"Mother truly knows best, my love."
"Be it your own or someone else's."
In which the world of two siblings turns upside down when their father brings home a new addition to the family.
18+
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A SHRIEK OF TERROR danced against the walls of the garage, bouncing back to pierce Dana's own ears.
"No no no." She mumbled frantically as she fell to her knees right before his corpse, her trembling hands outstretching to cup his ice-cold cheeks. His skin felt clammy to the touch, a stark contrast to his warmth- both physically and emotionally.
"Dad. Dad— Dad!" She sobbed with the word repeated as a chant. Scorching tears sprang out of her eyes and slid down her cheeks. Dana started patting his face to wake him up, as if that would bring his soul back to him.
Dana's frantic mannerisms urged her to pull the trash bag the rest of the way off, and a throaty retch erupted from her lips. She had lost count of how many times her nausea was triggered today.
Liam was in his usual office clothing. The difference lay on his own body. Several punctures decorated his torso, staining his crisp light blue shirt with ruby-red. And that wasn't even the worst of it.
Maggots of all kinds gnawed away at the bone of his thigh, which was exposed to the world thanks to the large chunk of flesh missing from atop it. They slithered into his wound, eating away at anything they could find. Suddenly, it made sense why the garage reeked of this horrid rotting smell.
"What did you put in this?"
"Human meat."
It dawned upon Dana that Jocelyn may or may not have served food made up of her father's flesh. That would explain the toughness of the meat.
Pain twisted Dana's features. She clasped a palm over her mouth to suppress her bawls. A few of the maggots had crawled away from his leg and trailed across the cement floor and towards her. Normally she would have squealed, but she was too far gone into her sorrow to notice.
"I'm throwing you to jail." She rasped to Jocelyn under her breath. One of her hands reached towards the pockets of her pants to find her cellphone, so she could call the police. It wasn't there.
"Shit."
Dana had forgotten her phone back in her room. That train of thought led her to fear for Jim, who she had left all alone in the house. She could only pray that he hadn't unlocked the bedroom's door.
With relentless drops of anguish still streaming down her face, Dana dragged herself to her feet. Her gaze still couldn't move away from her dad's eyes ripped wide open, or his fists that were still clenched into tight fists— an implication of the torture he had undergone before he met his death.
Dana barely stumbled to the same door she entered the garage through, with whimper-like sobs spilling from her mouth. She grabbed the handle and pushed on it.
