7 Sins | Gluttony

Grotesque arcades echoed in the solitude of that dining room. Plate after plate was devoured by that singular man of outlandish proportions.
More!

A woman came out of the darkness of the adjoining corridor and in between sobs and fear approached a somewhat rusty service cart, in which a variety of dishes made room, full of delicacies for the insatiable palate of that chubby man who never stopped eating.

— Delicious... exquisite... I want more!

— Yes, Master Douglas.

He was chewing with his mouth open, dropping pieces of meat and sauce everywhere and his shirt, covered with a red bib, was already filthy with so much fat and stains.

— What is this?

He paused for a moment and stared angrily at the plate in front of him. In it, a variety of chickpeas and vegetables made room in a fine combination, a gourmet dish dictated by any professional chef.

— Mildred! Mildred?!

His cries echoed everywhere and were repeated over and over again. The maid, who stood behind the wall of the corridor, cried in terror and asked any god to save her from that place. He moved the cart sharply and the shackle anchored to his right leg struck his ankle already gnawed at by the rough metal.

— Come here, you filthy pig! Get out of your fucking hole!

Mildred took a deep, dry breath, then took the cart and walked to the dining room, standing to the right of her master.

— What is this?

The old man pointed to the plate in front of him, moving his right arm, which caused all the fat in his body to bounce around like jelly. Mildred looked at him in disgust and took a deep breath before answering.

— See.... vegetables, Master Douglas.

— Take them with you. I don't want that.

The maid bowed, trembling, and reached out with her hand to grab the plate, but just then she could feel the chickpeas on her face and the cold wood of the table on her skin.

— The next time you bring something like this, it'll be the last time you bring it, do you understand?!

In a second Douglas had grabbed her by the arm and smashed her head against the table. The food scraps stained his hair and his apron, and Mildred's head was spinning. The blow had been dry and Douglas still held his servant nail against the wood, moving it up and down, smearing his face on the plate of food.

— Please, Master, stop!

— Stop me? Garbage like you deserves to be treated like the filth it represents!

That mass of fat, skin and bones began to laugh and mock her maid, but she cried and cried when she was in such a desperate situation.

— Delicious.... delicious.

Douglas took pieces of chicken and meat from the cart with his free hand, putting them in his mouth, chewing, making nauseating noises with every movement of his lips.

— Please let me go, Master! I beg you! He won't come back!

— Shut the fuck up!

A sepulchral silence peeked into the room. On the table a thread of blood was pouring out every May and was already beginning to turn into a puddle and drip onto the floor of the dining room. The candles illuminated the silver color of the knife that was inserted into Mildred's jugular. She still made movements with her lips trying to breathe, but slowly her eyes faded until she was led to her immeasurable death.

— Oh... she's dead. How useless... Now who's gonna clean this up?

Douglas watched that disaster and moved his chair back, then made an effort to get up, then pushed forward, then another, and it wasn't until a third time that he managed to stand up. As he turned around and turned his gaze once more and discovered a piece of bread soaked, in blood, he slowly reached over and took that piece. He looked at her for a second and then opened his mouth to taste her, a smile was drawn on his face and he walked down the hall, lost himself in the darkness, repeating the same word over and over again, the old man being a miserable man whose hunger no one could ever eat.

— Delicious.... delicious.