Teddy Bear Cannibal Massacre Sample

Berries Under Snow by William Brock

Her Ownership and my Servitude started as a game- a scene we played to amuse her friends. Soon, there was no pretense- not on my part. I found I liked being the humble writer to a rising star.

Then the stroke, lightning in my brain. Words failed me, half of my face became limp, twisted, and I could no longer be her scribe. I wore a hood to cover my deformity and brought wine and meat to her table. When she walked past, I stood so I could better see her face, the way the hair fell across her forehead. I did not sleep or eat, possessed by a waking dream of touching that hair with my own palsied hand, tasting her lips and silk eyelids with my ruined mouth.

Some memories of those dark days still bring me joy. I remember the golden hair and perfect mouth of the one she desired. I brought the girl to her arms by a hidden path.

"For myself," my Lady said, "for love, I could brave any scandal. But Kay Lynn Carter is an industry, an icon- I can't let my little peccadilloes disappoint those who think they know me so well." By the sharing of secrets, I became her confidante, the one who would not, could not betray her, bring shame to the image she protected so fiercely.

She sat edgewise on the bed and told me the deepest longing of her heart - to be in reality the goddess she became on the screen. I held her tiny feet in one of my hands- such small feet - a miracle she could stand. I tried to say, "Look at your reflection in my eyes- you will see that heavenly being."

She patted my shoulder, to silence my grunting.

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