100 Theme Challenge #43

43. Die

It was a boring day at work, once again. Customers had been mostly whiny and wouldn't understand a thing he tried to explain to them, and then they'd give him a shitty rating. It was part of working in the public area. He came back home to realize he didn't have any good food left. He settled himself on the couch with some mac and cheese. 

Outside, the rain was pouring hard, floods kept being announced on the news. He gulped down a beer 

before heading to bed. Next day was the same thing, and he got a headache from one woman screaming at him. After work he didn't went home right away, but instead took the train to another part of the city. It was mostly poor people down here, and the depths of the back market, almost infinite. If you wanted something, it mostly was likely you would find it here.

The subway station itself was quite an experience each time he walked through it, drunk and/or drugged people swarming around him, and he stayed aware of pickpockets all along. He shook his head at prostitutes and dealers and walked a few streets before knocking at a door. It took a while, but a man finally answered with a grunt. His eyes hit recognition and he invited him to enter.

"The usual?" He mumbled.

"Yeah.”

He looked around while the butcher was preparing his order. The place was small but well kept, everything was clean; more clean that what you would expect from such type of place.

“Here, mate.”

He paid and left as quickly as he had come in, bag clutched against his chest. Back at home, he laid his new belongings on the table. Blood sausages. This’d be delicious, he was drolling just by thinking of it.

He began to prepare some Boudin Noir, a popular French dish, with mashed potatoes and spinach. There was also a new match playing tonight,  and he eagerly sat in his couch that night. He devoured his plate, one of the best meals he had in a while. That place served the best meat for his preferences. Indeed, where else could he find human baby blood and meat? You see, Boris was no ordinary man. He had been trapped on this Earth for more than half a millennia, so to be scream at by mere mortals was a punishment by itself. It was the only job that accepted his horns without a second though, and it’d pay the bills… and the meat. Each month he had the tradition to eat a baby in the past, to stay immortal, but today that meat more rare, people kept secure their little ones, but luckily he wasn’t the only one who’ve kept trying to continue that ritual, and so a market had emerged.

So each month the ogre would eat a baby, to continue living in a world he didn't belong anymore.

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