Brutal Bites: Void Mouth

  “I’m a thing, a nightmare,” Paul said, though it came out as undecipherable gibberish. “Just let me pass on. Please”

  He was a wealthy man, not very used to hardship. He sat in the kitchen of his mansion, golden hair gelled back, wearing an exquisite, pale, fur suit with red lines extending down the front. A familiar taste filled his mouth, one which he despised his desire for. 

  “Don’t worry. I'm here to help,” Duncan said. He crouched down in front of Paul who was on the tiles, slouched against a cabinet. “Smile for me would you?” 

  Paul looked into Dunkan’s eyes, parted his lips and drew them back over his gums.

  “Come on, show me some teeth.” Duncan chuckled. “You used this, did you?” he said, taking a pair of bloodied pliers from Paul’s hand. 

  Paul started to sob. 

  Duncan got up, scratching his head. “You’re an odd man Paul. Let's see what kind of stuff you eat.” Duncan got up and walked over to the fridge. He opened the door, leaning on it as he took a look inside. Unsatisfied, he closed it and opened the freezer door above. He reached inside. “Did he taste allright?”

  Paul raised his head to see Duncan holding the frozen head of a man. He didn’t respond. 

  Duncan walked over to a lamp which was sitting on the island bench. He raised himself on his tiptoes and stared down inside the shade from above. He reached his hand inside and started twisting. “What you did was wrong Paul. Did you know that? Do you know that now?” Duncan pulled his hand out of the lamp shade and Crouched down in front of Paul with a lightbulb in his hand. “You’ve made such a mess,” Duncan said, trying to avoid stepping on Paul’s bloody teeth.

  Sighing, Duncan grabbed the underneath of Paul's jaw and turned his face, inspecting it. “Ok,” he said. “Open. 

  Tears streamed down Paul's face, mixing with the blood on his chin and dripping down onto his jacket, adding to the red stripes. As Paul opened his mouth, Duncan didn’t hesitate to shove the lightbulb between his gums. Duncan gripped tighter to Paul’s jaw and held the top of his head with his other hand. He pushed Paul's jaw up until the lightbulb shattered in his mouth. Duncan's hands shot to Paul's neck. He squeezed. The back of the light bulb fell out of Paul’s mouth as he opened his jaw to try and catch air. The glass shards lacerated the inside of his mouth as they moved through his saliva and under his tongue. Duncan released, allowing Paul to take a strong breath of air, making the loose shards in his mouth rush down his throat and into his lungs. Again, Duncan grabbed Paul's throat and squeezed.

  When Paul stopped struggling Duncan released, got his phone from his pocket and stood. He dialed a number. With no response from the other end he said “Void mouth has been taken care of.