Kei-Wa

The Gatekeeper

The girl who opened the door was average sized. Her exposed skin was covered with freckles and her hair was a light brown. She wore a tank top with a bare midriff, and her shorts were too tight, making her belly and sides puff slightly over the waistband.

Her right arm was missing above the elbow. It was unbandaged and as far as I could tell, untreated. Infection had set in, and pus spotted the red-black viscera that stuck out, clinging to the bit of bone that remained.

It was not unexpected, but it still sickened me a little. Not enough to turn me from my path. I had never seen a picture of my objective, but I had heard stories of her. Many stories. Stories that filled my mind for weeks and then months. An obsession had grown in my mind, an obsession I couldn't diminish. And I started to seek her out. To at least see her once. Then I could move on.

I freely admit that my motives were not logical. The stories of Kei-wa were about obsession. They told how her lovers never left her, and freely continued to pay the price for her affection again and again.

Those who met her believed her to be the the embodiment of their desires. THey wanted her and nothing else. And when they asked for her favors, she took her fee.

Kei-wa was a cannibal.

And that was what piqued my interest.

How could someone let someone eat them? For any reason? Let alone for base sex.

And I was going to learn now.

The girl smirked, like she knew something I didn't. Which was probably true. She also had an air of superiority. Like I wasn't worthy. That may have also been true. The stories were all vague. They never described Kei-wa. They never said what pulled her in, or how anything worked. The confusion was half the appeal.

"What do you want?"

I cleared my throat. My palms were damp. "I uh... want to see Kei-wa."

"Do you now?" She leaned in the door frame against her good arm and stared at me.

I stared back, but blinked frequently. I had no idea what to do next.

She pushed herself back up and rested her hand on my chest. "What if I don't take you to her?"I coughed slightly. I still had no answer, but fear constricted my chest. It was no relief when she began to run her palm over my body, feeling the muscles in my shoulder and pecs. Her hand dropped down and pinched a nipple.

I yelped. I put my hand on hers, holding it there. For reasons I didn't understand, I didn't remove it, but kept it in place, my breath growing heavier. The girl's smile grew slightly.

"I might be convinced," she said.

She walked around me. Squeezing my nipple again, she used my shock to free her hand. she continued to explore my body. She drew up behind me, and pulled herself close, crushing her breasts against my back as her hand felt my stomach. Some fingers slipped in between the buttons on my shirt and felt my skin.

"There's a price," she said. "There's a price, ... for everything."

I swallowed. No doubt there was no other way into the door, but to appease her. Or someone. Were there others?

"Tell me," I said.

She licked my neck and held me tighter. She made a tiny nibble and my breath hitched. "There's only one price here," she said.

My mind raced. What could she mean? Then it clicked. Only one price. Flesh for flesh. How committed was I to this?

Would I have this chance again? And I knew, suddenly, that I had to pay this price. The compulsion would never leave me. It would only grow stronger. I would have to come back. If I didn't pay the price now, I would pay it later.

"I will pay the price," I whispered.

I heard her laugh slightly. "Of course you will." She nibbled her way across the back of my neck. I felt something wet and rough touch the back of my arm. Was that her amputated limb? I shivered in revulsion. Her hand came around my waist and slid up my back to my shoulder.

"What piece should I take?"

"Uh..."

"I wasn't asking you," she said. "I demand the price. You just give it to me. Or you don't, and you don't get what you want."

I shivered again. But I couldn't tell if it was fear or excitement.

She leaned close to my ear. "You have no idea what you're getting into," she whispered. She bit, hard. It hurt, but she wasn't removing anything. Not yet.

"I'll take it easy on you." She bit again, and then ran her hand down my arm, taking my hand in hers. "But I wonder how long you'll last."

She briefly interlocked her fingers in my right hand, then isolated my middle digit. She pulled it up to her face and licked it. I looked into her eyes - which were brown, I noticed for the first time. She was pretty, I finally admitted.

It was while I gazed at her that she did it. She bit down and removed my finger at the knuckle.

In my distraction I had forgotten to brace myself. I had even momentarily forgotten it was happening. I screamed, loud and long. A disconnected part of my mind wondered if any neighbors would notice. The rest of my consciousness looked at my finger as the blood squirted from it in regular pumps. small streams of it spurted onto her face as she laughed and chewed.

She still held my hand. and she pulled it to her mouth. I pulled slightly, worried she would take another bite. But she was stronger than my shocked body. She closed her lips around it and sucked it for a few moments, her tongue playing were my finger's end used to be.

At last she let me go and she panted, her face flushed and her breath shallow and rapid.

I was still bleeding, but I had the sense to press my hand against my shirt to staunch the bleeding.

"Follow me," she said.