The Cannibal House

6. Fingers

Lee tried the leather bound again on his right hand. Tight. Very tight. He looked at his left hand, his muscles flexing, and tried to lift his hand free out of the leather bound. Nothing. Lee looked up at the hanging light, and then at the shadows all around the room, and then he let his head sag, as if in dismay—but he was just thinking. He tried rocking the chair to the sides, back and forth, maybe he could get the bolts in the floor loose if he—

The slit in the door opened, and eyes peered inside.

Locks, on the outside, slam home and the door is thrust inward and the arthritis-laden old man walks into the room, hands clasped behind his back.

"The she-bitch in t'other room is nothin but trouble. She will make a nice one. But you," the old man regarded Lee up and down, "well, you make wonderful donations," the old man raised his right hand, and there on it, was Lee's ring-finger.

Lee's heart dropped and his eyes widened and he stammered out loud. The old man chuckled and then regarded Lee's face, he put his right hand on Lee's right cheek and guided Lee's head to look around so he could inspect him. The old man ran his hand over Lee's eyes, forehead, nose and then the mouth.

Lee stiffened and then old man felt at Lee's lips. He put his index finger into Lee's mouth. Lee gulped and realized he had a chance at something. The old man opened his mouth to speak when Lee bit forward and sunk his teeth into the old man's index finger. The old man screamed out, he cried and screamed such an unmanly scream that Lee had to refrain from laughing. Lee spit the finger to the ground and the old man punched Lee across the face.

"Dandy! Dandy!" the old man screamed as he turned and ran out the room. He did not close the door behind him.

Silence filled the room.