Flesh and Blood

Wow. Look at all the hits I'm generating... too bad there won't be any wanking off of knocked up inbred mountain men... I'd probably get even more hits.

Anyway, here's another chapter to further whet your appetites.

7
A little less than two moons later, the second cabin had been cleared of all overgrowth and was inhabitable. A few windows were broken, but this was hardly a problem. The real problem was in finding way to keep warm when winter came. The air had become colder and the woods were more still in inhabitation by the animals. Geese had already taken flight for warmer climates and the sky was often speckled by their presence. Days were shorter now, and the stars had rearranged themselves in the October night. The trees too were changing, and in their fiery splendor set the forests ablaze with their shifting colors.
Three Finger delighted in the changes he too was experiencing. Not only had he stopped vomiting, he was transforming externally as well. After using the toilet one morning he looked at his unclothed middle and chortled in anticipation. A very clear curve was beginning to form in his otherwise rail-thin figure. Excited now, he felt the need to celebrate.
Scrambling about the cabin interior, he tripped over furniture as he ran to a chest of drawers and tore one drawer open, manically throwing contents aside until he found what he was searching for.
Lifting the mason jar to the light, he watched in awe at the way the sun’s rays entered the glass and lit up the fetus inside. The light danced in yellow speckles on the far wall when he turned the jar right. How pretty the little one was. Now that Three Finger knew his pup was growing well, he could thank his little keepsake truly. Setting a pan on the nearby grill, he poured the jar’s filling out and lit the stove.
He gave a shrill squeal when the meat sizzled and sputtered at him, and – as proper ceremony demanded – went to a cupboard to remove silverware and plates. Once the food was done, he quickly took the treat off of the skillet, knowing cooking for too long could ruin the flavor. When he finally sat down, Three Finger looked at the table, with its landscape of forks and knives and the bowl which contained the celebration feast.
Suddenly, his smile faded. He had put out three plates: for three inhabitants.
Two of which would not be attending the feast.
Three Finger suddenly did not feel hungry anymore.
He had trouble sleeping that night, which was not entirely unusual of him. The skinny man seemed to be made out of nothing but nerves at times and he could never stop moving unless he was unconscious – and even then, he knew he must have twitched incessantly in his sleep. When he finally fell asleep, Three Finger’s rest was in no way peaceful. His dreams were often busy and chaotic, but never before were they so disquieting.
At one point the man found himself back in the burning cabin, either prostrate on the floor in a pool of his own blood, or trying somehow to drag his brother or father out from the debris. Suddenly he was in the flames, body burning as he tried to escape, his hands and legs bound by barbed wire. The whore and her companion who burnt their home stood there and struck him with an axe as he smoldered, his sinew and flesh pulling against him, bringing his body further under the rubble and into the blaze.
His dream raced into another scenario. Three Finger stood amongst the fiery autumn trees, dodging the leaves which fell around him. The piggy was still hanging from a branch, though he was convinced he had taken it down before he left for the second cabin. The body suddenly convulsed and became animated again, reaching with one scabby, rotting arm towards Three Finger. But instead, this hanging body was the whore he had satisfied himself with two moons ago, the one he had taken her own pup from after her death. Her sunken eyes rolled back as her arm reached ever forward, and the man was compelled to flee, scared out of his mind. Something was wrong, and he did not like where he was.
Everywhere he ran, he ended up back where he had started, until he collapsed and saw the female corpse crawling down the tree like a raccoon. Screeching an unearthly sound, she clambered toward him as he trembled, strangely unable to move. Slimy, decomposed fingers stretched out and he tried to kick his attacker away, but she disappeared. Three Finger hardly had time to stand and try another escape, because a thick, meaty hand held him by the throat against the dirt. Looking upward, he saw, to his shock, Saw Tooth! He scrawny man could hardy issue a plea for mercy, or even a question of why he was being attacked, as the hold on his throat was choking him. Gagging now, he looked aside and saw One Eye, standing beside him, wearing the same glare as their patriarch. What had Three Finger done to anger them??
As he glanced at his brother, he saw something out of the corner of his eye which explained why he had trouble moving. His belly was huge! Curving upward, the globelike mass was so heavy against his body that he could feel his organs getting crushed under the weight. Saw Tooth regarded this and nodded to One Eye, who removed a large pair of shears, approaching his brother now with a grin. The big leader yanked Three Finger’s overalls off and pointed at the massive mound of flesh, now naked and heaving with its owner’s shaky breaths.
Of course. They were here to take the pup away. No other reason could explain why his pack mates were now so angry. He left them to die and now they would punish him. He was unworthy of this privilege and One Eye confirmed it when he plunged the shears into the round middle.
Fearfully staring and mouth agape, he could not scream as the creature which exited his body clawed its way out. It resembled a larger form of what Three Finger had dug out of the Lesser whore’s guts, and it squealed like a hurt rabbit. Taking one look at its “mother”, it vomited pus and lunged for the terrified man.
Three Finger’s eyes shot open and he jumped out of his stained, stinking bed, holding his throat and already brandishing a kukri knife. Shooting mortified glances around the room, he found only himself as the occupant of the cabin and he desperately endeavored to slow his breath. Images still repeated themselves in his brain when he finally went back to his bed and curled up in a fetal position, rocking himself back and forth and trying to convince himself what he felt and saw was all just a dream. But he still could not help wondering if indeed he deserved to be in the position of keeping the bloodlines alive and thriving. What if Saw Tooth and One Eye were angry with him for not helping them? The thought aggrieved him.
The man did fall asleep again that night, but he was certain he never stopped rocking and shivering.