Inside the house it was worse.
Her slippery man-shoes found no traction on the piles of regurgitated muscle and offal as she tripped over femurs and ulnae, so she slid her hands along the walls for balance.
The walls were wet and sticky.
Here, this song will help offset the depravity.
Middle Of Nowhere by Hot Hot Heat
Emeralda felt her anxiety rise to the point of losing it all as she searched each room of the house for her little girl. She stumbled back down the stairs from the top floor, over meaty skulls and ribs and such. She heard the broken man scream awake in the back yard and then he began to laugh. He was delirious, of course.
She called out to her daughter and then the broken, eyeless man laughed louder and faster and in a higher pitch until he sounded like a police siren. It frightened her and she lost her traction and fell into a mess of vomitus and hair.
Fuck this, she thought, this is the end for him. She clawed her way over the jumble of bones and soggy clothing all the way outside. She saw where she had left him. His back was broken up high, his arms were loose from their shoulders, but still he laughed.
She heaved her heavy body from the stairs on the rear porch and landed on his legs and they sounded like chalk sticks breaking. Of course, he felt no pain.
She twisted his body around even while she sat on his legs. His breath began to hitch, for she was twisting his spine all the way around, and it sounded like autumn leaves underfoot when his spine came apart.
She saw him panic, even in his eyeless, toothless visage, for even in the last moments, the human DNA will cause us to strive to live, to survive.
He stopped laughing.
Emeralda pulled his head up to her mouth and screamed into his ear hole. She said, “Where is my daughter?!”
He gasped, and then he began to laugh again.
Fuck you, she thought, as she bit into his ear with her teeth and then ground them together, sideways.
He screamed again. “AGH!”
She pulled his ear away from his head and with it came the ear canal and those tiny bones; the hammer and anvil and such, which fell against her chin. It had an interesting flavor. She found that she was unable to control herself. She chewed the gristle and the tiny bones and swallowed them.
She said, “Who are you?”
But he was too busy shuddering in pain to answer.
She remembered to not let him pass away at her hands, for he would become a Walk-In lest she do this.
Yet, she swung his head all the way up so that he faced her, and as he gurgled his last breath, she said, “I will know everything you know now.” Then she twisted his head around a few more times.
He went away.
She heard her baby crying in the vehicle at the front of the house.
What had she done?
What had she become?
God Help You.
God Help Us All.
Title 5 (at 1:46:36) by The Rolling Stones