THE TRAP

You can smell them can’t you?

You can’t see them, you can’t even hear them yet, but you can smell them.

You can smell the blood that flows through their bodies.

And you can count them, can’t you?

Oh yes, you know that there’s two of them. Two fools in the dark walking right into your trap. They’re miles off yet, but they’ll get here. You know that. You know they’ll get here. No need to get impatient and end up frightening them off. Just sit and wait and they’ll come to you. They’ll just walk right into your trap. What idiots they are, and what a clever beast you are. You’ll have a good supper tonight. Maybe you’ll save one of them for dinner tomorrow. Maybe not. It’s been three days, you must be hungry. Have them both: fill your belly with their flesh. But maybe best to leave one ‘til tomorrow after all: who knows when the next sap will come walking this way.

Oh that smell, it’s making your mouth water. It’s making you hungrier by the second. Two poor boys out for a walk are going to make a feast for you tonight. I wonder what they’ll look like. You like the fat ones, don’t you? Makes ‘em tender. Lovely and tender. No need to tenderize their bodies on the rocks when they’re fat ones, that meat is already tender, and juicy. Oh yes, juicy as well.

What’s that? That noise, what was it? Is it them? Are they getting closer?

It is. They’re laughing. Oh if only they knew. They wouldn’t be laughing then. They wouldn’t be laughing then, they’d be turning round and running in the opposite direction all the way home. Best to stay quiet: don’t want them to hear you. Don’t want them to hear you and run home. You just stay quiet and let your supper walk straight into your jaws. You know hunger, don’t you? You know what’s it’s like to be without food. How long is it now? How long is it since you’ve eaten? You must be hungry. No wonder the drool is hanging from your jaws. No wonder your mouth is watering. Just the notion of eating again, and two succulent morsels as well. You’ll make the most of these two: a proper banquet you’ll make out of these two. What’s that? Is that a tear? Please, don’t let it be a tear. Why? Why do you cry? Is it joy? Is it joy because you’re going to eat again? Is it? Is that what it is? No, it isn’t, is it? It’s pity isn’t it? You’re feeling guilty, aren’t you? You’re feeling guilty because you’re going to eat these two idiots that are walking into your trap. What a ridiculous beast you are. You feel pity for your prey. You’re pathetic. …