(Page 1 of 2) Hunger and thirst by Federico Patané
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SUMMARY: Entry for the November flash fiction contest themed Hunger.Hunger and Thirst by Federico Patané
The hunger preceded the thirst. It was there long before he turned into what he is now. Lately his hunger had been growing strong again. Strong enough to make it impossible to ignore. Tom didn't need to eat anymore, but the hunger haunted him nevertheless. It wasn't any more to sustain the body; he had to do it to quiet the call from within.
He now had a new problem. Something he had not anticipated before he changed. A competition between the hunger and the thirst. The two growing stronger every second and demanding to be satisfied. He felt just like having two mistresses pulling in different directions, oblivious of the other.
This internal struggle had gotten him to this place. Tom sat on the couch by the window in the dark, waiting. He admired this house that wasn't his. It was clean and orderly. Everything was in it's place just like he would have it. In another time he would have liked to linger in this place some more, but he had more constraints than before.
This wait was longer than expected. Four hours had gone by before his victim came. The ritual demanded patience, and so he fought to remain calm. He heard steps outside, then the key in the lock, turning. The door opened almost without a sound. The man walked in and closed the door, locking it, without turning on the light. Tom felt all his muscles tense and fought the urge to attack his victim savagely.
The man saw Tom's shadow in the couch and froze. Fear surely invaded him and a million ideas crossed his mind. The door he had just locked behind him, the bars on the windows and how fast would the stranger be. Would he be armed?
"Sit." Tom said pointing at a chair that was next to the door.
The man turned to run but Tom was on him even before he finished turning. One hand on his mouth and the other holding the arms of the man to his own chest. Tom's strength was overpowering. The hold on the man's mouth tightened and prevented the breathing. It happened like it had so many other times before. After a few moments the man fainted and Tom had total control.
The man was placed on a chair in the middle of the room where all the furniture had been moved to the wall. Underneath, a plastic sheet covered all the floor. Tom very carefully tied up the man to the chair and then placed duck tape over his mouth. The ritual was being followed as it had been for so many years. Tom took a last piece of rope that had been set aside and made a tourniquet in the man's left arm just above the elbow.
With a knife he cut the sleeve of the man's shirt and then retied the arm to the chair's arm. He waited until the forearm became red from the tourniquet and then began to cut with the knife skin, muscle and bone at elbow height. The man woke up with a shock. He fought violently with the rope but could not move. Tom was always sure his knots were very tight.
Very little blood left the severed arm once Tom finished his meticulous job. The left forearm set in a silver platter. The man tried to scream in vane, Tom had made sure he would not be able to.
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