The Feast

She is wearing a wine taffeta off shoulder gown with detachable bow sleeves. She crosses her legs and waits for him with red vintage wine and two empty glasses on the table. In the background soft saxophone plays and candles lit the room with their soft flames. The room smells very good from the aromatic candles and the boquet of fresh flowers placed intermittently in the room.

Overall, it is a romantic date dinner with a beautiful damsel waiting for her mate. And there he arrives in a black suit, he has a perfect jaw line that accentuates his masculine chiselled features. His olive skin blushes the night and her heart sinks in her chest.

She asks, 'Is the job done?'

He smiles, his lips slightly parting and replies, 'Let's celebrate'

She pours the wine in the glasses, they toast, and take two or three sips, and he asks her to dance with him.

They sway, they hug, he twirls her to the beat of the music while their bodies sway in rhythm in each other's embrace. She smells another woman's perfume on his suit and becomes restless. She stops abruptly and says 'Enough. Time for dinner.'

He laughs and teases her, 'let us complete the dance and then let us feast.'

But she is adamant and he refuses to budge. So she removes the well hidden knife in her thongs, and with one swing, chops his head off. The separated head rolls and stops at the corner of the table where they were drinking wine couple of minutes back.

He grows another head, this time not so handsome but a loathsome head. His eyes are huge and blown out, the skin on his face is pale white and scarred heavily, there is no forehead, the head and forehead is all combined into one, his ears are sort of folded and kind of stitched into small triangles and a small saw chain runs from ear to ear piercing through his nose. He laughs out loud and his laugh is like a serpent's hiss while his double tongue rolls and flickers out enticing her.

She drops her knife shocked and, then bursts into a fit of laughter. She turns into an old witch, one of her eyes dropping out of its sockets, and the right hand dangling from the shoulder supported by loose threads of flesh. She does not have a nose, just two nostrils and has a hump on her back. Her laugh has turned crocky and shaken, her mouth flashing with crooked, black teeth of all designs and no tongue at all.

They together open the coffin which he had just bought from his job, a fresh kill, a young woman, and both of them pounce on the body for their feast of the Halloween. While, the music continues to play softly, two ghastly shadows appear on the walls of the spooky dark room, candles are now blown out and the two half filled wine glasses waiting to be emptied after the feast.