Fiction: A Chapter of Weird Dreams

Susan could not believe what she had heard.
"Eat the baby? Eat the baby?", She kept repeating silently.
She looked at the baby, beautiful and peaceful even though she looked like she was dying.
Surely, there was a way.

Ada gave Susan time.
Time because she knew the baby would eventually die and then, they would have no option but to cook it.
She, Ada, had fed on human flesh before.
During one of her water sprinting classes, they had all gone to some abandoned river at the edge of the Western Coast,
The Instructor had forgotten her when it time to leave.
She had been stuck there for twelve days until a wandering man found her.
By then, she had eaten three of her fingers.
But no one would know now,
She had prosthetic ones.

The baby died. A very uneventful death.
They cut her up and made some parts into stew.
For some reason, Ada still had a lot of food items.
They fried the remaining part for garri.
Not 'they' really, it was mostly Ada.

Susan looked like a half dead sloth.
Slower than usual.
She didn't cry. The grief was of the type that even tears would not fall.

Ada's plan was to give Susan a day to recuperate and then begin teaching her the basics of water walking.
It was a skill she needed to have if they were going to cross to the subway successfully.

Susan hung herself.

The day it happened,
It was just few hours after the baby died.
They had had a delicious dinner of stew and rice with lots of meat.
Ada had even opened a bottle of wine.
Some sort of celebration of life.
The Mikikos hadn't killed anyone recently.
There was also news that some scientist had created a substance that could kill them.
Susan seemed fine.

Ada found her body dangling from the bathroom shower.
It was the old metal type.
The shower head could stretch and twist for miles.
Ada looked at Susan's body and in one thought, decided never to find refuge at the Subway.
She'd remain indoors while the scientists tested out their weapon.
God had provided more meat, Food would not be a problem.

The End.

Resa

For me, Writing is therapeutic, alongside listening to Rap, Highlife and Classical Music. I bite my nails when bored.