Closer and closer. Closer and closer. The methodical crunch of foot prints stalked Phoenix through a blinding veil of snow. Were they coming from behind, or from ahead? He could not tell as he stumbled through the woods. Above, the full moon persisted in its magnificent glory, a silent watcher of all God's creations. Below, besides the skeletal silhouettes of trees, the bondfire beckoned. Was it a mile away, or one hundred? Still, Phoenix persisted.
He could not feel his feet. They must be frozen by now, he thought. They lumbered through the piles of snow like married drunkards. A trail of blood marked the snow as well. A head wound? He raised numb, darkened fingers to his face and felt nothing. Traces of blood now tinged his fingers.
A branch snapped, mere feet from him. Phoenix turned slowly. Nothing but the wind, and snow. Yet somewhere, anywhere in the distance, he heard heavy breathing. Suddenly a low murmur of laughter filled his ears. His mind was racing. Suddenly he was younger and standing in a dark room. An old woman was spread out on a small, filthy bed. The younger Phoenix placed an envelope and a medium sized box on the edge of the bed, then muttered something. The woman's smile disappeared. So won't you smile for a camera, I know they're gonna love it. He was on his back in ecstasy. I know I love you better. Pain and pleasure were married with every exhale. It is your favorite foreign movie.
In. And then out. The memory was discarded, and Phoenix again found himself face down in the snow. He opened eyes and saw a stunning blur of fire. The bondfire! He was finally there. Phoenix slowly rose from the ground to see the woods had opened up in a circle, with the bondfire in the middle. It seemed large enough to engulf three horses with ease. When his eyes fully adjusted to the light he noticed a stake planted in the snow, mere feet away from the fire. A hooded woman was tied to it, unmoving. She wore nothing but the hood, tied around her neck. Phoenix warily approached before hearing whispering from beyond, in the woods. Fuck her, the voice cried. Fuck her. The heat of the fire and the curves of her naked body aroused him. He looked down and realized his pants were missing. His erect penis stood defiantly, its shadow stretched across the snow like an animal ready to pounce.
Phoenix stumbled towards the woman. Fuck me, she cried. Or was it the woods? He entered her and lost himself in her cunt. He felt nothing, not even the heat of the fire nor the wetness of her. Yet the world became her gash all the same. Minutes past, or was it hours? Phoenix looked down and saw nothing but red. Nothing remained of his private area but a tangle of nappy hairs, blood, and balls without a stem. He felt nothing yet screamed. His frost bitten penis was lodged deep within the woman's behind. Phoenix dropped to his knees and attempted to remove it with his fingers, yet they were frostbitten and clumsy. His thumb and index finger broke off and slowly fell into the snow. He stuck his face into her, trying to pry his member out with his teeth. Yet they broke off within her gash, like small rocks in a pond.
Enraged he stumbled to his feet and grabbed at the rope that fastened the hood to her face. He pulled with what little strength and fingers remained. The woman laughed. Or was it the woods. Exhausted, he pulled until he heard life leave her lungs like smoke on the horizon. She fell into his arms, and both fell into the snow. The rope discarded, Phoenix lifted the hood from her face and saw his own. It rested upon her own face, sown on with cat guts. Phoenix let forth a frentic laugh and raised his ruined hands to his face. He felt nothing, yet knew all that remained was muscle and bone.
The footsteps found him there, laughing in the snow, the dead woman in his arms covered in blood and teeth. "I always keep my promises," Father Mike said. He wore a large pea coat, black winter boots that nearly reached his knees, and a red top hat that seemed to drink up the flames of the fire. In his hands was a thin, metallic string that seemed alive with light. He wrapped it around Phoenix's leg, pulled, and slowly removed the string. The leg slowly slid into the snow. Father Mike tossed the leg into the bondfire as Phoenix sat, unfeeling. His other leg was next. Then both his arms, at the shoulder. Finally Father Mike picked up Phoenix with the ease of a man picking up a child. He kissed Phoenix on the lips and whispered something in his ear. The laughter was interrupted by an inhuman scream as Father Mike tossed him into the fire.
