««—»»
3Ashton slogged through the woods, cleaver at the ready. Each breath came as a struggle. His chest felt as though a soccer team had run practice drills on it. Only a red hate made him conscious and mobile. Steal his eels would he? Put a spy in his restaurant would he? Shoot him? When he found M. Gerald James he’d dice him into pieces small enough to make mince pies. James and that duplicitous little whore, Roseanne or whatever her name. Fueled by rage Ashton felt more alive than he had in years. Why, he might even condescend to let Sheree fuck him when they got home.
A sound—something large was moving through the woods just off to his right. Ashton gripped the handle of the cleaver so tightly that his pudgy knuckles whitened. The sound came again, branches snapping as something big moved through them, drawing closer. A bear? Where there bears out here? He’d been so obsessed with the Crackjaw eel that he hadn’t bothered to ask the brothers about the fauna that lived around the lake… Whatever it was making the noise, it sounded like the cleaver would be seriously overmatched.
“There you are!” Enoch hove into view, brushing some twigs out of his beard.
“So you must be Enoch, I’m certainly glad to see you.” Ashton dropped the cleaver and trotted forward to greet the big man. Why, in no time he’d have the brothers combing the area for that bastard James…
Enoch flashed a friendly grin and just as quickly sent a fist the size of a small ham crashing into Ashton’s jaw. Ashton had only a second to register the fact that now something hurt worse than his chest before the lights went out.
Enoch surveyed the prone chef and extracted a roll of duct tape from his overalls. “That guy on TV is right, this stuff is the handyman’s secret weapon, alright. We’ll have you all fixed up here in no time.” In seconds he had Ashton’s wrists and ankles lashed firmly together.
Then, with no more effort than a normal man would expend picking up a kitten, he hoisted Ashton’s bulk over his shoulder and set off toward the shacks.
««—»»
Sheree heard a man’s voice emanating from the shack. From her extended experience in porno she could tell what he was doing before she opened the door. The grunts of ecstasy were unmistakable; someone was humping someone else’s brains out and thoroughly enjoying it. The reality of what she saw was far different from the mental picture of one of the brothers slamming the ham to some local redneck girl.
What she saw made her think that the acid had kicked in again and that the previous buzz had just been a warm-up for a hellaciously bad trip…
Esau stood there with his overalls down to ankles gripping a massive cock that looked like it was the home to every venereal disease known to man. His other hand was filled with a writhing mass of nightcrawlers that he was jamming furiously over his swollen and misshapen manhood. Hanging from the wall was Carol, a red ruin between her legs where just a short time ago had been that lovely cock that had filled Sheree with so much pleasure. A table was covered with a spread of exotic foods that wouldnt' look out of place in Ashton’s restaurant. There on the floor was a mangled, shit-smeared corpse…
The man that I saw running through the woods?
Esau stared at her for a moment, seemingly unembarrassed by the circumstances. “You just hold on there sweetcakes, I get so excited when I cook up a spread like this that I’ll be able to get another nut off in just a minute. You and I can have some fun before Enoch and your boyfriend get back!”
Sheree fought to keep from gagging as she looked at the monster’s worm-enslimed tool. She’d come here for help only to find this, this nightmare… Almost involuntarily she raised the shotgun and squeezed the triggers…
The twin blast caught Esau squarely in the gut, sending him crashing into the wall. Esau screamed, slid down the wall, and shot out a stream of cum. But as the shotgun’s report had sent Esau sailing, before he’d hit the wall, he’d bumped into something.
A…drum of some sort.
Sheree tried to focus her eyes.
Yes, it was a big metal drum—about four feet high and three feet wide—and it seemed to have been placed on a metal rack above a pit full of red embers.
A cooking pit.
When the shotgun’s blast had sent Esau traveling toward the wall, he’d bumped against the drum and knocked it over.
THHH-WUNK
The drum landed on its side, and its wide metal lid popped off—
SSSSSSSSS-LURSHHH
—and out poured a flood of steaming yellow-white slop. A rather delectable aroma like pork and vegetables filled the shack, but then Sheree peered closer.
Something else had fallen out of the keg too.
A pressure-cooked corpse.
Sheree shuddered and fell to her knees as the contents of her stomach erupted to merge with the slop, cum, blood, and shit staining the floor.
Esau struggled to his feet making a strange keening soundY
“Grandpa, help me! Help me!” Esau staggered past Sheree, holding ropy intestines cupped in his hands as he lurched out of ther shack toward the lake.
"WHAT THE FUCK!!!” Enoch dropped Ashton as his brother staggered past him screaming for his Grandpa. Enoch couldn’t imagine what had happened. He’d left Esau twenty minutes earlier happily making a brain souffle and now here he was on his knees by the lake trying to keep his innards from spilling out onto the ground.
“Grandpa, HELP ME!” Esau was screeching like a banshee and desperately trying to tuck his intestines back into their proper place.
Sheree peered out the door, paralyzed by the enormity of what she’d done. There was Ashton lying on the ground with the other brother, the bigger one effectively blocking any chance of her escape, and if she did get past him, where could she go? She watched as the man that she’d shot screamed to the lake as though he expected the lake to answer him…
But then it did, answer him that is…
The waters slowly parted as something from the depths of the lake ponderously pushed its way to the surface. She couldn’t tell what it was at first, taking the translucence to be another manifestation of the LSD. Then she realized that the vast shimmering shape that blocked out the skyline was some sort of creature.
Mountainous and studded with all manner of partially digested foodstuffs including trout, a spotted owl, several crackjaw eel and the remnants of M. Gerald James and his assistant, the thing loomed over the screaming figure of Esau.
Sheree sensed that what she saw was hideously old, old and unclean with innumerable millennia of foulness. The monstrosity shifted and wavered as she watched a chimerical, constant metamorphosis; sometimes it seemed a writhing mass of polyps and tentacles, while at others it sprouted heads both human and animal and looked over the scene in front of it with a hundred pairs of diverse eyes. One tenticular appendage shot forth and encircled Esau, drawing him almost gently into its mass.
Sheree was aware that Enoch was watching her closely, escape no longer a remote possibility.
“Grandpa Ab’s taking Esau home. He’ll make me another brother soon, but he’s gotta have the right kind of female. Can’t be one that’ll die on us right away, like them others. C’mere, cutie. Let’s see what he thinks of you!" Enoch grabbed Sheree by the hair, dragging her to the lake’s edge. Somehow through her shock, Sheree noticed that Enoch had sprouted an extra set of limbs: his thick arms were now surmounted by a pair of clacking pincers set on the ends of whiplike tentacles. The transformed redneck roughly stripped her clothes off, the razorblade sharp pincers slicing away her top as though it were tissue-paper, allowing her breasts to bob free.