Skeet awoke and looked around the room. His wrists and ankles chafed. A single electric bulb hung from a wire over his head and it swung from side to side casting shadows which crept and danced in the silence. The only sound was his own breathing, and that was labored. He heard a slight whistle with every inhalation and grimaced with pain. He thought to scream, but couldn’t get any sound around the sock duck-taped into his mouth.

Blood trickled. Body trembled.

His eyes better able to focus after a few seconds of consciousness, he looked to his left. He saw her sitting at a table. A lit candle flickered and she dabbed at her mouth with a dainty gesture. She hulked in the semi-darkness. A mound of rippled flesh that appeared to weigh in at half a ton. Three empty pizza boxes were spread out on the floor at her bloated white feet. Her once white gown was stained by what Skeet hoped was tomato sauce from the recently devoured pizzas he had delivered.

He hoped. He prayed.

He sniffed at the air and smelled a familiar scent. Body odor perhaps? He saw sweat glisten on the bare flesh of the large woman’s arms. Skeet felt her eyes light upon him, and he turned away, closing his eyes. Was it her he smelled? He doubted it. A childhood memory flitted through his mind. He remembered poking the bloated corpse of a dead cat on a riverbank. Maggots poured out of the nose, mouth, and ears with the slightest compression. He remembered that smell.

Death smelled. He poked.

The memory sickened him. Why the fascination? He had poked and explored that corpse. Despite the stink, despite his twisting stomach and active gag reflex, he had poked. He peeked over to the woman again and saw her eyes. There was a glimmer, a reflection of his twelve-year-old self poking at the dead cat. She managed to stand. She used a walker and began creeping towards him. Skeet shook uncontrollably. She looked at him, curious. The woman held a knife tight in her hand. Skeet looked away as the blade glinted while the light bulb swayed overhead. He saw into the shadows where dead eyes reflected the light.

She poked. He screamed.