Ambrosia

I walk down the poorly lit stairwell to my laboratory. Mother never ventures past the door. She knows better. Ever since father…died, she seems quite amenable to anything I request. She lives by the adage, “ignorance is bliss…”

Arriving at the bottom of the stairwell, I turn right, taking the keys from my lab coat as I cross the small space. I pause to listen at the door. No sound. She must have dozed. Good. A resting body will be warm and pliant. It will be easier to initiate the experiment. I smile as I open the door, thinking easy was not a prerequisite.

“Katarina,” I whisper upon entering the room. Silence meets my voice but there is a noticeable change in the air. Fear. I could feel it on my skin. Smell it. Breathing in deeply, I close and lock the door. My eyes adjust quickly to the darkness of the room. Katarina lay where I had left her, as I had left her. Arms and torso restrained, wrists and ankles handcuffed to the sides of the examination table.

“Katarina,” I whisper again, this time bending over next to her ear as I caress her with my gloved hand. She whimpers. I close my eyes in an effort to control my rising excitement.

“Ah, you are awake. Good. So much better for test results.” I can’t help myself, I lean over and lick where my hand had been.

She screams, but the sound is muted by the contraption I had fit on her face to keep her silent…and to capture the spittle…would it taste sweet full of terror? I think it will be like ambrosia.

“Katarina, I won’t say ‘don’t worry,’ or ‘this won’t hurt.’” She screams uselessly. I imagine the taste of the drops collecting. “It will almost be like visiting Dr. Hamlin.” He was the only doctor in the small town. He served as general practitioner as well as specialist of whatever need presented itself to the dwindling population of Feurrach.

“I can alleviate one fear, Katarina.” She stills. “It is not my intention to sully you by invading your virginal territory. Well, at least not in the way a woman might fear.” I could not hold back a chuckle.

“Also, I am not certain you will feel pain.” I can hear her rapid breathing. “I only suspect it. It’s a hypothesis. No need for details. It just concerns you, a rat, and fear.” She screams. I lick my lips.

“What I ask myself,” I whisper as I walk to the head of the table and bend to her ear,” is how sweet will you taste when pain, fear and terror reign?” I touch her face. Wet. Ah…I lick my fingers. Then her face. It was almost my undoing…but I promised. I sigh and kiss her. “Don’t worry,” I whisper. “I am a man of integrity. Science is far more important to me than satisfying base needs. I lick her once more. “Don’t move,” I chuckle at my own joke. “I’ll be right back.”

I unlock the door and go into the adjoining room. Crossing the small space, I unlock another door. Inside, I can hear the twittering and scampering of my dear pets. I open the first cage and little Rolf jumps into my hand, seeking what he will not find.

“Not yet, dear little one,” I croon, petting him. “I have a special treat for you. I put him in my pocket and leave the room, locking the door.

That evening, sitting in front of the fireplace, Mother asks tentatively, “What is that you’re drinking, Oliver. Gin? That’s not like you.”

“Oh, no, Mother. You know I wouldn’t infect my mind with that filth. I am not Father.” I sip, leaning back in my chair. Ahhh. Ambrosia. Leaning back with eyes closed, I wonder what theory I might prove next.