The Hungering Mother, one of the deities worshiped by us ogres. Legends say that she devoured her children out of fear that the world would be too dangerous to them. By devouring them, she would keep them eternally safe in her belly. In order to stop her, the Merciful Father, her husband, took the place of the Twins, the last children she gave birth to. Asking for the assistance of their servants, he played a trick on his wife, feeding himself instead of their children to her, all that so the two boys could see the world. It is said that once she realized he had eaten her own husband, the hungering mother was overcome with grief and years later, when the Great Warrior and Great Sage came back to free their brothers and sisters from their mother's belly, she was still weeping over the death of her husband.

The tribe I belong to considers the Hungering Mother as the greatest of all deities. To my people, there is no greater example that can be followed to attain strength other than the Hungering Mother. There is no greater love than that of a mother that would go as far as to devour her own children to protect them from the world. There is no greater sacrifice a man can make other than to offer their own flesh to their wife. I hate it, I really do.

Today, once again, as I meditate in front of the Mother's Altar in order to escape the encroaching reality, my mother, the High Priestess, effectively the highest authority in the tribe, comes as always to rebuke me.

“Tire'lun, my daughter, you may be the strongest warrior of the tribe, but don't think that this will exempt you from following your duties to the letter. Your husband has come once again to complain to me that since Gorel'khan has been born, you have refused to bed him, is that true? What are you thinking? He is almost two years old now, everyone's patience has limits.”

Gorel'khan, my fourth child and the first boy. Of course I would refuse to bed my husband after that. According to custom, after the birth of the fifth child, the husband is to offer himself to become part of his wife's strength. Why should I follow through with such a stupid custom? I could not bear to lose him. The fifth child will also always be offered as a sacrifice to the mother, with the only exception that, having given birth to two boys, one of them must be sacrificed, to prevent the treachery done by the Great Warrior and Great Sage. After that, as long as no more boys are born, no other child will be sacrificed. I dspise this and would rather not sacrifice any of my children, but of course, I couldn't voice such objections against my mother.

“Mother, I just haven't been feeling great as of late at night. Once I am feeling fine, I will resume my duties. Surely, if he is feeling frustrated, then you could just have him take care of the needs of the Unwed.”

I didn't care, as long as I could stretch how long he would live, I would have him bed every single unwed woman in the tribe before devouring him. However , my mother would not accept it.

“Don't be foolish, who would have him waste his seed in such a manner when he could be working hard at making you pregnant with your last child. You are already such a fearsome warrior, the likes of which we have never seen. No other ogre woman has claimed to be the most powerful among us before having devoured her husband, how much stronger will you become once you have added your husband's power to your own? He is only second to you, as you well know.”

Of course I did! I strain myself not to show any anger in my face. Being confrontational will take me nowhere.

“I understand what you say mother, but I still cannot have him bed me while I am not feeling well, only a weak baby could be born under such circumstances.”

A flimsy excuse, but one that I hoped would work, at least temporarily. But after we had several similar conversations before, it seemed that this time my mother had thought up some countermeasures.

“Well, you say that you only feel unwell at night. Maybe you could just go at it during the days. Maybe I will have a look myself along with the other elders, see if you are really doing your best...”

I freeze at that, unsure of what the suspicious expression in my mother's face really meant. Did she actually realize my intentions? It would not do. If she did then there was no way that I could escape.

“No, mother, I couldn't... impose on you. I have already given birth to four healthy children, surely you can't think that I am unfamiliar of the... mechanics involved.”

In reply, that odious woman laughed. My spirit crumbled as I realized that she knew, she was well aware of my intentions.

“Foolish child, even though you are already a mother of four, you still have the heart of a naive young girl. Who do you think raised you? You think I don't know what goes on in that foolish head of yours? Do you really think that we sometimes make married couples fuck in public because we really think they don't know how to do it? You're not the first nor will you be the last to not want to devour her own husband, but by the Hungering Mother, I will make sure that you will not be the first to have that wish granted. You are the child of prophecy that will lead us to rule this world, I just know it. You just have to discard your naivety, for all of us, for our destiny.”

I ground my teeth in frustration, and could not hold back my emotions anymore. I raised my fist, but was unable to strike her. The Guardian Spirit of the tribe had power over all of us. As much as I wanted to break her neck, I could only rage impotently against my mother.

“Fine! Do it like that then! Make me do it like a fucking bitch in front of everyone, so that you can get the magical number that allows you to murder my husband and feed him to me. I swear, on the Great Warrior's name that I will spit it in your face.”

My mother's face grew somber. Of course, I had chosen those words deliberately to offend her as much as possible. It was the only real resistance I could put up against her, after all.

“As respect of your prowess and in the knowledge that you say this only in order to upset me, while you're overtaken by your emotions, I will not punish you. And do you really believe that being executed as a heretic would save your husband? He'd merely be married again and be devoured by someone else. I'm sure that at least you'd want to be the one to do it.”

I don't. I want to kill you and destroy this whole tribe, except for him, and be done with these odious customs. However, as the direct control over me tightened, I couldn't say it. Instead, a lie escaped my lips.

“Of course, Mother.”

For the next week, I had no choice but to do it in front of the entire tribe with my husband, like we were a pair of dogs. It would have been humiliating, if I wasn't much more worried about the possibility of becoming pregnant. I don't think any other woman has ever prayed so fervently that she wouldn't have a child.

But of course, no such luck was afforded me, not with the accursed Hungering Mother looking over my tribe. Several months later of such activities, my pregnancy was confirmed and thus, my husband's life would come to an end. At least, in the minutes leading to the sacrifice, I was allowed one last private conversation, perhaps the first and certainly the last we would have while being completely honest. Full of tears, I couldn't help questioning him.

“You fool! Why did you tell my mother that we weren't sleeping together? Aren't you afraid of dying?”

He looked directly at me with the same strong eyes that years back had made me accept the marriage. At first, secretly disgusted with the customs of my people, I intended to be one of the unwed. In part, I obtained the strength that I did in order to convince my mother to not force the issue. And yet, I ended up marrying of my own accord.

“Tire'lun, my love, of course I am afraid of dying, but to me, not being able to hold you is the same as death.”

He hugged me, as if to drive the point home, but how could I still accept it?

“How can you say that to me? You know that the same is true of me. How can I go on? The moment they pierce your heart, mine will bleed along with it. I will die. Life without you is death.”

Of course, I could say these things, but we both knew that his death was now inescapable.

“Tire'lun, Tire'lun. You are stronger than I am, in body and spirit. Surely you can go on without me. Just... If only we could have escaped together... But it cannot be done, in the first few months of our lives we are marked, our spirit is bound.”

He trembled as he spoke of the dream of escaping. So in a way he felt the same as me. It made me slightly happy, even in that sea of grief that enveloped us. In a way, it was a relief that he only gave himself to me in that way under duress, instead of freely. He knew what he really meant to me.

“I... I know... All the power I have feels so meaningless. I just don't know what will I do once you are gone.”

He smiled at me, kissed me lightly on the forehead and caressed my belly.

“If you can... please, save our child. I don't want them to go through the same thing we are going through.”

Of course! I wanted to reply, but how? As I weakly nodded, my mother, along with the elders entered room.

“It is time, you have been given the chance for a final farewell.”

I will never forget his last words to me.

“I will always be with you, Tire'lun, my love.”

Then he was dragged from me to be slaughtered like a pig.

After that, I became a puppet. The priestesses dragged me around, bathed me and dressed me. I had to disconnect myself, or else I would remember that at the same time my husband was being chopped up into pieces.

I told myself that I wouldn't cry. I wouldn't give those disgusting elders the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I would be perfectly stoic. Except that telling yourself something was entirely different from actually doing it.

As they set before me the soup that contained my husband's body, I couldn't help but cry. Resisting would only make my mother forcefully manipulate my body, so I did it. As I lowered the spoon, I cried. As I brought it to my lips, I cried. As I chewed the meat and drank the soup, I cried.

The onlookers all seemed moved.

“She's the Hungering Mother! She's just like the Hungering Mother!”

It stung to be compared to that accursed thing, but I said nothing and merely continued devouring my husband. One day, I may yet have my vengeance.