mouth, imposing his will on me, forcing me to chew and eventually swallow the wad comprised of my core and my unborn. I didn’t know why but inside I felt like that seemed to fulfill him, although he remained expressionless.

“Time to clean up,” he said, almost robotically.

He moved over towards the Bissell on the floor and plugged it in. He removed the wide-lip attachment from the end of the vacuum and inserted the long aluminum tube as deep as he could within me. I started to cry aloud again just before he turned it on. His bloodied hand left a fat wet fingerprint upon the power button. I stared at it so I didn’t have to look at him. He drove it so deep that I could feel the slurping hose end suctioning to my cervix, or whatever was left of it.

I felt the hot steaming water inside me, scalding my shredded inner tissues while pulling out chunks of me and what was left of my baby. I watched in disbelief as the clear area at the base of the vacuum turned a sinister maroon shade. I fixed my sight next on the strange-looking fragments that could have been something beautiful as they whirl-pooled around the soapy crimson water. I wanted to scream louder but I just didn’t have anything left. Instead, the tears just continued to stream.

I felt like I’d dismissed every variety of bodily liquid possible by the time he switched the machine off. When he untied my limbs, he threw the stained vacuum extension at my face and looked at me. “Now clean it up,” The Slob commanded.

He just stared right through me callously, expecting me to start cleaning again right away. Like I hadn’t just been ferociously assaulted. Like the trauma I’d endured wouldn’t have killed weaker people. I hadn’t truly reflected on just how much I hated him until that moment. Mostly because I was too afraid to. After what he had done to me, there wasn’t too much to be afraid of anymore. I’d lost the one thing I cared about as much as Daniel; the product of our love.

The dim flicker of light that I clung to like a life-support plug was that I knew Daniel still needed me. But maybe now more than ever, I needed him. I needed to get back to him immediately, everything else had become secondary.

My loathing of The Slob was making evil things bubble up in my mind. What might I be able to do to him under a different set of circumstances? It seemed like some exotic far-fetched dream, but sometimes, dreams can come true…

I’m not sure how I found the strength, but I lifted my mangled frame up from the bed. Once he started to see that I was listening to him, he picked up the dumbbell and headed for the door. I turned the Bissell on like a good girl and started cleaning the bed and repulsive pool on the floor next to it. It didn’t even really make sense to vacuum a bed but it’s what I thought his broken mind required. He closed the door and locked it as usual. I suppose that I might’ve continued on for another minute or so before I collapsed and hit the floor.