Alex and The Gruff (A Tale of Horror)

by C. Sean McGee

CHAPTER TWETNY-THREE

  Alex watched The Man as he spooned the food into two small bowls. He had his back turned and he couldn’t see that Alex’s hand was reaching across the table and his fingers were feeling around for the handle of a knife.

  “Remember,” said The Man, “he only needs one mouthful. That’s all. But he won’t eat it if he thinks it was me who made the food. He thinks I’m trying to kill him. He doesn’t trust me anymore. You’re gonna need a reason too, that you didn’t kill me. We’ll say I saw you reaching for a knife…”

  Alex froze. The Man was looking at the bowls of food. Surely he couldn’t have seen. Alex pulled his hand back. It coiled like a spring and he held it tight against this body.

  “But he won’t believe just that. So I’m sorry Alex. I have to do this.”

  Alex didn’t know what he meant.

  The Man turned and he punched Alex in the face. Alex fell back against the floor. He hit the back of his head hard on the ground. It was true, though. A punch didn’t hurt at first. The pain came afterwards.

  “It has to look like you were crying,” said The Man.

  He took a handful of peppers and he squashed them into Alex’s eyes. It burned so much. His eyes instantly watered but not from the pepper. He was already crying from the punch to the face and the knee that was pressed against his chest, squeezing the air out of his lungs.

  Alex was gasping. The Man was on top of him; his knee on his chest and his hands around his throat. He was smiling as if this were some game that they were both winning. The Man leaned close to Alex’s ear. So close that his tears ran down onto The Man’s cheeks. And The Man whispered in his ear.

  “Just one bite.”