Chapter Four: The Barbecue

The backyard had changed by the time they returned home.

The frantic excitement of trick-or-treating had softened into something slower beneath the cold autumn night. Children wandered between houses carrying buckets swollen with candy while adults gathered near fences and firepits with drinks warming their hands. Smoke drifted through the neighborhood carrying the smell of charcoal and cooked meat.

Warm lanternlight glowed from Matilda’s backyard.

Lola pushed open the gate first.

“We’re back!”

Conversation drifted across the yard immediately. Someone waved from the patio. Another neighbor called hello to Lola while music hummed softly somewhere near the house.

Riley followed more quietly behind them.

The backyard looked different now. The paint table from earlier had been cleared away entirely, replaced by long folding tables covered with trays of food wrapped carefully against the cold. Bowls of chips and candy sat between bottles and paper plates while smoke curled lazily upward into the dark sky.

And near the center of the yard stood the spit.

Riley slowed instinctively.

The long steel rod rested above a wide bed of glowing coals while metal supports held it suspended over the firepit. Blackened handles protruded from either side from repeated use.

Everything about it looked practiced.
Normal.

Her stomach tightened anyway.

The smell of cooked meat suddenly seemed heavier in the air.

Riley’s fingers curled slightly around the paper candy bag hanging from her wrist while her thoughts quietly arranged themselves into something calmer.

Of course.

Animals were food.

That was the System.

The fear came first, sudden and cold in her chest, but embarrassment followed almost immediately afterward. Why wouldn’t there be a spit? This was a barbecue. Someone had obviously volunteered for it.

The realization settled over her slowly enough that panic never fully arrived. Just a heavy nervousness sitting low in her stomach while she tried to prepare herself properly.

If this was what Matilda wanted from her then she would behave well.

No crying.
No begging.
No making a scene.

Animals were supposed to accept their purpose.

“Riley?”

The voice startled her from the thought immediately.

She looked up.

Matilda stood beside the grill balancing a tray against one hip. Loose strands of dark hair framed her face while heat from the fire softened her cheeks pink beneath the lanternlight.

Concern flickered across her expression almost instantly.

“There you are,” she said softly.

Riley crossed the grass toward her automatically while Lola hurried ahead toward the food tables. The moment Riley stepped close enough, Matilda’s free hand settled lightly against the small of her back.

Warm.

Steady.

Riley relaxed without meaning to.

“You alright?” Matilda asked quietly.

Riley hesitated.

Her eyes drifted briefly toward the spit before she could stop herself.

Matilda followed the glance immediately.

Understanding crossed her face at once.

“Oh sweetheart.”

The hand against Riley’s back stroked slowly upward between her shoulders.

“I thought…” Riley swallowed softly. “I thought maybe it was for me.”

The words sounded small and childish once spoken aloud.

Matilda answered immediately.

“No.”

Firm.
Certain.

Riley looked up at her.

Matilda’s expression softened further.

“You really thought we were going to cook you tonight?”

Riley lowered her eyes.

“A little,” she admitted quietly.

There was no laughter in Matilda’s reaction. No disbelief either. Just understanding.

“Well we aren’t,” she said gently. “You’re staying with us for a long time if I have anything to say about it.”

Something deep in Riley’s chest loosened painfully at the words.

Before she could answer, another voice drifted across the yard.

“So this is Riley?”

Riley turned instinctively.

A young woman approached carrying a paper plate balanced easily in one hand. She looked older than Riley by several years, maybe nineteen at most. Completely naked like any Animal, though the watch around her wrist still glowed green beneath the lanternlight.

Volunteer.

Dark hair rested loosely across her shoulders while cold air pinkened her skin. She looked completely comfortable standing among the Humans gathered around the yard, smiling easily like she belonged there.

“This is Lisa,” Matilda said warmly. “She lives across the street.”

Lisa smiled at Riley without hesitation.

“Hi.”

Riley lowered her gaze automatically.

“Hello.”

“She’s adorable,” Lisa said quietly to Matilda, though Riley still heard it.

Heat rose immediately into Riley’s cheeks.

“She’s shy,” Lola announced from somewhere near the snack table.

“I noticed,” Lisa replied lightly.

Matilda’s hand remained resting against Riley’s back while they spoke, her thumb moving absently in small circles against Riley’s skin.

The touch grounded her more than she wanted to admit.

Lisa noticed Riley glance back toward the firepit again.

For a moment her expression softened slightly.

“You thought it was for you?”

Riley hesitated before nodding once.

Heat crept into her cheeks immediately afterward.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Lisa said gently. “I probably would've thought the same thing.”

That surprised Riley enough to look up at her properly for the first time.

Lisa gave a small shrug, shifting the paper plate lightly between her hands.

“It looks intimidating.”

Her eyes flicked briefly toward the spit turning slowly above the coals.

The smile she wore afterward was softer now.
Less casual.

“But I volunteered,” she added quietly. “Nobody asked me to.”

Riley’s eyes drifted toward the green watch around Lisa’s wrist.

“You chose it?”

Lisa nodded once.

“A few months ago.”

There was no fear in her voice.
No sadness.

If anything she sounded proud.

Riley found herself studying her more carefully now.

Lisa looked calm.
Happy even.

Not someone waiting to die.

Matilda must have noticed the confusion moving across Riley’s face because her fingers slipped gently beneath Riley’s chin, guiding her attention back toward her.

“Lisa chose this herself,” she explained softly. “The neighborhood does this every year when someone volunteers.”

Riley nodded slowly.

“I understand.”

And she thought maybe she did.

The world suddenly felt stranger than it had a few minutes earlier.

Because Lisa was smiling.

Children laughed nearby while smoke drifted warmly through the yard and neighbors talked around the fire like this was any ordinary party.

Nobody looked upset.
Nobody pitied her.

They admired her.

“You’re still tense,” Matilda murmured softly.

Riley hadn’t realized it until then.

The muscles across her shoulders loosened slightly beneath Matilda’s hands as the older woman rubbed warmth back into them again.

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey.” Matilda’s voice softened immediately. “You don’t need to apologize for being nervous.”

Her thumb brushed lightly across Riley’s shoulder.

“You’re okay.”

The words settled warmly into Riley’s chest despite herself.

Lisa smiled faintly watching the interaction.

“She’s attached already,” she observed lightly.

Riley flushed harder.

Matilda only smiled softly before guiding Riley gently toward the tables with one hand still resting against her back.

“Come on,” she said. “Before Lola eats all the candy.”

“I heard that!” Lola called immediately from across the yard.

That finally pulled the smallest smile from Riley.

Matilda noticed at once.

“There’s my girl,” she murmured warmly while the fire crackled steadily behind them beneath the cold Halloween sky.

Riley stayed close to Lola after that.

Not because anyone told her to.

It just felt easier that way.

The younger girl had already dumped half her candy onto one of the patio chairs and was now sorting it into uneven piles with complete seriousness while sitting cross-legged beneath the lanternlight.

“Those are mine,” Lola said immediately as Riley sat beside her. “You can have the peanut butter cups though.”

Riley looked down at the pile.

“There’s a lot.”

“I know.” Lola sounded very pleased with herself. “Mrs. Green gave out full-sized bars this year.”

Riley picked up one of the peanut butter cups carefully, peeling the wrapper back while Lola continued organizing candy with the focus of someone handling important financial documents.

The chocolate tasted overly sweet after the cold air outside.

Nice.

Simple.

For a little while Riley let herself focus entirely on that instead of the firepit.

Conversation drifted warmly around the yard while smoke curled upward into the night sky. Music played quietly somewhere near the back door. Neighbors moved between tables carrying drinks and paper plates while children traded candy near the patio.

And through all of it Riley remained aware of Matilda.

Not constantly staring.

Just… aware.

The older woman moved easily through the gathering speaking with neighbors while carrying trays back and forth between the grill and tables. Every few minutes her attention drifted back toward Riley automatically.

Checking.

Sometimes it was only a glance.

Other times Matilda passed close enough for her fingers to brush briefly across Riley’s shoulder or the back of her neck before moving on again. Casual little touches that barely interrupted conversation.

Each one settled something restless inside Riley’s chest.

At one point Matilda stopped beside the patio chair long enough to press a fresh drink into Riley’s hands.

“You’ve actually gotta hydrate tonight,” she said lightly.

Riley accepted it immediately with both hands.

“Thank you.”

Matilda’s fingers lingered briefly against her shoulder afterward.

“You doing alright now?”

Riley nodded once.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Something soft flickered briefly across Matilda’s face at that before her hand slid gently through Riley’s hair once.

“Good girl.”

Warmth spread instantly through Riley’s chest.

Then Matilda was moving again, returning to the grill while neighbors pulled her into another conversation.

Beside her Lola snorted quietly.

“She likes you.”

Riley lowered her eyes toward the drink in her hands.

“I know.”

The answer came so soft Lola almost missed it.

Across the yard Lisa had gradually become the center of attention without seeming to mean to. Neighbors drifted toward her naturally offering drinks, touching her shoulders warmly as they spoke, thanking her quietly in ways Riley couldn’t fully hear from the patio.

Lisa accepted all of it easily.

Not awkward.
Not frightened.

A woman Riley didn’t recognize kissed Lisa’s cheek before handing her a fresh beer. Another neighbor squeezed her hand while speaking softly enough to make Lisa laugh under her breath.

Nobody treated her like someone already dead.

That part felt strangest of all.

They treated her like someone important.

Like tonight belonged to her.

Riley watched silently while slowly eating another piece of candy.

The fire crackled steadily nearby.

Lisa smiled at something an older man said before taking another drink while warm lanternlight flickered softly across her bare skin and green watch.

Volunteer.

Riley still couldn’t fully understand it.

Yet Lisa looked calmer than anyone else in the yard.

Eventually Matilda stepped away from the grill again carrying a fresh plate in one hand. Her eyes swept briefly across the party before settling naturally on Riley and Lola near the patio.

“There are my girls.”

Lola immediately reached for one of the snacks from the plate.

“Hey,” Matilda protested mildly. “I was still walking.”

“You were walking slowly.”

Riley sat a little straighter automatically as Matilda stopped beside her chair. One warm hand settled absentmindedly against the back of Riley’s neck while Matilda looked out across the yard.

The conversations had started thinning now.
Quieting.

People were gathering closer to the firepit without being asked.

Lisa stood near the center of the yard speaking softly with two older women while someone lowered the music near the house.

Matilda’s thumb moved once gently against Riley’s neck before she finally lifted her voice slightly.

“Alright everyone,” she called warmly across the backyard. “Can I have a little quiet for a minute?”

The crowd gradually settled into silence.

Conversations faded one by one until only the fire remained, crackling softly beneath the cold autumn air. Neighbors turned their attention toward Matilda near the center of the yard while lanternlight flickered warmly across the gathered faces.

Lisa moved to stand beside her.

Her cheeks were flushed pink now, her movements just slightly loose beneath the alcohol, though the smile she wore remained calm and easy. Someone passed her another drink as she crossed the grass and she accepted it with a quiet laugh before stopping beside the firepit.

Matilda rested one hand lightly against Lisa’s shoulder.

“Thank you all for coming tonight,” she said warmly, her voice carrying easily across the backyard. “It’s been a wonderful evening.”

Soft agreement drifted through the crowd.

“And an even better introduction to our neighborhood for little Riley.”

Dozens of eyes shifted toward her at once.

Riley froze instinctively near the patio.

Heat rushed immediately into her cheeks as attention settled over her body. The tiger paint across her skin had begun flaking badly now after hours outside, leaving uneven patches of bare skin showing beneath the fading orange and black.

She lifted one small awkward hand in a hesitant wave.

A few neighbors smiled warmly back at her.

Someone near the firepit even gave a little clap.

Riley lowered her hand quickly afterward, suddenly very aware again of:
her collar,
her bare skin,
the way Matilda’s neighbors looked at her now with gentle curiosity rather than discomfort.

Matilda’s expression softened briefly when she looked toward Riley.

Then the mood shifted again.

Subtly.
Naturally.

Matilda drew a slow breath before continuing.

“Now,” she said more carefully, her playful tone fading into something calmer, more respectful, “Lisa already chose her preferred method earlier this year.”

The yard remained completely silent now.

Even the children had gone still.

Beside her Lisa took another small sip from her drink before lowering the cup loosely against her thigh. She didn’t look frightened.

If anything she looked peaceful.

Matilda’s hand remained resting lightly against her shoulder.

“She chose hanging,” Matilda continued gently. “Quick. Traditional. Family approved.”

Lisa smiled faintly at that last part.

A few people in the crowd nodded quietly.

Riley felt her stomach tighten again.

Not panic.

Something heavier.

Because nobody here was pretending this wasn’t real anymore.

The spit still turned slowly over the fire behind them.
Smoke drifted upward into the night.
Neighbors stood quietly with drinks warming their hands while a nineteen-year-old girl calmly waited to die in front of them.

And somehow the atmosphere still felt… kind.

That part unsettled Riley more than anything else.

All at once the backyard began quietly shifting into something else.

The soft conversations faded into smaller voices while neighbors moved with calm familiarity around the garden. Nobody rushed. Nobody looked distressed. Plates were gathered from tables. Drinks were refreshed. Children were guided gently toward the patio near the house while adults drifted naturally toward the back of the yard beneath the old oak tree.

Riley watched in silence.

A rope appeared seemingly from nowhere, carried by one of the older men from the garage near the alleyway. He tossed it easily over one of the thick branches overhead while another neighbor steadied the ladder beneath him.

The branch barely moved beneath the weight.

Strong enough.

Riley’s stomach tightened quietly.

The cold realization settled deeper now that this was truly happening.

Not someday.
Not theoretically.

Tonight.

Beside the firepit Lisa remained calm through all of it.

Someone refilled her drink again. Another neighbor hugged her tightly enough to make her laugh. She accepted every touch and every kind word with flushed cheeks and soft smiles while lanternlight flickered warmly across her bare skin.

Matilda stayed close to her the entire time.

Riley noticed that most.

The constant little touches.

A hand resting against Lisa’s shoulder while they spoke quietly together. Fingers brushing her arm. The small reassuring pressure at the center of her back while neighbors approached to say goodbye.

Then Matilda leaned closer, saying something softly enough that Riley couldn’t hear it from the patio.

Lisa laughed immediately.

A real laugh.
Warm and slightly breathless from the alcohol.

Riley watched Matilda’s hand slide lower absentmindedly, settling gently against the younger woman’s hip before briefly cupping her bottom through nothing but bare skin.

The gesture looked so casual.
So familiar.

Lisa leaned into it easily.

Then Matilda kissed her.

Softly.
Directly on the lips.

The sight sent sudden heat rushing into Riley’s face.

She looked away immediately, eyes dropping toward the half-empty candy bucket beside her feet while embarrassment twisted warmly through her chest.

Not disgust.

Something stranger than that.

Because nobody around them reacted oddly at all.

The kiss wasn’t treated like scandal.
Or lust.
Or spectacle.

Just affection.

Just goodbye.

And somehow that made the moment feel far more intimate than if it had been hidden.

Matilda pulled back only slightly afterward, her hand still resting warmly against Lisa’s hip while the younger woman smiled against her mouth.

“Careful,” Lisa murmured softly, laughing under her breath. “You’re supposed to be hosting.”

“I am hosting,” Matilda replied easily.

Her fingers drifted lower for only a moment, hidden briefly by the angle of Lisa’s body and the gathering crowd around them. Lisa inhaled sharply afterward, shoulders tensing before soft laughter escaped her again.

Matilda leaned close enough for only those nearest to hear.

“We’ll turn it on when you drop,” she murmured playfully. “You can’t hang without an orgasm or two, right?”

Lisa flushed hard enough for the color to spread visibly across her chest before she laughed again, ducking her head against Matilda’s shoulder in embarrassed amusement.

A few nearby neighbors smiled knowingly at the exchange.

Riley felt heat rush immediately into her own face.

She looked away at once, staring down toward the grass near her bare feet while her pulse fluttered unevenly in her chest.

The embarrassment arrived first.

Then confusion.

Then something softer and stranger beneath both.

Because the moment hadn’t felt cruel.

Not even degrading.

Matilda had touched Lisa the same way she touched everyone she cared about tonight:
warmly,
casually,
affectionately.

Like pleasure itself had become part of the goodbye.

Riley swallowed quietly while voices continued softly around the yard and preparations beneath the oak tree carried on beneath the glow of lanternlight and fire.

“What did you just do?” Riley asked quietly once Lisa had been pulled away by another group of neighbors for more hugs and drinks.

Matilda glanced down toward her.

“Hm?”

“With Lisa.”

Understanding crossed Matilda’s face almost immediately.

“Oh.” She smiled faintly. “I was just helping her relax.”

Riley hesitated.

“How?”

Instead of answering immediately, Matilda reached into the pocket of her coat and held up a small wireless remote between two fingers.

It was sleek and silver, elegant enough that Riley almost didn’t understand what she was looking at at first. Then her eyes settled on the single button in the center.

Vibrate.

The word was written beneath it in delicate cursive.

Heat rushed instantly into Riley’s face.

“Oh.”

Matilda’s smile softened slightly at her reaction.

“She was nervous earlier,” she said simply. “This helps.”

Riley stared at the remote for another second before quickly looking away again.

Around them the backyard remained warm with conversation and drifting smoke while neighbors continued preparing quietly beneath the oak tree.

And somehow that unsettled Riley almost more than the rope itself.

Because nobody here separated comfort from death.

They folded them together gently,
carefully,
lovingly,
until Riley could no longer tell where one ended and the other began.

The backyard had gone completely still by the time Lisa was guided beneath the oak tree.

Even the music near the patio had been turned off now, leaving only the soft crackle of the firepit and the rustling of cold leaves overhead. Lanternlight flickered across gathered faces while neighbors stood shoulder to shoulder around the garden in respectful silence.

Lisa climbed onto the stool without hesitation.

Someone helped steady her arm while another neighbor adjusted the rope hanging from the branch overhead. The noose rested against her throat a moment later, pale fibers stark against flushed skin.

Riley couldn’t stop staring at it.

The knot.
The rope creaking softly against the branch.
Lisa’s breathing.

Everything suddenly felt horribly real.

Lisa looked out across the gathered neighbors and smiled nervously.

“Well,” she said softly, voice trembling slightly through a laugh, “thank you for feeding everyone.”

A few people smiled back at her through wet eyes.

Someone near the patio started clapping quietly first.

Others joined a moment later.

Not loud.
Not mocking.

Warm.

Supportive.

Like encouragement.

Matilda stood close beside the stool with one hand resting gently against Lisa’s arm while another neighbor passed her the small remote from earlier.

Lisa laughed again under her breath, cheeks flushed hard now.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Okay.”

Then the stool was kicked away.

The switch clicked almost simultaneously.

Riley flinched violently at the sound of the rope snapping taut above the crowd.

Lisa’s body jerked hard beneath the branch, a sharp choking gasp escaping her before the applause suddenly swelled louder around the yard.

The sound drowned everything else.

Hands clapping.
Voices cheering encouragement.
People calling Lisa’s name warmly.

But Riley still saw it.

The involuntary movement.
Lisa’s bare feet kicking helplessly against empty air.
Her toes curling tightly.
The violent instinctive twitching of a body that had not accepted death nearly as calmly as the mind had tried to.

The rope creaked overhead with every movement.

And somehow the cheering made it worse.

Because nobody around Riley looked horrified.

They looked proud.

Grateful.

Loving.

A woman near the front wiped tears from her eyes while still applauding. Someone else raised a drink toward Lisa’s struggling body like a toast.

Riley’s stomach twisted painfully.

The smell of smoke suddenly felt suffocating in her lungs.

Because Lisa had walked willingly into this.
Smiling.
Laughing.
Accepting kisses and drinks moments earlier.

And Riley —
safe beside Matilda,
warm beneath lanternlight,
collared and protected —

had done nothing to deserve surviving instead.