*contains sexual and horror content*

“Now. Let the debauchery…BEGIN!” Mitchel lifted a hand into the air like a gameshow host.

Vivian launched from her chair into John’s lap, eyes hungry with desire. She grabbed each side of his face and kissed him deeply. Jamie stood, cock already hard, and ripped the tablecloth to the floor. Plates shattered as he threw Loraine onto the oak and straddled her. Mitchel sank back into his chair with a grin. He seemed unphased by the breaking of his fine China.

John and Vivian had progressed to fucking, their lips still glued to each other, moaning into each other’s mouths. Jamie had a tight grasp on Loraine’s head and was pushing his dick deep into her throat. The ancestral portraits lining the walls watched them all with dismay. Mitchel applauded them with glee, “Yes! Yes! Let go of the laws that have bound you and release the animal within!”

I remained paralysed in my seat. I was no prude, but I had no intention to join in, nor did anyone seem interested in me. I planned a polite exit. Excuses of work in the morning and needing an early night. Abba blaring in the car on the way home. A bubble bath to wash away the peculiar evening.

I could tell Vivian was close to climax from the growing volume of her screams. At the moment of orgasm, she peeled her mouth from John’s and sank her teeth into his earlobe. His moan of pleasure morphed into agony as the lobe ripped away. Vivian spat it onto the table, her mouth ringed with blood. I put a hand to my mouth to muffle the scream and hold back the bile.

“Bravo!” Yelled Mitchel over the screams, “Let in the bloodlust!”

The encouragement seemed to overshadow John’s pain. He pushed Vivian to the tile floor and flipped her onto her stomach. He smeared the blood dripping onto the bare skin of her back as he fucked her. He grabbed a fork, forgotten on the floor, and stabbed it into her buttock.

I could stomach no more. I needed to leave. The earlobe felt like it was staring back at me. I pushed back my chair and stood.

“I need to go,” I said to Mitchel, “Thank you for the meal.”

I headed for the door. All the guests looked at me. Jamie removed his cock from Loraine’s mouth and stood in the doorway. He towered over me.

“I’m afraid that’s not an option, my dear.” Said Mitchel. The rest remained silent.

“I need an early night. I have work in the morning.”

“We both know that isn’t true.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are Cynthia Jane Desmond of Rockhampton. 34 years of age. Never married. No children. Family all deceased. No close friends. And you have not had a steady job in the past three years. That is why we picked you.”

“How do you know all this? Picked me for what?” My head was spinning so fast I thought I might faint.

“Well, you told us some of it. The rest was our own reconnaissance. We needed to make sure there would be no one to miss you.”

My heart pounded in my chest. I shoved Jamie with all my strength. He didn’t move a millimetre, “Let me out!”

“Don’t worry. We aren’t going to harm you…yet,” Mitchel twisted his moustache between his fingers, “We have to give you a fighting chance. Sit down and we will explain the rules.” He gestured at my empty chair.

“No,” I pleaded, “No, I need to go now.”

“If you aren’t going to comply, we will have to make you.” The smile was still there, but his voice was a growl.

Shaking, I sat back down. Jamie stayed in the doorway.

“There, that’s better, isn’t it?”

I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling exposed despite being the only one clothed, “Explain, then.” I said.

“You were invited to my home because you are…how should I put this? A deadbeat. Your life is worthless. Meaningless. Forgettable. You have lived your whole life poor, and you are destined to die equally poor. We are offering you a chance to change that.” Mitchel, always a showman, paused for effect, “We elites are offered very few opportunities for entertainment. Even the exceptional experiences become mundane when you have enough money. So each month, we host a little party. We pluck a peasant from their painful life and offer them a new beginning.”

I wanted to be stung by his insults, but I was too busy searching for escape. A butter knife just out of reach. A steak knife on the other side of the room.

“What do you want from me?” I pleaded. I tried keep my voice steady, but it emerged a terrified squeak.

“If you make it to morning, you will be free to go home. And you will leave with one million dollars.”

“And if I don’t?” My breath was ragged.

“The same thing will happen to you as all the others,” Mitchel paced to a shattered plate. He pulled a piece of meat from the floor and held it towards me in his palm.

I vomited on the floor beside my chair, thankful to purge the stuff from my system.

“Now,” Mitchel clasped his hands together, “Our time is up. You better run.”