Page 15 of Grave Possession

“Eat, eat,” he urges. “I want to show you something.” He pulls the shoe box into his lap, removing the lid. The sandwich pauses halfway to my mouth when I witness what’s inside.

Polaroids.

So many pictures of women who I assume to be previous victims. They’re injured, cut up and bleeding—full on mangled and barely recognizable. This is a fucking test. He wants to see if I crack at the unveiling of his deepest darkness. I put the sandwich between my teeth and bite.

Show no weakness. This doesn’t bother me. Theyaren’t real. They’re fake, and this is a horror movie. Just another terrifying true crime case I’m listening to…one I unfortunately happen to be the focal point of.Chew and swallow.

“Is this all you wanted to show me?” I mumble before taking another bite. The meat grinds between my teeth as the juice from the tomato runs down my chin. His eyes spark to life at my indifference. Then the sicko leans in and licks the liquid from my skin.Don’t puke. Don’t puke. Don’t puke.

Drawing back a fraction, he looks at me. “Feed me,” he rasps.

“What?” I choke, mouth still semi-full of food.

“Feed me,” he repeats. I hold the sandwich up to his mouth, annoyed I have to share, but he shakes his head. Oh, fuck. Does this lunatic want me to baby bird my sandwich to him? No wonder it’s so big…it’s meant for two.

He must see the change come over me as I realize what he wants. “Hurry up, darlin’, I’m hungry too.” He shifts around, laying his head in my lap with the box of horrors sitting on his abdomen. He opens his mouth, sticks out his tongue, and I want to both cry and vomit simultaneously.

I lean over and spit the food from my mouth into his. His jaws snap closed around the lump of half masticated sandwich, and he hums his approval. I’m shocked and speechless, suppressing the gag lingering at the back of my throat. “Again,” he demands. I take another bite as he holds up a picture of a dark haired woman. She’s naked, covered in dirt, blood streaming from a hole in her shoulder,and she’s on her knees with his dick in her face. She looks familiar, but his victimology hasn’t strayed from women who resemble me for a while. At least now that he has me, all other women are safe. The food rolls off my tongue, and plops into his waiting mouth. “This is the one you met on your first day here.”What?My eyes dart from the picture to lock with his. He can’t mean… “Yeah, darlin’, the one you tripped and fell on top of. Remember…she exploded like a necrotic water balloon.” A deep rumbling laugh overtakes him as he relives the moment.Don’t break. Don’t break. Don’t break. You’re a rock.

“When can I shower?” I snark, trying to put an end to his reminiscing. “Or get some new clothes?”Bite, chew, swallow.He doesn’t acknowledge my question, or even seem to register the sound of my voice. Maybe he didn’t even hear me, too lost in the memory to perceive reality. His eyes have that far away look again, and I know he’s reliving the time he spent with her.

“She was such a good play thing,” he finally says, eyes focusing back into the here and now, his gaze meeting mine. “No one’s compared to you though. You’re perfect.”

“Thanks,” I deadpan. Does he think this shit is working? He can’t possibly believe this is wooing me. Fake one orgasm and play into his choking kink, now he’s more obsessed with me than ever before. It will work to my advantage in the long run though, I suppose.

“More, please,” he says from below me, nestling into a more comfortable position. I continue to ‘share’ my food with him as he pulls another picture from the box. “Want to see me fucking a throat?” he asks, overflowing withelation from whatever is on that little square in his hand. Is it of him getting a blow job? I prepare myself for whatever rough scene I’m about to see, but nothing could have prepared me for what I actually absorb when he flips the image towards me.Stay still. Don’t move. Don’t fall apart.

He props himself up on his elbows. They dig into my thighs, the pain centring me as his face becomes level with mine. He’s looking for any trace that my sickness doesn’t match his. “Tell me what you did,” I whisper, as the lump of sandwich stalls in my throat. I force it down and suppress a cough.

He grasps my hand in his, raising the meal to my mouth. I take another bite. His lips meet the shell of my ear as he whispers what he did to that poor woman. “She couldn’t suck dick to save her life, so I cut out her esophagus and used it like a fleshlight. Spilling my cum down her throat over and over until it shrivelled up and rotted.”Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.He licks my ear, nibbling and sucking on the lobe before pulling away and returning to his relaxed position on my lap. Laid back, and completely unbothered, like he didn’t just traumatize the shit out of me.

Snap. Snap. Snap.

The sound of his fingers snapping in front of my face jolts me back to awareness. Did I unknowingly slip into a catatonic state just now? I don’t remember floating away. I didn’t consciously decide to dissociate this time, and that’s concerning as fuck.

“You okay there, darlin’?” The soggy, saliva soaked bread sits heavy in my mouth. It’s on the cusp of disintegrating as the other ingredients swirl over my tongue. Inod, and gesture for him to open up. “Alright, go slow this time.” His eyes are eager saucers, waiting for me to spill the nutrients from my orifice into his. I slightly part my lips, and let my bread flavoured spit leak into his mouth. He groans as I watch his throat swallow down my lunch. Or is it dinner?

His body shoots up. “Pass it to me with your tongue,” he snarls, smashing his lips onto mine. His mouth opens and I push the food from me to him. His hand wraps around the back of my neck, holding me hostage. He’s trying to turn this into much more than a food exchange. Violently moving his mouth against mine, I can feel the particles of food grinding between our skin.It’s fucking disgusting.When he’s finally satisfied, he pulls away, returning to my lap.

Sadistic sandwich show and tell comes to an end as we finish eating. Eyes glazing over, I think I’ve entered a new realm of numbness. The things I witnessed in those pictures are so much worse than whatever the police could imagine. The bodies staged at the sawmill don’t compare in brutality to what he does alone in his cabin.

The Henderson Mill isn’t as important to him as everyone believes. If I had to guess, the hanging fixation has something to do with his mother. I have no idea if he faked her suicide at the mill, but reliving the first kill is thrilling to any serial killer. He may not even take me there, which makes my initial plan useless. He would enjoy it just as much if he took my life here and got to play with my corpse, just like all the others before me.

The longer I mull it over, the more I think he will still take me to the Henderson Mill. He will garrotte me, thenhang me from the rafters as a final ‘fuck you’ to Lennox. I know he gets off on being at his own crime scene, but witnessing someone he loathes so vehemently shatter before his very eyes is something he wouldn’t be able to pass up. He puts the lid back on the box of nightmares and gazes up at me. His movements pulling me from the whirlpool of thoughts I was drowning in.

“Still want that shower, sugar tits?” he says, licking his lips and staring at said tits.

“Yes. Do you have something clean for me to wear?” No point in cleaning myself to only get covered in rotten guts and splooge again.

“I’d much prefer you to be naked afterwards.” Not happening, perv.

“Then I’ll pass, I’d rather not freeze to death when I get thrown back down here,” I retort.

“I’ll find something for you to wear. Come on.” Rising to stand in front of me, he pulls the key from his pocket, leaning over me and unlocking the chain from the anchor point on the wall. He’s about to walk me like a fucking dog, and it’s so wholly degrading.

“Why do you want me to shower so bad,” I ask, staying planted to my spot on the mattress.

“Because I’m goin’ to watch.”

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