Excerpt from Cancer's Requiem
It was that thing, that demon. Its foreboding presence lingered, hovering over them the whole ride back from their ill-fated trip.
It was supposed to be a vacation, a nice week long excursion to the city that ended in catastrophe.
It had started as a sore on her neck. An angry, red, swollen lump just below hairline.
“Don’t scratch it. You’ll make it worse.”
They went to all sorts of shops that day. Later, he’d revisit them in his mind, retreading the places where they were last, just as he always did when he had lost something important, trying to find where she had lost her life.
He re-walked the phantom streets in his mind, night after night lying next to her ever-fading frame, trying to find the exact moment when that damned thing bit her and devoured her from the inside out like an invisible lamprey eel.
They spent her last winter putting things in order. First the furniture. Then her clothes. Then the pots and pans, the books, the cluttered pile of things that was their life together.
He couldn’t sleep.
Not with that thing hovering over her.
Maria clung to her life until her strength ran out. Until that damned thing drained her dry.
Then, it was six weeks of pure hell, of morphine drips and dirty sheets and people telling him it’s OK to grieve. But he couldn’t. She was his life. And now she was gone.
Family and friends came, a blur of faces and condolences. The funeral was over all too fast.
All that was left was John. He drank the next three days straight. The love of his life, his anchor, was gone.
Devoured. Chewed up and spat out.
Three nights to the hour after she passed, It came back, for him.
— Cancer’s Requiem by Cassie Carnage.
Read more here http://cassieshouseofhorror.blogspot.com/2016/10/cancers-requiem.htm