Wednesday, 31 October 2012

Horror Fiction: The Feast

Happy Halloween

Edward was ushered through the dining room and into the drawing room at the back of the house, suspecting guests were taken that route solely to admire the spread upon their arrival. The table was set with the finest dining settings Edward had ever seen. There before him spread a spectacular culinary sight; a display of fruit that blazed in a fury of colour at the centre of the regal twelve seated oak table. Wines lined the bar behind in age matured bottles eager to be tasted; the place-settings were accessorised with the purest silver cutlery, spotless and glimmering, and the finest china, leafed with gold.


  It was exactly as he would have had it, had he the means to host a dinner party such as this. But perhaps his luck was changing. The evening did promise the attendance of some of the most prestigious and wealthy folk of London and with it he so hoped the tides of his fortune would change.


  As a humble bank clerk, it was rather unexpected when Edward received his hand delivered invitation; which in itself was a small embossed work of art. However, he had always expressed his ambitions to progress, in business as well as socially, to those who could help that happen. He had always felt in his heart that he was destined for better things and that he was above the slow, irritating nobodies that swarmed him daily to the point of claustrophobia. And here was proof. Look at him now. He sat in the Chairman’s home, on the finest of leather armchairs with the finest of rugs beneath his black polished shoes, being offered the finest of whiskey in the finest of crystal. He allowed a moment to rest back in his chair while no one was watching, and he smiled.


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