Spoiler
There is a father/son eating at the table, the corpses are animals... any ideas how to make this less dodgy?
Thanks!
“Father?” I asked as my father picked up the knife. It glistened in the overhanging chandelier. My heart rate increased as he did not answer me. “Father!” My voice had risen as I was eager to get through his disregarding attitude.
There was no one else in the room. That is, nothing living. Dead corpses lined the table. I looked into the eyes of the one closest. It sickened me. I always wondered why he kept the eyes in after they died. Did he enjoy looking into the dead beings eyes, knowing that he was the cause of their pain and suffering? Or did he just like the… look?
He looked over the table - knife still in hand - and looked at me. Over the various array of corpses, I looked back at him. “Why do you do it?” I asked. A lump welled up in my throat as I asked the question. It was one that I had wanted to ask for a long time. “Why do you kill so many? So many more than we need,” I continued, unable to stop myself after so long of suppressing my feelings. And then after my words had hung in the air for a while, I corrected myself. “More than you need?”
He stabbed into one; the squelch of blood dripping from it could be heard across the massive room. “The meat will grow on you, Son. Besides; leftover just serve as more bait,” he stated through a mouthful.
I took a mouthful of my own, but mine was green. It tasted good; guilty free. There was silence as we ate, each of us opposing the others’ views. My forest surrounded my section of the table, his morgue was opposite. It was uncomfortable when mum and Samantha weren’t here. There was so much empty space. But we each had our sections to the table, and that was where we sat.
All help appreciated, as I said, I haven't written a story for YWS for a long time, and I want to get back into it!
