The Dead Shall Feed Sample Chapter
They ambled around the town, purposeless and unfocused. There was nobody in sight, and not a car on the road. Every shop they passed was closed, some seemingly ready to trade the next day, others boarded up and abandoned forever. The feeling of desolation and loneliness was palpable, but it had that in common with a lot of places. In fact, to an unknowing observer it could have been any small provincial town on any old Sunday afternoon. The only incongruity was the chorus of screams, distant but easily loud enough to resonate through the empty, otherwise silent streets.
Lucy Hopkins was not in the least bit surprised to hear it. She’d been subjected to it much closer up more times than she could bear to count, and had even been one of the screamers herself a few times. Today though, she would remain sensible, and stay well away from such danger. White-knuckle rides were out of the question at the moment.
They continued to drift past the rows of identikit high street stores, pretending to look but seeing nothing, and only occasionally being shaken from their stupor by seeing something unfamiliar and unique. However, whenever they looked closer they would see only overpriced tourist tat and/or useless ageing bric-a-brac. And even if they had spotted something they wanted it wouldn’t matter, since by the time the doors opened again they would be gone, back to Southampton and back to the daily grind. Yet still they carried on until they had stopped outside every vendor in town.
After she and Ray had given up their banal session of window shopping, they headed back to the seafront, and soon the source of the noise loomed into view. Another cascade of screeching swept towards them, rapturous and mock-terrified, as the final few thrill-seeking holiday makers were lifted fifty feet into the air and turned upside down.
Every other ride, souvenir stall and coconut shy on the promenade was being packed up and taken away as the sun set on the last day of the summer holidays. It had been a beautiful day to end a beautiful summer, yet there was an overwhelming feeling of loss in the air; the days were getting shorter and the children were reluctantly preparing to begin another year at school. Some were trying to squeeze out one last piece of enjoyment, such as those doing the screaming, or the half dozen hardy souls that defied the dropping temperature to splash about ankle-deep in the lapping sea, almost as if duty-bound to do so.
“We’ll come back again next year,” said Ray, as though reassuring the resort itself of this intention rather than his young wife.
She hoped he was right and indeed that they would return time and again, year after year. It would never be the same, though. Nothing could ever be the same again.
Lucy took one last sweeping look over the beachfront and out to sea, endeavouring to absorb every detail. Then she took a long, deep breath and turned to face her husband. She had something to tell him.
A few months later, and about an hour along the coast, Stanley Masters was struggling to reconcile fantasy and reality. Could this really be happening? Surely it was too good to be true? Because the gorgeous creature dancing so sexily in front of him giving those seductive stares could have been no more than half his age.
This had to be a wind-up, right? A piss-take. The fittest boy in the club teasing the slightly chubby middle-aged guy just for a laugh. But if so, then this young man was a hell of an actor. He looked like he really meant it.
He wasn’t tall, but exuded strength. His muscular abs and pectorals were well defined by his tight white t-shirt, which in turn contrasted with his glowing tan, soulful brown eyes and cascading waves of dark hair. When he turned around the view from behind was just as good, his pert firm buttocks perfectly outlined within figure hugging blue jeans. And as those buttocks inched towards him, grinding to the music, Stanley could feel himself hardening up even before any contact was made.
When the song finished he offered the young stranger a drink, struggling to get the words out because he was breathless with desire. The reply was better than he could have dared hope.
“Actually,” smiled the boy “I’d rather we got some fresh air…”
Moments later, Stanley was knelt down in the alleyway, eagerly freeing his new friend’s stiffening penis from its denim cage. Then he gazed up at the beautiful man, whose name he still did not know, and was met by a look which said “Yes! Yes please!”
Taking the invitation, Stanley pursed his lips around the erect member, which was not particularly large but wonderfully formed, and began to savour the succulent flavour.
Suddenly the taste began to affect him in a new way. He was feeling not amorous but carnivorous, and before he even knew it he wasn’t sucking the penis, he was biting it. Biting it off.
The young man reeled away screaming, staring wide-eyed at the bloody stump between his legs. Then he realised his ordeal wasn’t over and sobbed and begged for mercy, but Stanley had crossed a line now from which he could never turn back; the bloodlust had taken complete hold of all his being, and he no longer had any free will of his own. He lived only to feed on human flesh.
Too late the boy tried to fight off his attacker, but he was weakened by shock and blood loss, and was soon overpowered. Stanley clamped his powerful jaws on his victim’s exposed throat, and the struggling stopped. Now he was free to enjoy his meal and did so to the full, devouring the carcass then roaring with a carnal ecstasy that was greater than any orgasm.
The doctor shook his head grimly as he witnessed the convulsions of Stanley Masters’ comatose body. His heart rate, body temperature and brain wave patterns were racing off the scale, and yet he was completely unresponsive to any external stimulation. Unable to form any coherent theory to explain this, he could only surmise “I think we’re losing him.”