Church of Cannibalism

Blood Bath

"But you shall not eat flesh with its life, that is, its blood" ~ Genesis 9:4

"Alright, Mrs. Thompson. Let's make some meatloaf" a watered down voice commented.

I couldn't see anything from where I was. I knew that if I opened my eyes, I could see this lady's ass cheeks as clear as the day she was born.

I heard footsteps and forced my eyes open. I saw slender hands reach into the blood bath and pull the lady out. I heard slow footsteps lead away from me and I counted to twenty before lifting my head out of the bath.

I saw Grace over a silver table with the lady sprawled out on the table. There was a knife rack on the wall, in front of Grace and a sink at the end of the table. The knives ranged from small, harmless butter knives to intimidating butcher knives; that were all stained red with scarlet. I saw Grace pick up a butcher knife and started sharpening it.

I should've stayed my ass outside.

Grace started humming a tune I couldn't place and put the knife sharpener on the table. She pulled the knife up in the air and brought it down on the table. If the lady was alive, she would be screaming until an angel came and collected her soul from this hell. But instead, the only sound was of Grace's happily humming and a sickening crunch as bone snapped like a wishbone. Pale colored crimson poured off the table and became one with the floor.

Grace put her knife down and picked up a hand.

A hand that had a wedding band on the ring finger and had a clean cut along the wrist.

Grace pulled off the wedding ring and examined it. "Aww!" she said to no one in particularly "her husband went to Jared!" She looked at the fingers and felt them vigorously.

"They are skinny as hell, but they can be used as sausage links for the Jason's and Mary's breakfast" She picked up her knife and cut off the fingers like she was chopping up a tomato. I saw her dig her nails into something, but I couldn't see what. So, I slowly moved myself so I could a closer look.

Grace was removing the finger bones.

And she was sucking the leftover blood and meat off of them like they were popsicles.

I almost gagged but had to force myself to stop because I would make a sound and be killed.

Grace stopped sucking when she had five finger bones crammed in her mouth. She moved them around in her mouth, as she put her hands on her hips and continued to hum. When she was tired of them, she took them out and tossed them behind her blindly. I dodged four of them but just when I was about to move; Grace started to turn her head slowly to the right. I quickly had to move to the left side of the tub.

It was right in the direction of one of the finger bones.

I couldn't move because Grace's peripheral vision would pick me up and then she would kill me.

So, I braced for impact as a slimy, cold finger bone hit me in the face and then plopped into the blood bath.

I looked back at Grace, and she was back to humming a tune I still couldn't place.

She took out her the newly, bloodied knife and made love to it with her tongue.

This scene was brought to you by the letters: W, T, and F.

I was starting to wonder how the hell I was going to get out of this mess as soon as Grace smiled and moved the knife side to side. The light in the bathroom showed the tongue marks that Grace made when she was getting intimate with a fucking knife.

Grace kept moving the knife side to side, admiring how clean the knife was (probably) before stopping the knife in one particular angle.

In this particular angle she did with her knife, I saw myself in the knife.

And Grace saw it too.

I quickly sucked in air and ducked into the blood bath. I prayed to Jesus, God, and the Holy Spirit that she wouldn't believe what she saw and would continue with whatever she was doing before.

Apparently, all three of them didn't pick up any of my calls.

I saw hands moving frantically around in the bathtub and I flattened myself against the floor of the tub so Grace wouldn't find me. I heard quick footsteps going away from me, silence and then more frantic footsteps towards the bathtub.

Grace had returned with a knife.

Shit.

She held the tip of the black handle of the knife and waved the tip of the knife with force. I tried to move but the bathtub was narrow and shallow, and I had no room.

I mentally sighed and decided to just take the pain. I closed my eyes and relaxed everything in my body. I knew it was gonna hurt more than getting a damn burn on my hand but I guess I lived a good life up until this moment.

A stupid, reckless, life; but it was good until this certain moment in my life.

I stayed still and waited for the stabs of agony to penetrate my body.

But it never came.

I opened my eyes and looked at the blood. Surprised that God came through (sorta), I saw that there were no hands or knives. I counted to fifty, twice, before sticking me head out of the blood, slowly.

Grace was still humming a tune I couldn't place to save my life and was hacking away at the body's feet. She was chopping the feet like how an unexperienced chef chops an iceberg lettuce. She stopped frequently to wipe her brow and take a couple of deep breaths, as if she was in deep thought, before continuing to hum and hack away at the feet.

Suddenly, after what seemed like an hour of watching her attack the feet and hum the same damn song continuously, Grace took her knife out of the one of the feet she was working on, and placed it in the sink. She cocked her head left and right before she started singing the song she's been humming all along.

"Someone's in the bathroom with Gracie" she moved her fingers along the knives she had as I started to panic.

She knew I was here all along.

And now she's gonna kill me.

For real, this time.

"Someone's in the bathroom, I know" she picked up a knife similar to her original butcher knife, but it was almost as thin as paper- which meant that she's sharpened it plenty of times.

"Someone's in the bathroom, with Gracie" she held the last note as she moved her hand towards the tip of the knife. She slowly started to swing it loosely in the tips of her fingers.

"And they're about to die"

Before my brain could process what was happening; Grace turned around and forcefully threw the knife at me head.