feeling was strongest, beside a shabby trailer. She walked all around. It had a flat base and then bars all the way to the roof. She should leave. But she couldn’t go. She peered into the gloom.
There in the corner was a curled shape, with a slowly moving head. As Ava’s eyes adjusted to the gathering dark she saw a tail thumping heavily on the wooden floor. The stripes of light and shadow were not just cast by the bars of the cage, but were part of the shape.
The tiger moved a heavy paw to hold down a hunk of meat as it chewed. Its amber eyes looked straight at her. Ava wanted the meat – no, she
needed
the meat. She had no idea why. There were two pieces: one under the tiger’s paw and a smaller piece near the bars. She could reach it if she dared. She could reach it, and daring didn’t come into it.
She waited until the tiger’s head was down, chewing, and then pushed a hand through the bars towards the smaller piece. The sleeve of the fur coat didn’t fit, it got stuck. But now the tiger was looking at her. She didn’t care. She struggled out of the coat and dropped it, then slipped her arm easily between the bars.
The tiger snarled.
‘Shhhhh,’ she said. ‘There, there. Nice tiger.’
One paw stretched out, lazy at first, then lightning fast. It swiped her arm and slashed it from elbow to wrist. Ava screamed, pulled back her ravagedarm and stared in horror at the gaping wound, waiting for the blood to flow.
And she waited.
The sides of the parted muscle stood pink and firm, but unbloodied. She screamed again. And again and again. Very slowly, a trickle of red formed inside the cut. It was like a river in a valley, fed by streams, but all in slow motion.
Ava watched in horror, too afraid to feel the pain. And too afraid to notice the person approaching from behind, until a hand covered her mouth and an arm clamped across her chest.
Two
Ava bit the hand that was over her mouth. Another hand came up, replacing it. The arm was bare – astonishing in the cold – and it was a woman’s arm, but thick and strong.
‘Let me go!’ Ava tried to shout, but her voice was muffled by the arm.
Ava bit again, as hard as she could, and suddenly felt warm blood in her mouth. She kept her teethin the flesh, then dug them in harder, and sucked without thinking and without feeling anything but a flood of pleasure.
The woman swore and hit Ava around the head, hard, so that she fell over. Then the woman stood nursing her arm and looking at Ava, with blood around her mouth, lying in the snow.
Ava’s arm, ripped open, was barely bleeding. The woman stared at it and started to back away. Ava licked the blood from her lips and lunged towards the woman’s ankle, mouth gaping, desperate for more.
The woman turned and ran, shouting: ‘Lugat, lugat!’
Ava had no idea what it meant. No one came from any of the trailers or caravans. Indeed, lights went out – no one was going to help the woman.
Left alone, Ava grabbed a handful of blood-spattered snow and filled her mouth with it, desperate for every last drop of the blood, faint with the longing for more. But the woman was gone, and Ava didn’t dare try again to take meat from the tiger.
A distant scream, that could have been a person or an owl, roused Ava. She looked around. Was that a dark figure, hurrying through the trees? She wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was just a shadow. She picked up her coat and made her way slowly back to the city.
She found a restaurant with a menu in English. When the waiter came back, she pointed to ‘steak’. He asked her a question which she didn’t understand . She took the pen from him and drew on his pad – a steak dripping with blood. He laughed.
Ten minutes later he brought her a steak thatwas barely cooked – a large slab of bleeding meat. Ava was so excited she struggled to eat it with a knife and fork. She longed to pick it up in her hands and bite, sucking the blood from it like you would suck juice from an orange.
* *
There in the corner was a curled shape, with a slowly moving head. As Ava’s eyes adjusted to the gathering dark she saw a tail thumping heavily on the wooden floor. The stripes of light and shadow were not just cast by the bars of the cage, but were part of the shape.
The tiger moved a heavy paw to hold down a hunk of meat as it chewed. Its amber eyes looked straight at her. Ava wanted the meat – no, she
needed
the meat. She had no idea why. There were two pieces: one under the tiger’s paw and a smaller piece near the bars. She could reach it if she dared. She could reach it, and daring didn’t come into it.
She waited until the tiger’s head was down, chewing, and then pushed a hand through the bars towards the smaller piece. The sleeve of the fur coat didn’t fit, it got stuck. But now the tiger was looking at her. She didn’t care. She struggled out of the coat and dropped it, then slipped her arm easily between the bars.
The tiger snarled.
‘Shhhhh,’ she said. ‘There, there. Nice tiger.’
One paw stretched out, lazy at first, then lightning fast. It swiped her arm and slashed it from elbow to wrist. Ava screamed, pulled back her ravagedarm and stared in horror at the gaping wound, waiting for the blood to flow.
And she waited.
The sides of the parted muscle stood pink and firm, but unbloodied. She screamed again. And again and again. Very slowly, a trickle of red formed inside the cut. It was like a river in a valley, fed by streams, but all in slow motion.
Ava watched in horror, too afraid to feel the pain. And too afraid to notice the person approaching from behind, until a hand covered her mouth and an arm clamped across her chest.
Two
Ava bit the hand that was over her mouth. Another hand came up, replacing it. The arm was bare – astonishing in the cold – and it was a woman’s arm, but thick and strong.
‘Let me go!’ Ava tried to shout, but her voice was muffled by the arm.
Ava bit again, as hard as she could, and suddenly felt warm blood in her mouth. She kept her teethin the flesh, then dug them in harder, and sucked without thinking and without feeling anything but a flood of pleasure.
The woman swore and hit Ava around the head, hard, so that she fell over. Then the woman stood nursing her arm and looking at Ava, with blood around her mouth, lying in the snow.
Ava’s arm, ripped open, was barely bleeding. The woman stared at it and started to back away. Ava licked the blood from her lips and lunged towards the woman’s ankle, mouth gaping, desperate for more.
The woman turned and ran, shouting: ‘Lugat, lugat!’
Ava had no idea what it meant. No one came from any of the trailers or caravans. Indeed, lights went out – no one was going to help the woman.
Left alone, Ava grabbed a handful of blood-spattered snow and filled her mouth with it, desperate for every last drop of the blood, faint with the longing for more. But the woman was gone, and Ava didn’t dare try again to take meat from the tiger.
A distant scream, that could have been a person or an owl, roused Ava. She looked around. Was that a dark figure, hurrying through the trees? She wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was just a shadow. She picked up her coat and made her way slowly back to the city.
She found a restaurant with a menu in English. When the waiter came back, she pointed to ‘steak’. He asked her a question which she didn’t understand . She took the pen from him and drew on his pad – a steak dripping with blood. He laughed.
Ten minutes later he brought her a steak thatwas barely cooked – a large slab of bleeding meat. Ava was so excited she struggled to eat it with a knife and fork. She longed to pick it up in her hands and bite, sucking the blood from it like you would suck juice from an orange.
* *
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