Chapter 2

The family's tender touches lingered a moment longer, hands caressing Missy's naked skin, before Dad stepped back with a resolute nod. "Alright, everyone, it's time," he said, his voice steady as he wiped his hands on a clean towel. The air thickened with purpose, the herb scents sharpening as Mary and Jake positioned thick leather straps across Missy's chest, waist, and arms, buckling them tight to the table to hold her slim body immobile. Her small breasts rose and fell rapidly, nipples hardening in the cool air.

Dad knelt again, checking the wide rubber tourniquets already cinched high on Missy's thighs, just below her hips. The flesh bulged pale and bloodless below them, veins standing out faintly. He met her tear-streaked eyes. "One more check, Missy. You really don't want any painkillers? This is going to hurt bad, sweetie. The saw cuts deep, grinds the bone, lights up every nerve."

Missy swallowed hard, her voice a whisper but firm. "No, Dad. I want to feel it. Every bit."

Mary pressed a thick roll of soft leather into Missy's mouth. "Bite on this, honey. Squeeze as tight as you have to. It'll keep your teeth safe."

Jake secured the final strap over her forehead, pinning her head still. Tina clapped her chubby hands from Mary's hip, oblivious to the gravity. Dad picked up the electric saw, its cord snaking to the outlet. He flicked the switch, and the blade whirred to life with a high-pitched scream, teeth glinting under the kitchen lights.

He positioned the saw at Missy's left thigh, right below the tourniquet, the vibrating blade kissing her skin. "Okay, here we go. Just breathe steady." He pushed forward. The teeth sank in instantly, slicing through epidermis and dermis with a wet rasp. Blood welled up dark and quick despite the tourniquet, trickling warm down her leg. Missy arched against the straps, muffled howls exploding around the leather bite as the saw chewed deeper into muscle.

Fat parted in stringy layers, then the blade hit femur with a jolt that vibrated up her body. Dad leaned in, steady pressure grinding bone to splinters, dust puffing out in a fine red mist. Missy's eyes bulged, face contorting, sweat beading on her forehead as agony ripped through her. Her toes flexed wildly one last time before going slack.

Twenty seconds of hell, and the leg flopped free, thudding to the floor in a pool of blood. Dad set the saw down, clamped a sterile pad over the raw stump, jagged meat and white bone ends protruding, arteries pulsing faintly. Missy gasped around the bite, body shuddering, snot and tears mixing on her cheeks.

"Halfway there, kiddo," Mary soothed, stroking Missy's hair while Jake lifted the severed leg to the counter, rinsing it under cold water. Tina peered curiously. "Yummy leg!"

No pause. Dad fired the saw again, aligning it on the right thigh. This cut dragged longer, Missy's exhaustion making her thrash weaker, but the pain fresh and searing. Skin split, muscle tore with wet pops, bone screeched under the teeth. She bit deeper into the leather, drawing blood from her own lips, vision blurring as the second leg severed and dropped.

Dad clamped the new stump, then stood back, both thighs now neat packages of ruin above her hips, blood-soaked pads staunching the flow. Missy panted, body limp in the straps, the agony a throbbing fire in her pelvis. "You got through it, baby girl," Dad said, kissing her forehead. "Toughest kid around."

Jake and Mary unstrapped her upper body gently, propping her up to see. The family turned to the legs, pale and pristine below the cuts, toes still faintly warm. Mary seasoned them first, rubbing salt and rosemary into the skin, then scored the thighs deep for fat to render. Jake preheated the oven to 425, lining a roasting pan with carrots and onions.

They trussed each leg at the knee and ankle, stuffing the hollow thigh bones with garlic and herbs. Dad slid them into the oven, the door clicking shut. "About two hours until the skin crisps up and the meat's all juicy."

Missy, cradled in Mary's lap now, stumps elevated on pillows, managed a weak smile through the pain. "Already smells so good."

Jake fetched a mirror so she could watch her legs roast, the family settling in, chatting about her new prosthetics while the aroma built, turning sacrifice into supper.