Start Of The Bet

Start of the bet


I hate that she remembered the bet. If you could tell, I did not want to do this at all. Two bowls of human gore down my throat. Not looking forward to it.
When Carmen woke me up, I woke up. It was, really early in the morning, I believe it was either three or four. She said, she wasn't feeling well and she did in fact look a little sick. Some tea made her feel better. Whenever I was sick as a child, my little brother would make me tea. I hated tea. I still do, but it made me feel better after I drank it.

Once she was done, she mentioned the bet, some sort of a smirk on her face. I felt like expelling my past dinner right then and there. I tried my hardest to change the subject, but she would not forget about this.  She even grabbed my hand, took me to her freezer and told me to pick a body. I have never been more uncomfortable around a dead body in my life.

"Well. Go ahead. Pick one."

"I…Uh…well…"

"That one other there is fresh. You should pick that one."

I often wish I could get into Carmen's mind sometimes. How can anyone find this…appetizing? The thick blood…the almost rotting flesh…the putrid smell…ugh. I'm making myself sick. Anyway, I tried anything I could to get her to stop this damn bet, but Carmen would not let me out. So here I am, on the phone with you, at uh…five in the morning, cutting up a corpse for me to eat so that I can have relations with Carmen.  Why did I agree to this? God, the smell…