Prestige Breeding

Elliot Andreopoulos

          I was a traveling knife salesman, not the best job, but heck of a lot better than cleaning bathrooms.  You start selling to your family and slowly expand your customer base through a referral program.  Whether or not you make a sale, you must get at least three referrals per appointment.  After a month on the job, my network extended across the state.  Abraham and Rebecca Robinson were referred to me by a wealthy man who purchased 3000 dollars worth of knives that netted me a 500 dollar commission.  I set up an appointment, hoping the Robinsons had similar purchasing habits.

          Their house was on the outskirts of town and severely dilapidated, not what I expected.  I was certain I was not going to make a sale, but was trained to never judge a household.  I knocked on the door and Abraham answered.  He was in his late 50’s, wore tattered overalls, had an elongated beard and was missing almost all of his teeth.  I nearly vomited after smelling the rancid odor of the house.  I was escorted into the kitchen where Rebecca was cooking a roast.  I set down my briefcase and they sat at the table to hear my presentation.  I went through my usual spiel; elaborating on the greatness of the knives, demonstrating how smoothly they cut and comparing them to their current knives.  They seemed intrigued. 

          “How well can they cut through bones?” Abraham asked.

          “Whenever I eat chicken they tear the bones apart,” I lied.

          “I’m going to see for myself,” Rebecca said and brought a hunk of meat from the refrigerator.

          “What kind of meat you got there?” I asked.

          “Human,” Abraham said casually, with no indication of joking or hiding this illegal activity.

          “What is it really?  You can’t eat human!”

          “We’re no different than any other animal,” Abraham argued.

          “These knives are tremendous.  We got to get a set!” Rebecca added after easily slicing the hunk in half.

          The term awkward silence does not do justice to how uncomfortable the next minute was.  I could not talk or move as they stared at me peculiarly, like they were waiting for something.    “Where do you get human meat from?” I asked to break the silence. 

          “Come with me!”  Abraham got to his feet and I had no choice but to follow.

          We went down a set of narrow stairs and the horrendous stench intensified to the point where I could not breathe.  We did not speak.  I wished I carried one of my knives for protection.  I wanted to run, but was too fearful to.  Abraham unlocked a steel door and took the shotgun that was on the floor inside with him. 

          There were ten coops and each contained approximately ten naked human-like creatures.  Their features were distorted from the countless generations of inbreeding and their mannerisms were animalistic, showing no indication they possessed the capabilities of a civilized human.  I was not getting out alive because I knew too immense of a secret.  A creature broke out of its coop and tackled me to the filthy ground.  It attempted to rip my clothes off as its drool dripped onto my face.  Abraham stabbed it in the back with a stake, spewing blood all over me.  It struggled to stand with the stake still inside its back and tried to attack me once more, but collapsed to the ground and died.   

          “This is hundreds of years of breeding!” Abraham proudly gloated.

          “Why are you showing me this?” I asked.

          “Why not?  You can stay for dinner, Rebecca can do mighty fine things with human.”

          “You’re going to kill me!  Stop playing games and get it over with!”

          He stared at me with a face of confusion.  “Why would I kill you?”

          I realized he believed he was doing nothing wrong, convinced he was breeding mindless creatures like cattle.  I had two options; escape or play along.  I played along. 

           “Can I pick one out for dinner?” I asked.

          “By all means!  I suggest you choose a young boy because their meat is the tenderest!”

          He trustingly handed me the shotgun and I pretended to search for one to slay.  I had to kill him even though he had no intention of harming me.  I pulled the trigger and his brains exploded throughout the room.  I was instantaneously drenched in blood and tasted its saltiness in my mouth.  I waited for Rebecca to come running down in a panic, but she never heard the blast.

          I stared at the helpless creatures in pity and opened the gate to one of the coops.  They did not move, conditioned not to trust any action of a civilized human.  I went inside and every inhabitant gang tackled me to pebbly ground.  They subdued and repeatedly beat me until my body was covered in bruises.  I tried fighting back by pistol whipping them, but a creature confiscated the shotgun from me.  After a swift punch to the stomach, blood churned into my throat and I vomited it onto them.   A shot blasted into the pack.  The creatures scattered off me, moaning in agony with the embedded pellets fissuring their skin.  I struggled to my feet and tore the pellets out of my body as blood squirted out like a faucet.  I crumpled to the floor with the pain increasing exponentially. 

          I lifted my face up and looked into the confused eyes of the creature holding the gun.  It muttered something unintelligible and pulled the trigger, shooting into a coop in the opposite direction.  The recoil knocked it to the ground.  Using every ounce of strength in my body, I lunged at him.  After wrestling for a minute I was able to pry its fingers off the gun.  I struggled to my feet and it attacked me.  I smashed its face with the butt of the gun, knocking out its corroding teeth and breaking its nose.  I wanted to shoot it, but could not destroy ignorance.  I escaped out of the coop and ran to the entrance.  The creatures in the other coops were ballistic, shaking the unhinging fences that housed them.  I slammed the steel door closed and locked it. 

          I quietly limped up the stairs, blood from my wounds dripped to the floor.  I spied on Rebecca through the crack in the door.  She was basting and buttering her roast, setting out an extra plate because she expected I was going to eat with them.  I pitied her, but knew what I had to do.  When she was gazing into the refrigerator I blew a hole through her chest.  She fell onto the shelves and crashed to the ground spilling food all over her.  I felt sick to my stomach because of my illogical and cowardly actions.  I murdered them solely because they had taboo eating habits, seemed like decent people.  I was the monster.  

          I was going to leave immediately, but decided to sample the fresh roast that came out of the oven.  The meat was tough, but had a unique flavor that I still crave today.  I ended up eating two plates worth next to a dead body and with blood crusted onto my skin. 

          I left the house.  I never sold a knife again or was questioned about their murders.  Sometimes I wonder if they even happened.