The Feast

We’d all been invited by Professor Davies and flown out to his remote home in the Scottish Highlands.

The professor was a strange, eccentric man, but a renowned expert in his specific field of interest. And we, be we artists or scientists, had all become fascinated by his work on the human condition and other, more esoteric topics.

As he led us through his massive home, I couldn’t help marvel at what I saw. Yet, my eyes didn’t wander long before they came to rest on the painting that hung over the door he was leading us to.

It was a gigantic recreation of Francisco Goya’s Saturn Devouring His Son.

Before I could stare at it any longer, however, he pushed open the heavy door and ushered our small group inside. With the smallest of gestures, the professor bod us to take our seats along a long table.

“Well then, honored guests, I welcome you all to my humble home. I thank you all for attending this little gathering of mine, as well as your interest in my work.”

As he spoke, two of his servants wheeled in a gigantic brass cloche and brought it to rest in the center of the table. A moment later, they vanished as quickly as they’d entered.

“Now then, today’s not about empty words, nor about introductions. It’s about one thing, and one thing alone: the feast I prepared for you all.”

As he said it, the professor smiled, a smile wider than any I’d ever seen before, one full of anticipation.

“Well then, Mr. Schneider? Would you do us the honor?” he asked in a solemn voice and pointed at the cloche.

Everyone’s eyes came to rest on me and after a moment’s hesitation, my hands closed around the heavy cloche. The moment I’d lifted it, I froze.

“What the hell,” I brought out and a moment later, the cloche slid from my hands and clattered to the floor.

Yet, no one reacted to the sound. No, all eyes came to rest on what was below.

I heard gasps, curses and chairs clattering to the floor as all of us stared at the roasted meat in front of us.

It was brownish grey, covered in fat and sauce. Here and there, the skin had burst open, revealing the rosy flesh below.

We saw arms, legs, and in the center, between it all, what looked like a human torso and head.

Garnished around it all were various herbs and fruits.

“Now then, eat your fill,” the professor said, his smile never wavering.

“Eat,” he said once more, when none of us moved, his voice now hard.

As he did, I heard the door to the hall being locked, and finally saw the gun in his hand.

“Eat, or tomorrow, this will be one of you.”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

RehnWriter Newsletter