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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Writing · #679717
mine...all mine
Hungry Ever After

"I want something different." Hissed the Master at Simon, curling his upper lip just enough for Simon to catch a quick glimpse of a pearly white fang.

"Not Italian. I've had my fill of Italian lately... and not Mexican either. Too spicy!"

Simon cringed, lowering his head quickly when he realized he had made eye contact with the Master. He stepped backwards and braced himself for the expected consequences.

"Do not provoke me little one." The Master whispered softly as he stroked Simon's bald head. "Simple Simon..." his long curved fingers now caressing Simon's ear. "Poor tasty, simple Simon."

Simon felt the Master's talons dig deep into his ear lobe. Simon knew not to show any sign of pain as he had often witnessed how that affected the Master. He didn't want to end up like Simon #114 did. Ewwwwwwwwwwww. Come to think of it, "Ewwwwwwwwwwwww" best describes how all the 114 previous Simons had ended up...Well maybe not Simons #67, #82 and #91. "Oooooooooh gross" would probably best describe how they ended up and Simon #23 didn't bear thinking about.

"Go now and find me something different." The Master said, lovingly patting Simon on his bald head, while licking the trickle of earlobe blood off the talons of his other hand.

"Ookie dookie Master. I'll be back in a jiffy Master. Something different coming right up Master."

The Master gave Simon #115 a puzzled look as he watched him scurry up the stone stairway. This Simon was unlike any of his previous Simons. The Master often wondered how fresh and juicy he'd be, but this pet had been spared... for now... because there was something odd about him that both amused and perplexed the Master.

"I'll see what he brings me back tonight." Thought the Master as he mentally juggled Simon #115's fate.

"I must please the Master." Thought Simon as he scurried through the dank castle corridors. "I've gotta remember to pick up some budgie food while I'm out. I love bath nights."

Unbolting the large Oak doors that led out of the Master's lair and into the night, Simon chanced one last peek backwards to see if he was being followed. Nope. Hot Damn. Simon was pleased the Master had placed such faith in him.

These late night foraging quests were the best part about being a sadistic evil creature of the night's lackey/gopher/plaything/book buddy.

(Okay... so the Master never once suggested that Simon #115 be his book buddy... but just the thought of the Master wanting Simon to be his book buddy made him feel all warm and gooey inside)

Simon made his way down from the Master's mountaintop lair and into the village. All seemed quiet. Not a soul to be seen anywhere. Every door and shutter had been securely locked since before sundown.

"Hmmmmmmm," thought Simon as he lurked about in the shadows. "I wonder who I should ask to the prom."

Simon made his way to the first house he came to and knocked softly on the back door. From behind the locked door came a muffled "Si?"

"Mexican?" asked Simon.

"Si." Was the reply.

Moving on to the next house Simon stealthily made his way to the back door.

"It's me Simon... from the castle high atop the mountain just outside the village. The Master sent me to invite you to dinner at his place tonight."

"No thank you. Uncle Gustav went with you last year...cousin Heinrich last month... and little Helga just three nights ago. No one's seen them since. The poor Linguini family two doors down has only one Linguini left. For the past eight generations the word in the village has been that your Master is a cruel, sadistic monster with a never ending taste for villager blood and a peculiar fondness for servants named Simon."

"Really? Are you sure you won't change your mind? I think we're having Jello for dessert."

"Jello? You don't say? I'll be right out." And with that Fritz Hauserhoffen bid his remaining family members goodbye and joined Simon in the deserted street.

"Are you different?" Simon asked Fritz Hauserhoffen.

"Different? Are you asking if I like boys?" Fritz asked eyeing Simon suspiciously.

"No. I mean would you say you'd taste different?"

Fritz replied he thought he'd taste normal.

"Oh oh. Normal. Boringly normal. Dangerously boringly normal." Thought Simon.

Hmmmmmmmm. What to do? Simon suspected tonight's offering would determine whether there would soon be a Simon #116... and more importantly where this story went from here. What pressure.

"Normal just isn't different enough." Thought Simon.

It took several minutes before Simon convinced Fritz Hauserhoffen to go back inside his hovel.

Hmmmmmmmm. What to do now? It was at that very moment Simon happened to conveniently notice a paper on the cobble stones by his feet. The paper wasn't just another ordinary village flyer but the very script for this story.


"Ah hah! I don't have a clue what I'm looking at but I have a feeling this could be important." Thought Simon as he read the script.

(Okay. I admit this lacks a little something in the credibility department... but hey... a cruel, sadistic monster Master? A servant named Simon #115? Jello? A story with only one Linguini? You've been buying it so far. Don't start getting picky on me now; besides, I'm a lazy writer)

Simon made his way quickly to the village doctor's house. Being a rather forgettable character, the doctor didn't have anything interesting to say. (Just as well considering his only role in this story was to give Simon the stuff he asked for). So off went Simon with his bundle of doctor things in hand.

Back at the castle Simon could see the Master was feeling quite peckish and annoyed. *cue the sinister music*

"Where's my offering? I trust your very life with finding me something different and this is what you bring me?" The Master said softly but cruelly as he inspected the things Simon had brought back from the village doctor.

"Please Master! Try this." Said Simon as he offered the Master one of the IV bags of blood he had gotten from the village doctor.

The Master's long curved talons reached out and snatched the Blood bag away from Simon.

"Imbecile!" Snarled the Master as he hungrily sunk his fangs into the plastic pouch. Blood squirted out everywhere and covered the Master's face and hands.

"Ummmmmmmm... not bad. I can see where these would be more convenient to take on a picnic than a struggling villager but where's the challenge? Where's the sport? Nope. You've disappointed me my Pet. Our friendship has come to an end tonight." Said the Master beckoning Simon to come closer.

"Please Master... just try this last one." Said Simon nervously as he offered the Master an empty IV blood bag.

"Do you take me for some kind of stupid villager?" Hissed the Master as he stepped closer to Simon, wrapping his long curved talons easily around Simon's neck.

"Please Master" Simon could barely whisper with the Master's grasp growing ever tighter. "I don't understand but the script says for you to insert the needle into the large vein in your arm and everything will be okay."

"The script says for me to do that does it?" Said the Master nervously, peering around himself while loosening his grasp on Simon.

(The Master had only one fear... ME! He knew as the author of this story only I could write him out of existence)

So the Master did what the script said and inserted the needle into his vein. The plastic tube quickly filled with dark, black-red blood that flowed into the empty IV bag.

"The script says for you to drink Master." Said Simon #115 hesitantly.

So the Master sunk his fangs into the full IV blood bag that was attached to his own arm. The Master had never tasted anything like it. This blood was definitely different from anything he had ever tasted before. Tangy...yet not too spicy. Sweet...with just a hint of salt. A secret blend of eleven different herbs and spices. A mixture of six hundred victims and lost soul's blood from throughout the centuries.

The Master sunk his fangs into the bag and drank greedily. Soon he had sucked himself dry... and with that he collapsed into a heap of dust on the floor.

So ended Master #6's reign of terror.

Snuff out Simon #115 will he? I like this Simon.

I smiled watching Simon scurry off to feed his budgie as I began to write a help wanted ad for a new Master #7.

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