Member-only story
Blood Meal
A young woman whose horticultural devotions conceal sinister deeds.
He courted me with cut flowers: long-stem red roses, dashing tulips, picture perfect daisies. I threw them all out. These were already dead; their mouths could not be fed from the fount of blood red devotion. Tossing them into the garbage as I shook my head in full view of the street, for I knew he lurked somewhere nearby, watching with rapt eyes to see if I would accept his pitiful tokens.
What a complete and utter waste.
I’d met the courter quite by accident; he was working construction at a hospital I’d visited, and quite literally bumped into me as I was leaving. I’d nearly spilled all my precious cargo on the floor, but caught it before it could fall from the secret pouch I’d sewn into the lining of my scrubs. His startled blue eyes locked onto my green eyes; an instant claiming took place. He bound himself to me, I could tell, though at the time he did not know just what exactly that entailed. A toolbelt that hung on his waist clipped my hip, bruising the delicate skin. Later, the bruise would darken, turning green; the skin peeled off completely.
It hurt, yet I knew it would grow back. It simply took patience, and a lot more nourishment.
He apologized profusely as I kept walking, afraid that if I hung around too long, others would become suspicious…
