[ WP ] Years ago , you promised your firstborn to a witch . Since then , despite your best efforts , you ca n't seem to get laid . The witch is starting to get pretty pissed .

The nurse hands me a clear cup and assures me that there is a variety of pornographic magazines and DVDs to choose from on the other side of the door. 
 
 He lied. There isn ’ t much, at least not much that appears to have been lovingly used already. I grab for the magazine that looks the least touched. I flip my way through the pages until I get to a slightly older broad, jet black hair, bangs, pale and wrinkled, unnaturally round tits that stick off the chest like snow globes. She reminds me a lot of Angelica. It seems only fitting that I spank it thinking of her. 
 
 If only I could get hard. With enough focus and attention I can ejaculate, though saying I get erect would be a bit of a stretch. More like plump. One Hell of a way to spend a Saturday morning. 
 
 I wash my hands, zip my fly and get the hell out of there. 
 
 She ’ s waiting in the car. I open the passenger door and get in. Her eyes are rolled back again, it takes me saying something to bring her out of the trance. 
 
 “ There wasn ’ t much, but I came in the cup. ” 
 
 Saliva drips from her pale dry lips. She clutches my crotch before the muscles in my face can tense in disgust. “ Drained of thy splendor. At long last, the child that is owed will be. Good tallywags. ” 
 
 Angelica promised me eternal life in exchange for a child that came from my tallywags, as she lovingly/unlovingly referred to them. Every time she uses that word, I throw up in my mouth not just a little. 
 
 How was I supposed to know it would be nearly impossible to fulfill that promise. How was I supposed to know I ’ d lose lots of human function the night she washed me in the blood of lamb in my hospital bed. I ’ d been diagnosed and fighting a losing battle with leukemia 4 years earlier at 17. 
 
 To be honest, I wish I could go back in time and undo it all. 
 
 “ The dark moon offers a maiden womb. ” 
 
 “ ” Will you tell me now what you want this kid? ” A question I ’ ve asked before, but never gotten an answer. 
 
 Her clammy hand brushes my cheek. “ Dear, the child that is owed will be served to the house. ” 
 
 “ Served? ” I ask. “ Served how? Eaten? ” 
 
 She nods as a smile grows across the cracked skin of her face. “ The child will be raised in the coven by its father. ” She coughs, her hand still resting on my genitals makes me flinch. “ And in the seventh year, once the child has ripened, t ’ will be boiled and consumed entirely… ” 
 
 I zone out as she continues. I can ’ t move. 
 
 “ …the fingers and toes go quickest on the table. We slurp the marrow from the bone. Then we chew and crunch on those until they can be swallowed. But the ears are my favorite. ” 
 
 As she elaborates on the meal we ’ re to share, I realize I'm excited by it. Perhaps my new lot in life is this, raising and eating my own child with a witch I met on Craigslist. 
 
 “..every part of a child is delicious. Just whatever you do, make sure you do n't chew the tallywags. ” 
 

