FEEDER – A modern dark fairytale of a boy and a girl wrapped up in death, denial and magic.
I’ve been working on an exciting new project – a dark fairytale horror I’ve been writing and illustrating.
This is part 1, and I’ll be posting subsequent parts every fortnight.
So get ready for some creepiness and magic, and read on!
Will told everyone that his mother was sick, but the truth was she died a few weeks ago. That’s why he was still finding it hard to believe that she was standing at his bedroom door right now.
“Come on Will, it’s time.”
“Again? We only did it yesterday. Can’t we leave it for today?”
“No, let’s do it now, please. I just feel so weak again.”
He scratched his head and exhaled.
“I suppose I have to, then, don’t I?”
“It shouldn’t be a chore for you to help your mother.”
She was right, he supposed, it shouldn’t – especially since he was the one who brought her back.
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
He picked up the photo he’d placed downside behind him on the bed. It was from when he and his father went fishing a few years ago. He got up and slid it back between two school textbooks on his shelf – Biology: the Science of Life and King James and the Era of the Witch Trials.
Myriam was waiting for him in her bedroom. She patted the space on the bed next to her and he sat. She moved behind him, gently pushed his head to the side and pulled the collar of his T-shirt down towards his shoulder. He began to hear that only recently familiar sound – like the grating squeak of teeth grinding in the night. Her incisors were changing shape. In a moment, a crescent of jagged, porcelain shards punctured his flesh. They re-opened yesterday’s wounds, not even fully scabbed over yet.
Will winced at the sucking sound. The pressure in his veins as the life drained out of him made him feel sweetly weak, like slipping into a comfortable coma. I shouldn’t have brought her back, he thought, but immediately remembered the pain of her death, the prospect of living without her.
“You’re such a good boy, my sweet little honey pot.”
“OK, that’s enough,” he pulled himself away with a shudder. “And don’t call me that – it’s weird.”
“Oh, I’m sorry! I only need to do this to stay alive, thanks to you messing up the waking spell, but that’s fine – we’ll just stop whenever you want.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Maybe you want me to starve to death, is that it?”
Will’s glared at her. His blood was smeared on her chin and the glassy whites of her eyes were a lace web of red capillaries.
“No, obviously I don’t. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have agreed to do this now, would I?”
“I knew I’d become too much of a burden to you sooner or later.” She got up and stomped over to her dresser. “You should have left your useless, old mum alone, like you father did,” she growled into a tissue.
A thorny knot of rage twisted in Will’s stomach. He turned to leave, but a sharp sob suddenly pierced the quiet of the dark room. Her shoulders were quaking. Silently he mouthed a curse word.
“Look… I’m sorry, mum,” he said softly, placing his hand on her back, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
She scrunched up the tissue, now soggy with clear snot and tear-diluted blotches of rusty red, and sighed.
“It’s alright. I know this is difficult for both of us. Do you think we could finish? I’m not quite done yet.”
He sat back down. As he tensed at her teeth sinking into his neck again, he tried to remember everything he did the night he brought her back, trying to figure out what exactly he did wrong when he used the waking spell on her, what he did wrong to have created this hunger.
“Do you want a cup of tea and biscuit, love? I got the chocolate-chip ones you like,” she called from the kitchen when she’d finished.
“Sure, why not,” he answered flatly.
“There are only a couple left, so you’ll have to get some more with the shopping tomorrow. I’ll put them on the list for you.”
Yay! You made to the end of part 1! Thanks for sticking with me.
Let me know what you thought in the comments below and come back next weekend for part 2!