Otis spit with a dry mouth and muttered, “Fucker.” And bent his head forward, snapping like a mad dog, trying to put the agitating crawfish between his teeth.
The crawfish backed away, just inches from his yellowing teeth and putrid breath, taunting him.
Otis let out a scream as a team of crawfish gathered around his head and latched on to his ears, neck, and hair in an effort to keep his head still. The leader crawled on Otis’ chin and plunged a claw into his left eye ball and pulled it out of the socket.
Otis yelled ten times louder that time and cursed up a storm.
The leader held the severed eye in front of Otis and shook its prize back and forth to agitate him more.
Otis immediately felt a swarm of the little bastards tearing at his gym shorts and pulling them away from his genitals. Then, he felt a horrific pinch beneath the head of his dick. Multiple claws sawed through it. Otis felt every single pincher as it cut through each bit of meat. He closed his eyes tightly and screamed until his vocal cords felt like they were bleeding.
Finally, the pain stopped, and he felt a crawfish crawling back up his stomach, then on his chest. He opened his eyes and looked down to see the leader back, this time holding his pecker-head between its claws.
Before Otis’ could spat another curse, pain shot through his left nut as a crawfish tore into his sack. Otis screamed again with his mouth wide open, and the leader tossed his pecker-head into his mouth.
It landed in the back of his throat. Otis gagged and coughed until it worked its way between his lips where he spit it out.
The pain in his testicles stopped, and the leader returned to his chest with one of his man-balls held high in its claws. Otis thought it looked like a chicken gizzard.
The leader laid the humble gland on Otis’ chin, just below his lower lip.
Otis immediately shook his head until it slid off. “That all you got, fucker?”
The leader lowered its claws, crossed them in front, and stared with its tiny black eyes.
Otis’s stared back, trying to kill the leader with the hate in his eyes alone.
Then the leader stood as high as its tiny legs allowed and raised its claws once again as if it were going to attack.
Otis felt an underlying fear wash over him. And then, for just an instant, he saw Sarah’s eyes gazing back. That last look of hate she had given him as she drowned in the bayou was there to haunt him again.
He threw his head back and blinked a few times, and then looked down at the leader. The leader was gone.
Otis felt the pinchers go to work on his arms, then his legs, and then on his stomach. Tiny little nips stole little bits of flesh and went into the hungry mouths of the crawfish.
Otis was a defeated man. He lay thinking what on Earth did he do to deserve to be eaten alive by a bunch of ditch bugs?
Then, a sound snapped him out of his delirium. A familiar wonderful sound that gave him hope.
It was the sound of a beer can opening. Otis turned his head and saw several crawfish lingering around a can of open beer spilling to ground. They had pieces of his flesh in their claws and would take a bite of meat and then lap at the pool of beer.
The leader raised a claw full of meat as Otis looked on; a big frothy beer mustache smeared just above its mouth.
Before Otis passed out from blood loss, he could have sworn he had heard Sarah’s voice say, “Ain’t nuthin’ like live bait.”
The End
From Severed PRESS
Lost World of Patagonia is a prehistoric thriller filled with murder, mayhem, and savage dinosaur action.
From Severed PRESS
Lost World II: Savage Patagonia is double the action, double the dinosaurs, double the fantastic adventure!!!
Table of Contents
A Werewolf in our Midst 4
Bad Vibes 13
The Sins of the Father 23
The Time Potter’s Wheel 35
Empathy 44
Revenge is Best Served Wet 50
The Corn Has Eyes 58
Need 62
It Came from Black Swamp 68
Schism 80
Time and Tide 88
Do Unto Others 99
The Art of War 104
Red Rain 118
The Garden of Fear 128
Live Bait 139
Mind Hemorrhages: Dark Tales of Misery and Imagination Page 26