“It’s not healthy, Tom. I love you. I only want what’s best. Going to that place every day? For a month? It has to stop.”

He stepped toward her. She matched it with a step backward, desperate to keep distance between them.

“I’m hungry. My stomach…it hurts. I need it.” He licked his lips.

“We can do this together. I’ll cook your favorites.” She kept taking blind steps deeper into the kitchen while he pursued. Her back hit the wall and she forced a smile. “I only want to help you.”

He turned toward the stove where another helping of beef lay in a pan, reached out and wrapped his fist around it. A low moan oozed from his throat as he shoved it into his mouth and his teeth mashed into it; he swallowed big chunks whole.

“Tom?”

He slid his feet across the tile until his gut pinned her to the wall.

She whimpered and turned her head as his stench, spoiled food and sweat, engulfed her.

He reached out with broth-dripping fingers and took hold of her arm. “I need food. I need the buffet…it hurts.”

“You’re hurting me.”

He leaned his head over her and sniffed, eyes fluttering and nostrils stretching wide.

She tried to pull her arm free, but his thick digits held tight, dimpled her skin with the grease-soaked fingertips. As he smelled her, a wet rattle emanated from his throat; he groaned and shuddered.

“My stomach…it needs it. The buffet. Meat…”

He dropped his head and bit into her arm.

His teeth grinded back and forth into her flesh, shoving through to the bone. Blood gurgled around his mouth, and she screamed, her eyes widening as the burn in her arm raged up her shoulder. Her knees went weak, but she was held up by Tom’s grip.

He jerked his head to the side, the chunk of meat still attached to her arm by a strip of skin. When it tore free, it sounded like paper ripping. The woman shuddered and whimpered as her husband chewed the red and yellow mouthful, smacking his lips, pulverizing the meat with every crunch of his teeth. Blood coated his chin like a beard.

She wept, took gasping breaths, tried to gain her footing but slipped on her blood that continued to pump from the gaping hole. “Tom, no…”

“Mmmm…” He swallowed.

She found strength and hammered at his chest with her other hand, her wedding ring gleaming and stained red. Tears and mucus streamed and slid down her face as her arm throbbed, and her heart ached.

She slipped out of his grip and cracked her tailbone on the kitchen floor.

His frame blocked out the fluorescent light above them. A string of red drool oozed from his lip and puddled in her lap as he descended.

Her legs kicked, sliding in the blood, her tennis shoes squeaking.

She was awake while he devoured her. His weight trapped her as he took bites from the fleshy parts of her body, his breath hot and fetid.