Supper – by Fetid SirDidy – narrated by Asclepius
Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with another scary tale from Fetid SirDidy. It is entitled
Background music by Smartsound
The butcher’s massive knife descended with a grace that would rival even the best swordsman. The blade gleamed while it made its descent, reflecting pearls of sunlight that sparkled off the iron cookware that lay scattered about his worktable. It cut through scale and bone with ease and made a thwack sound as it came to rest on the wood before him where a monstrous fish lay. With a flick of his wrist, the butcher flung aside a large plated head which landed on the ground a few feet away from him. Two mangy dogs who had been soundlessly watching pounced on the head instantly and began tearing at it with tooth and nail.
Placing the large knife down, the butcher reached into the belt at his side, unsheathed another one that had a long slender blade, and proceeded to deftly fillet the ancient looking behemoth. When finished, he gently placed the thick strips of meat into a leather sack and held it, along with his other hand, out. A man with a pointed and lordish looking face grabbed the sack and tossed a few coins on the table. The butcher only nodded and wiped the blade off on his blood-stained apron.
Throughout the rest of the day the butcher received all manner of creatures which he cut, quartered and divided up skillfully. The coins piled up ever so slowly and the blood on the table increasingly pooled along with them.
At last the sun began to dip toward the horizon and the butcher made his way home. Before entering, he removed his blood-soaked apron and dipped it into a barrel of water beside the door. The clear water in the barrel darkened, creating a pool of radiant hues of pink that matched the sky as the sun set. The butcher stood for a moment and watched as the sky brightened for a moment in a dazzling flash of brilliance and then went dark. With a few strong twists he wrung out the apron and went inside, closing the door behind him.
A large steaming cauldron hung above the fireplace hearth, and the butcher’s stomach rumbled as he stirred the pot with a long-handled spoon. The fire crackled and cast shadows that danced on wood and stone. Aside from a polished dark table that sat in the opposite corner and a cage on the floor next to it, the room was mostly bare.
Filling a bowl, he shuffled to the table and sat down. As he ate, he glanced at the cage on the floor beside the table. In it, a gagged man with eyes wide, murmured softly. His left arm had been removed at the elbow and had stitches caked with dried blood. His right hand, with wounds far more fresh, was missing all of its fingers.