"Scratch, Scratch"
With each thrust of the shovel Dan could feel the weight of his gruesome obsession bearing down on him, like a ton of bricks. The air was damp and heavy. it carried with it the dank smell of soil, and decaying vegetation. A fog-like mist floated, and played, along the ground like an errant child meandering aimlessly.
Dan mumbled to himself,
"Just keep digging, it won't be long now. Soon they will be in, it will be over."
He turned his head to the side, and saw the helpless shapes laying beside him in the dirt. They seemed to be straining to rise, but they maintained their muted silence.
"Stop looking at me! I didn't ask for this! You forced me. It was you, you! do you hear me?"
They did hear, and they understood. Still they made no sound as Dan continued his macabre disruption of the earthy soil.
"How deep must I dig this hole? Surely this should suffice."
Dan was new at this sort of thing. Oh, he had instructed others on how to do it, but never had he actually put hand to shovel as he was now attempting. Unfortunately, this job required it. This was different, these victims were different, this whole situation was different.
Again, he cast a glance over his shoulder at they who helplessly waited for Dan's cruel work to come to an end. Beside them lay the bags of rotting material that would be their companions in this their new home. Dan felt a slight tinge of remorse as he looked at them. How had it come to this? His mind reverted back to that fateful day, the day that marked the end for his bound captives.
Dan had not gone looking for trouble, he was trying to avoid it in fact. He was trying to leave his past behind, what was done was done. It seemed as though they would not allow it. As he walked down the aisle, they caught his eye. Once again, Dan felt that old familiar desire, that haunting hunger that had almost destroyed him.
"No! I'm done with that. I won't do it again, never again!"
The more he repeated his denials the more he felt the hunger. In his mind he could see the details; the vibrant red color, the luscious red liquid flowing across the table as his knife cut and diced each morsel. Then, mashing and pounding each piece into a pulpy red goo.
"Stop it, Stop it I say! Enough, I won't..."
Then he saw them, there standing by themselves. Dan looked left and then right. He was alone, alone with them. They looked so young, so helpless. What happened next was inevitable. As if prodded by some evil demon, Dan quickly grabbed them and stuffed them in the trunk of his car. To cover his doings he returned and gave the guard a handsome sum, hush money to keep him quiet. Would it work? It had to.
As he drove silently through the darkness he thought to himself,
"You are lower than dirt. You just couldn't help yourself could you. You are evil. Turn and take those poor things back, do it now!"
His internal urgings seemed to fall upon deaf ears. Dan just ignored them and drove on. A sudden snap of a twig jerked Dan from his reflections. He turned toward the sound.
"Who's there? Show yourself!"
He waited breathlessly anticipating the worst. Then, from the shadows, a small cat came meandering toward him.
"Scat, get out of here!"
The feline bolted away to safety. Dan let out a sigh and resumed his work. The hour was late and daylight would soon be unveiling his gruesome task. He had to work fast. With the hole complete, he reached for the bag of decaying rot. The stench was almost more than he could bear. He moved the bag to the hole and cut a gash in the material with his spade. Like a river of filth, the black decaying mulch began to fill the hole. Finally, it was time.
He stood and slowly walked to those wretched ones for whom time had so slowly passed. An evil laugh escaped his lips.
"It's time, my friends. Time to sleep, time to dream. Come, enjoy your new home, won't you?"
One by one he took the quivering bodies and laid them in the moist, smelly, soil. He gently scooped up the putrid, decaying, material and began to cover them.
Then it happened, a light appeared. It was bright, too bright. Dan felt himself tremble with fear. Everything inside him screamed with terror.
"No, No, not yet. I haven't finished. I still have..."
"Dan, is that you? What on earth are you doing?"
It was his wife. She had discovered his obsession, she had found him. She slowly looked at his work, that which he had so desperately tried to hide. Her concerned look began to change. An exasperated tone escaped her mouth as she said,
"You're Planting? It's almost 3:00 in the morning. I thought we talked about this. We don't have room for a garden. You know that."
"Yes dear, but I love strawberries, and the store brand makes me sick. I didn't want to buy these plants; they made me. I was simply in the store to get Duct tape, and there they were. They were just sitting on the shelf all by themselves and, well, I just couldn't help myself."
Dan's wife threw her hands up in disgust,
"Fine, fine. Plant your little strawberries. I'm not going to do the weeding, so don't ask!"
Dan nodded his head sheepishly, as she stormed into the house. A sly grin came over his face as he turned to the plants sitting in their new home.
"Don't listen to her, everything is going to be fine, just fine."
Dan completed his work and stood to leave. The red goo would come again, ummm Strawberry Shortcake.
