Page 120 of Devil Inside

Does a lighthouse ever wish to be a lighthouse? Can he turn his luminosity off?

“My turn,” he says. “Close your eyes.”

“Must we?”

“Those are the rules...”

“You and your rules.”

“Trust me.”

Do we?Must we let go? Lose ourself? It’s not knowing what is coming, the slimmest risk of it all, that allows us to be surprised. It could be anything.Anything.

“Have it your way,” we say and close our eyes, sealing ourselves in.

Within the darkness, we hear a hollow pop. A bone dislocating.Is Jordan breaking? Cracking open? Something spills. Pouring forth.Bleeding.

We open our eyes, even though we’re not supposed to.

“No cheating.” There is a corkscrew in his hands, the twining pig’s tail reaching out from between his fingers, the cork still skewered upon it.

He pours our wine. “Here,” he offers us a plastic cup, then pours one for himself. He holds up his cup. “To new experiences.”

“To new experiences,” we say, raising ours.

Jordan wishes to show us his world. Do we want to show him ours?

“Cheers.”

Our cups touch. “Cheers.”

The wine is still chilled. Crisp. Its fruity hints fill our mouth, runs down our throat.

“Open wide.”

We do as we’re told, tilting our head back and opening our mouths, a hollow grotto that plunges down to the furthest depths of our body, the darkened caves of our stomach, grumbling with hunger. Something slithers. A serpent unspooling, ready to rise and strike.

“Here it comes,” he says.

This taste surprises us. It takes a moment to comprehend its complex textures.

It’s round. An ovate shape. A tiny egg? No, it squishes. Smooth skin, not a shell. The outer tegument is tough between our teeth. Durable, even as we test its tenacity.

An eyeball, perhaps? Close, but not quite.

We bite. It bursts. Warm insides flood our mouth. The tiniest assortment of seeds spread over our tongue, gritty in texture, like sweet grains of sand, wrapped in salty flesh, the loose derma sliced so thin, its fatty elasticity disintegrates as we chew.

“It’s sweet,” we say, playing along. “Salty.”

“Can you guess?”

“Fig and prosciutto.”

“Bingo.”

We open our eyes, rather proud of ourselves for guessing correctly.

“Let me top you off.” Jordan refills our cup. We cleanse our palates with wine before moving on to the next course. Jordan feeds us nuts and dried raspberries. Strawberries dipped in chocolate. We prefer the candied confections. We have such a sweet tooth.