Feeder © 2017

Feeder

My days, they seemed like eons, as I walked the desolation alone and observed atrocity. Smoke rose in the distance. Mountains of charred, black soot, smoldered fumes, the smell of burnt flesh. Upon closer inspection, the mountains are piles of bodies. Pyres worthy of the Titans! Pillars of smoke rose higher. Scorched dirt and burnt blood singed across the ground, the sound of oil in a frying pan. On the wind, the scent of decayed bodies sickened me. I vomit for the thousandth time, disgusted by the sights and smells. Carcasses ripped and torn away, slashed and decapitated, left slaughtered, left to rot. Genocide, as billions dangled by hooks from the shadowed heavens, while the Dark Gods, giants in the sky, drank the human blood and feasted on the roasted flesh. Souls devoured! The distorted faces of the tortured and mutilated pointed towards Hades. So close, I counted the lines, the cuts, the slashes, the intensity of misery exposed upon their faces. The chains creaked, and the bodies are hoisted above charcoal clouds against nuclear-red skies. Consumption ensued as trillions of bones rain down, discarded, tossed away after the sacrificial gorging.

And I...a lone cockroach left to find a meaning, of why I remained, the sole survivor.

A lone horseman rode down from the slate clouds, upon a steed devoid of all flesh. Muscle and bone exposed. The steed neighed not of honor, but of pain. Teeth gritted and head whipped back in excruciating agony, each time the skeletal warrior dug its spiked heels into the steed's barren sides. Bile and blood dripped out in streams from the organs like a fetid sprinkle of rain. The light drizzle touched my face and the fetid liquid, I tasted with my tongue, a taste of salty bitterness like a sea of sorrow, as the liquid rotted my teeth and I spit out the pieces. Razor-sharp splinters line across my gums. I bit down on my tongue and the juicy, ripe muscle, lopped off halfway, landed up the ground between my torched feet. Volcanic earth cooked the tongue to a crisp, brown piece of meat.

From a hole in the ground, a mutation crawled upon several pairs of hands and two nubs where legs should be. The thing snatched up the tongue in its toothless mouth, grinned, and swallowed whole. I watched the lump in its throat with horror, as the tongue headed for the rancid stomach to be dissolved in acid. The sight, too horrific to bear, awakened the monstrosity inside me, as adrenaline pumped within my veins. Muscles expanded. Thick hands clenched into fists. The power, the domination inside, propelled my rage forward, as I grabbed the deformed thing by the neck, twisted the spine in a counter-clockwise direction, snapped the bones, separated the vertebrae and proceeded to stomp the thing down into a thick puddle of mush. The flesh squeezed between my fingers and toes, as cold as ice, soothing against the heat, the unbearable heat I've felt for days, maybe weeks, maybe years, maybe an eternity.

The thing lay dead in its own mush. The skeletal rider laughed, pleased by my actions. The rider rang the feeding bell. A contraption lowered down from the sky, at the center, a large rusted tub. The skeletal rider landed and scooped the remains up into the tub with a large shovel made of yellowed, human bone. The rider tugged on the chain and the mechanism raised the tub into the sky.

And I...the lone slayer, pondered the reasons behind my actions, my existence.

I kneeled and stared at my hands. Fingertips stained dark red. Blood dripped like melted candle wax. How deep the layer of blood went, I dared not to guess. The thought twisted my stomach and transformed my insides into liquid excrement. I could control myself no longer. Tears flowed, unable to cut through the dirt and grime caked on my face.

And the sounds, my flesh trembled and gooseflesh rose all over. Please, I can't do this any longer! The sky thundered but I knew, it was the rumble of their stomachs. The Dark Gods still hungered, an insatiable hunger roared out for more. The chains descended, a glint of light radiated off cleaned hooks. Billions of cleaned hooks. They ate them all! The Dark Gods of Voraphile were never satisfied.

Thunder shook the volcanic desolation beneath my feet. I stumbled, barely able to stand up, pounding my fists harder and harder against my skull. Don't want to do this anymore! Not again! I remember now, as I, the last cockroach, the servant, the hunter, the slayer...for I am the Feeder, bound to fill the black abyss, the stomach of the Dark Gods, or else...

The rider stood by the skinless steed, laughing, "Feed them! They want more! Feed them more!"

What was left of the world? What was left to eat? I hunted down every last one of the mutated things, dragged them from the holes in the ground and stuck them to the chains, alive, shoved the corroded points through their back and under the ribcage. The colossal, rusted crank echoed above in the shadowed heavens. The things wriggled and wailed in pain. The chains ascended. Thousands of tortured screams deafened the skies, as the Dark Gods ate their feast, raw and animated. Waves of black blood and bile poured from the skies. The bones formed new mountain ranges in the east and further south.

A poisonous-green, lightning struck the volcanic dirt. And the thunder roared on.

"Feed them! Feed them more," said the skinless rider.

"Feed them? Feed them what," I raised my arms to the skies and pleaded, for what else could I offer them? But, the answer lingered before me.

A large, blood-encrusted ax, chipped after butchering and cutting through the carcasses of billions of sacrifices, jutted from the skull, in one of the mountains of bodies. I grasped the handle, raised the ax above my head and rushed the skinless rider and steed, cut them down, chopped them into pieces. The Dark Gods would have their feast. The feeding bell echoed across the still sky. The contraption lowered. Using the shovel, I scooped the remains of the rider and his steed into the tub, then placed as many of the charred bodies as I could, shoved as many onto the contraption as possible, and kept my distance as the contraption raised upwards.

From dawn to dusk, for an infinite amount of days, so many I lost count, the contraption lowered and raised, hoisting the mountains of charred bodies into the air. Piles of bones replaced the mountains of carcasses.

Masses of bones, so high they scraped the base of the clouds, surrounded me on all sides. Thunder, their growling stomachs, brought the skulls and bones down upon me. I climbed my way up to the surface of the new soil, stabbed and bloodied, stood upon a new world covered in the bones of trillions, as far as I could see. A vacant planet devoid of life, stillness under slate-gray clouds and the nuclear-red sky. The guttural roar of their empty stomachs rattled the bones beneath my feet. The smooth, yet sharp and rigid surface, comforted me. No longer cursed to walk upon blistering, volcanic soil.

The thunder deafened me. The ringing in my ears was unbearable. I pressed my hands tight against my ears and muffled the sound, but my actions were not enough. The Dark Gods roared, pounded their tables, smashed their empty plates, and stomped the floor of the shadowed heavens, demanding more.

In that moment, shaken and terrified, the revelation cut my flesh like a thousand knives and the thought churned blood through my eyes, ears, and nose. I sat and watched the blood drip upon the bones, contemplated what must be done to cease the roars of my masters.

I rose, grabbed the nearest hook in my hand and shoved the cold, rusted metal through my flesh, under my ribs, and pierced a lung. Breathing quickened. Flesh perspired and all color washed away into a pale, bleached hue. With all the strength within me, I rang the bell for the final time. The pressure upon the chain as it raised me, brought swelling blotches of tears to my eyes. The ribs protruded out from the dead weight. Mouth gaped in agony, wanting to scream but unable. Consciousness faded as I rose higher and higher to dizzying heights. The bone-covered wasteland below faded to nothing more than tiny clusters. Ripped through the charcoal clouds, I reached the pinnacle of my fate.

A tremendous force grasped and pulled my limp carcass off the hook. A cold, freezing shiver pierced through me as a titanic, amorphous shape laid me upon a smooth, filthy, ceramic, surface. Sharp, piercing objects, cut and separated my limbs. A massive, pronged object stabbed into my leg, clanged off the ceramic, and lifted the leg up off the plate. Then an arm, and the other. A large knife sliced through the torso—

The Dark Gods grumbled as they chewed, satisfied with the feast.