Tabasco Scorpion stings!
My teeth bit into something I didn't order. There was no ordering at one of Herzinger’s dinners; one ate what was given and liked it. Or Else.
To be honest, whatever it was that I’d just taken a bite of, it wasn’t as bad as some of the things I’d swallowed at previous dinners. It’s only fault seemed to be complete blandness. I chewed it thoughtfully, searching for anything to relieve the complete absence of flavour.
There was an assortment of sauces on the table and I grabbed a bottle of Tabasco. I figured that ought to do the job, so I soaked the rest of the tasteless object in it. It was only after biting off another large chunk that I noticed the additional information on the bottle. “Scorpion” it read.
The likely meaning of this information was already turning my mouth into a furnace. I was sweating and my eyes were beginning to extrude copious tears. The water I threw down my throat only made things worse.
I had to get out of there quickly or I would not be able to avoid a scene. The dreaded “Or Else” hung over me like a criminal sentence. I muttered something about the bathroom and staggered to my feet. Before anyone could answer, I headed off in what seemed the most likely direction.
I was lucky. The first door I opened led directly into a bathroom. By that time my stomach was ready to empty itself of my alleged dinner. I threw myself into the first stall.
Blackness engulfed me as my body flew towards the great, porcelain chair awaiting those seeking relief. Somehow I seemed to be falling into the waiting receptacle. Impossibly, my head and then my body entered that yawning mouth and I began to drop into inky darkness. The stream of rejected food and sauce from my stomach now flew upwards from my mouth, the only sign of just how fast I was falling.
I was conscious only of relief as the burning of my mouth began to ease. It was a few moments before I realised that this falling was taking a long time. I had been turning and rolling though space for several minutes, it seemed.
Far beneath me, I could see a light. It was growing stronger and larger with every second. In moments I could see that it was something on fire, a blazing inferno into which I was falling.
And then it was right next to me, suddenly falling at exactly my speed. Or was it that I stopped falling and so remained with the fire?
It was a man. A man on fire in every part of himself, the flames reaching upwards in great sheets in response to the mighty wind of this constant falling. The man turned to face me. A wide smile spread across his visage as he looked at me.
“I am Analescu, the falling god,” he said. “Come, fall with me for eternity.”
Word count: 497
For Weekly SCREAMS!!! 04.04.22
Prompt: My teeth bit into something I didn't order.