The door opened a bit after eight. Footsteps swallowed the mournful whine of the rusted old bell hung above the chipped frame. Two sets, one heavier, the other sharper. Both paused just beyond the threshold.

Fred Coleman looked up from the register. A man and a young woman stood at the top of the short staircase leading from the entrance down onto the main floor. The man was in a three-piece charcoal suit. The girl wore a dress of midnight-blue, high-necked, frills at the bottom. Fred's mouth thinned briefly before he forced it into a polite smile.

"Evening, folks."

The man bowed his head in greeting. The woman smiled at Fred. Her cheeks dimpled, blue eyes creasing in happy crescents. Fred suddenly didn't mind the unexpected visit as much. He walked from behind the front desk, hands twisting in the apron hanging at his waist out of habit.

"Can I help you with anything?"

The man in the suit turned his attention from the pig carcasses hung at the back freezer. Laughter lines framed his mouth and eyes. Fred placed him somewhere in his fifties, despite the headfull of thick, black hair. Fred scowled; his own skull rose in a naked dome amid curls of rusted brown.

"Perhaps," the gentleman allowed at length.

Fred's smile wobbled beneath a wave of ire. "What kind of meat are you looking for? Beef? Chicken?"

"Pig."

The young woman in the blue dress descended the stairs. She gave Fred another quick smile before veering toward a nearby cooler. A few strips of meat were still on display. The woman studied them, blue eyes glowing green with the fluorescent lights of the cooler.

"Yes," the older gentleman agreed. Fred looked away from the woman's lovely profile to focus on the man who'd likely be footing the bill. "Pig will do just fine."

"Right. Um, we've got a couple all cut up." Fred made an aborted gesture toward the back of the store. "Or do you want a whole one? Those are fresher."

The man hummed. "What do you want, darling?"

"Whole," the woman called back. She had lost interest in the meat and was now fiddling with something on Fred's desk. Spoiled thing, Fred thought with a mixture of disgust and covetous hunger, thinks the world's hers.

"Haven't you had enough for one night?" The gentleman scolded gently. To Fred, he said, "We are coming from a party, you see. A dear friend's birthday. It was quite the feast."

Fred nodded, muttering a low, "Sure, sure." He didn't give a damn where the old bastard and his - daughter? mistress? There was a gold band on the man's right hand, but not on the woman's. Whatever the case, Fred did not much care where the two had come from. All he needed to know was if they were buying, or wasting his time.

"So, a whole pig...?" he trailed off hopefully.

"I do not believe we have enough space in the freezer," the gentleman said to his companion. The woman shrugged.

"So we finish it all tonight."

"It will be only the two of us, my dear."

The young woman paused her study of the various instruments left by the cutting board on the meat counter. Her pretty face tightened with disappointment.

"Is Annabelle not due home tonight?"

"I am afraid not."

"You didn't tell me."

"I wanted you to enjoy yourself tonight." The woman pursued her lips. The man's face softened, tone turning apologetic. "She called to say she will be a few days yet. The deal went sour. She promised to bring you something nice."

The woman sulked for a few seconds longer before sighing in exasperation. "She better," she harrumphed.

Fred's smile was hanging by its fingernails.

"The pig..." he tried again.

The woman turned her attention to the power-saw mounted at a station in the very back of the store. "Whole, daddy. I am still hungry." Fred watched her approach the machine, apprehensive. The blade was sharp. The hare-brained doll could easily lose a finger if she weren't careful. That'd be just plain bad for business.

"That's dangerous-" he began. A large hand fell on his shoulder. Fred followed it up a long arm clothed in soft wool. The older gentleman smiled at him, a pleasant curl of thin lips.

"She will be fine," the man reassured. "Please, show me what you have. I would not wish to keep the poor dear waiting. She has quite the appetite, you see."

Fred threw the woman in blue a disbelieving glance. She wasn't skinny, per se - wide hips, strong calves, nice pair of breasts. Still, she didn't look the kind that would gorge herself on pig of all things. "Follow me," he muttered, eyes on the soft skin of the woman's throat.

Fred led the way to the back freezer. He pulled the heavy door open, shivering at the first bite of frigid air. The stink of old blood and overripe flesh had him scrunching his nose. Fred turned to his silent shadow, thrusting a fat thumb to the three gutted pigs hung on thick hooks in the back.

"Which one do you want?"

The man stepped closer. His shoes caught the overhead light, the supple leather shone to reflective brightness. The suit he wore seemed darker beneath the fluorescent onslaught. Fred realized it was striped with thin lines of red, too fine to be seen in most circumstances. The man stopped directly in front of the dead beasts, head tilting this way and that. Fred held in a snort.

"What about the ones out front?"

"These are fresher," Fred lied easily. The man nodded in understanding. When he turned to look at Fred, his eyes were wide and impressed.

"This all look like a lot of work, Mr..."

"Coleman."

"Mr. Coleman." The man smiled. "I suppose you have an assistant? Or rather, an apprentice?"

"Nah. Do it all myself." Fred's chest puffed out a bit. "Used to have a girl for the desk, but I always do the cutting."

"Is she here?"

Fred took a deep breath, heart slowing. He hadn't heard the woman come in. Her heels tok-tokked against the cement floor as she stepped forward. She stopped once she drew even with Fred, the distance between them no more than a foot. She crossed her arms under her breasts. Fred swallowed.

"What?"

"The girl. The one that works for you." Blue eyes sparkled with delight. "Is she here somewhere?"

"Betsy? Nah." Fred shook his head. "She quit a while ago. Got married."

"Oh." The young woman turned a pretty pout toward her father. The man smiled helplessly.

"Two?" he asked. The woman brightened.

"Yes, daddy!"

Fred looked between them. "Um, so - two pigs?"

The gentleman inclined his head. "At least," said the woman. Fred blinked at the both of them, then decided it wouldn't do to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Alright. Which ones?"

"Where will we get the second one?" the woman asked her father, ignoring their host.

The gentleman's broad shoulders lifted minutely. "I am certain we will manage."

Fred was frowning, brows coming together as his mind processed the looming loss of business. "Now, wait just a minute. Why'd you have to go anywhere else?"

The woman cocked her head to one side. Coifed curls tumbled down her shoulder in a spill of molten gold. "Because I want two."

"There're three perfectly good pigs right here, and two more out front," Fred protested.

The woman shook her head, blue eyes wide and earnest. "I don't want those."

Fred clenched his teeth. Stupid brat. "I promise, they're all the same," he ground out. "A pig's a pig."

"Oh, I know that." The woman sniffed, nose turning up - sweetly arrogant. "Daddy, can I?"

The gentleman smiled. "Anytime you want, darling."

Fred threw up his hands in exasperation. "Alright, just point out the damn thing."

The young woman stepped up to him, wrapped her soft little hands around his neck, and twisted his head until it faced the back wall. A dull crack, a gurgle, and Fred Coleman was no more. The woman pulled at the rolls of skin that had formed over Fred's misshapen throat and giggled.

"Do not play with your food, Ella," her father intoned, amusement clear in his voice.

Ella smiled. "Yes, daddy." She kept the corpse up with a tight grip over its right shoulder. Her other hand buried in its chest, rummaging around squishy bits and hard bits until she found what she wanted. Ella pulled out her reward with a happy sigh. Fred Coleman's heart beat wanly in her palm. She watched the pretty pink muscle dance until it stilled, then extended the ruby gift toward her father. "Are you hungry, dad?"

Her father's smile showed off his teeth. Twin rows of jagged blades glinted sharply. "No, darling. I have taken my pound of flesh. This is all for you."

Ella smiled sweetly. She brought the heart to her lips and bit into its middle. Red slicked her mouth. A low, pleased groan rumbled in her chest. She licked her fingers clean when she was done. Her eyes shone with a welcomed fever. Fred's body crumpled to the floor, becoming another sack of stale meat and bone delegated to the freezer.

"I want more," Ella breathed.

Her father strode forward. His feet left charred footprints. Flames climbed from his shadow and dripped from his eyes.

"Darling, the world is yours to devour."

Blue eyes creased in happiness. Ella twined her hand with her father's so they could walk arm in arm. She leaned her head against his shoulder as they climbed the steps leading to the door. The stink of burning flesh filled the dank space. Ella inhaled deeply.

"Do you think the pigs taste better where Annabelle is?"

Her father's quiet chuckle crackled between them. The sound echoed in the night's sky. A prayer to accompany the thin trail of sacrificial smoke rising toward the heavens.