Death-by-Chocolate
(this is the only story I've ever been able to write in one day, written on my first Christmas alone)

	It was Christmas once again.
	Crystal turned off both taps on the bathtub and drank another mouthful of butter rum, letting it thoughtfully slide down her throat as she thought of Christmas’s past.  It had just turned Christmas Day a few minutes ago, and she had much to think about.  She set the fine glass and the bottle on top of the toilet beside the bathtub and then passed a hand carefully over the other two items on the toilet.
	Her Christmas presents.
	Looking at them, she bit her lip and closed her eyes in the hope of stopping herself from crying.  While she concentrated on speeding up the numbing of the sweet liquor, she unfastened the buttons on her plush bathrobe and sighed as she felt it slide off her soft mocha skin.  With a weak smile, she gentling caressed her cushy stomach and rump like Roger used to.
	Oh, how Roger had loved to hold and stroke her like this.  Massaging and kissing her under the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree.  He would call her his big teddy bear.  His Crystal bear.  The best Christmas present he ever received.
	Smiling, Crystal ran her gentle fingers between the cleavage of her ample breasts and cupped her hands around the golden locket that always laid between them.  She always hated having to take it off, but this time it would be forever.  It was to be a present for Grace.  The best Christmas present Roger ever gave her, next to himself.
	After slipping the thin gold chain from off around her neck, Crystal brought the locket to her lips and couldn't help but feel her eyes burn from the tears that soon came forth.  Like its new recipient, the locket, and especially its contents, meant very much to Crystal.  It was a tiny wedding photo of her and her late husband Roger, taken eight years ago.  Her in her white gown, him in his red tux, and a heavily decorated Christmas tree right behind them.
	Oh, how Roger had loved Christmas time, and to be married on that day only greatened the love between them.
	After carefully unclipping the locket from off its long chain and onto a slightly thicker, choker chain, Crystal set it next to the presents and smiled wearily at the bath water.  What she needed right now was to relax and get on with things.  That's what her family had told her to do.  She had too much of a future ahead of her to be stuck a mourning widow for the rest of it.  She had to accept tragedy or it would eat her up inside and age her before her time.  They said that Roger had been a bad influence on her, feeding her sweets and fast food, and idolizing an unhealthy body.  Since Roger’s death, she had dropped at least forty pounds and her family and friends had praised her for that.
	After a lot of thought, Crystal had vowed that starting today, she would let the past be and move on.  She would drop as much weight as they thought fit and be happy about it.  She had invited her family over and they would be here to open their presents around noon.  They had once told her that she could do anything she put her mind to, and so she had spent many countless days preparing for the time to come.
	What better day than Christmas to make a change for the better.
	As Crystal slipped into the hot, soothing bath water, there was a light scraping at the bathroom door, and then it was ever so slowly nudged open just enough so that Grace could fit her small, portly body through.  It was earlier than Crystal's usual start of the day, and Grace had become worried when she'd found out that her master was no longer in bed.  Now that she'd found her again, she was happy and laid down to watch her bathe.  Maybe she’d join her in there later on.
	"Morning, Grace.  Merry Christmas", Crystal sighed as she slipped in up to her armpits into the steaming water and sleepily let the back wall support her head.
	"*yip*", Crystal's Papillon replied and rested her head on her front paws.
	Four years ago, Roger had given Grace to Crystal as a sole Christmas gift.  He had just been promoted and, as a stand in for his affection to her while he was on a business trip, and a token of his undying love for his wife, he'd offered the eager pup.  "Amazing Grace" was Crystal's favorite song and it was playing on the CD, so she'd tenderly named their new companion, Grace.
	Grace was always eager to please her masters, had breezed through obedience school, and though it had been pointed out several times that Grace should be tried for dog shows, Crystal and Roger had opted to spoil her rotten.  Like her lady master, she was a bit on the pudgy side now, but didn't really care.  Actually, she preferred it.
	Crystal and Grace would still go for long walks and they figured that as long as Grace stayed active, the extra instillation around her didn’t matter.  Plus, it accented her long silky fur and made her extra comfortable during the winter months.  The little baby booties Crystal would put on her did feel weird on her feet and red painted claws, but it was much nicer than walking on the cold ice and snow.  What mattered now, like always before, was that her master still loved her just as much as she loved both of them, and the couple's love for each other had only magnified her eagerness to please her remaining master.
	Grace got up, walked over to the edge of the tub, and rolled onto her back to get her belly rubbed.  Even if she’d had short fur, it had been more dog years than she cared to remember since you would have been able to see and feel her ribs.  Why vets liked to feel her ribs she wasn’t sure, but they were always complaining to Crystal that they couldn’t.  Crystal smiled down at her, cupped her hands around Grace's body, and gently laid her onto her own soft belly face up.  Grace tilted her head back, splashing the water with her tail as Crystal stroked Grace's fluffy belly, flattening and wetting her long fur into a milky sheen.  Grace was quite thankful that her masters liked to feel her belly.
	"*yip yip*", Grace panted and then wiggled herself on her master's belly, tickling it with her fine and affectionately groomed coat.
	Grace had always loved the feel of Crystal’s skin on her fur.  She remembered when Roger would use her as a feather brush to stroke Crystal’s squishy and velvety smooth body with.
	Grace wished Roger would come back and do it again.
	"*sigh* You're welcome, Grace", Crystal cooed and then let Grace turn over and fall into the bath water.
	"*yerf*", Grace replied as she scraped at the side of the slick white bathtub, then turned around, climbed up her master's lap to the peak of her semi-squishy belly, jumped out of the tub, and began shaking herself off.
	"Would you like your present now, Grace?  It's a very special one this time”, Crystal asked, unable to mask the pain that slowly returned to her face.
	Crystal stood up in the tub, reached over to the top of the toilet, and scooped the golden locket into her hands.  As Grace watched her attentively, Crystal unfastened the choker and set the locket and chain out flat in front of Grace.  Grace looked at it curiously, and then, when Crystal opened up the locket, Grace whimpered and sniffed at the man inside.
	“Yeah, I miss him too, Grace, but I don’t want to do that anymore.  I want to move on.  Get on with things.  This is yours now, Grace.  Miss him for me.  Be my amazing grace”, Crystal said with a pained smile as she closed the locket and fastened the choker chain around Grace’s neck below her green and red striped collar.  “Will you do that for me, Grace?  Will you miss him for me?”
	Grace remembered when she first realized that one of her masters was gone too long and how, before that, he had slept for almost a dog year to punish her.  She always missed playing with Roger whenever he went on his business trips.  She missed the fun she’d had playing tug-of-war and fetch with him.  She missed the way he’d scritch her and make her jump for her treats, his pockets containing an almost endless supply of them.  She missed how he’d annoyingly keep sticking his fingers into her mouth until she finally nipped them.  Then he’d jokingly complain to Crystal that Grace had tried to eat him.  He always smelled of food and treats, but she knew better than to bite him.
	Sometimes however, Grace would nip too hard and accidentally draw blood.  Then, ever caring Roger would scream and walk away sucking on his finger.  After a short while, he’d come back to scold her and then offer her to apologetically lick it clean.  Once he thought the bleeding had stopped and she’d apologized enough, he wouldn’t play with her for a while and she’d feel really bad about what she had done.  Roger had always come back though and she’d lick his hands and face in forgiveness and everything would be all right.
	Then one day Roger left and never returned home again, and Grace still blames herself for it.
	Grace had been sleeping off a big meal and had been too lazy to go downstairs and outside into the cold, and so had instead made a mess in the far corner of their bedroom.  She knew she’d get punished for it, but she hadn’t expected it to be so strict and final.
	Despite herself, Crystal thought back to that day, and let out a long, drawn out sigh.  She’d opted not to go to the Christmas party that the company Roger worked for was throwing.  It was a week prior to Christmas and she’d thought it a good opportunity to get the rest of her shopping done and all the wrapping out of the way.  There would be more than enough time to do some celebrating of their own around Christmas Day.  Ironically, she’d decided to make Death-by-Chocolate earlier than usual that year and since Grace couldn’t eat sweets, had loaded up her dish even more than usual as she herself took to disposing of the complicatedly sweet desserts extra ingredients.
	Unknown to either one of them at the time, Roger was putting himself in danger and it wasn’t until early the next morning that Crystal received the phone call.  Being drunk himself, Roger had decided to have one of his co-workers drive him home, only he didn’t know that the co-worker was just as drunk as he was.  No one noticed them leave, and if they did, no one put up enough effort or used enough common sense to stop them.  A bit more than three quarters of the way home, the co-worker’s car was found wrapped around a tree with both passenger’s severely wounded.  They were rushed to the local hospital with Roger in a coma and his co-worker near death.
	Speed, drunkenness, hazardous road conditions, and a lot of mutual stupidity had made for a deadly combination.
	When Crystal found out what had happened, she was at a loss for thought and words.  Grace could sense something was very wrong and pawed at her leg.  Picking up Grace with tears welling up in her eyes, Crystal ran to her car and sped towards the hospital.  She didn’t know what she would do if Roger died and left her alone and lonely.
	Crystal and Grace stayed with Roger every second of the day for over a week, hoping that something could be done to get him back to his chipper self.  His co-worker had just barely cheated death and was very slowly making a road to recovery, and Crystal hated him for it.  Crystal ended up having to spend Christmas next to her sleeping husband, opening both of their presents and reminiscing about Christmas’s past.  Grace slept on Roger’s chest and nuzzled and licked Roger’s face as Crystal cried over the golden locket she’d received from him.  Every night she’d pray for his recovery and every day she’d hope for some movement or reaction out of him.
	Two long months later, Roger left them permanently.
	Crystal sued the recovered co-worker as well as the company, but even though she won, she knew it wouldn’t bring her any closer to Roger, and so she got a job as a secretary and spent her time off from work watching home movies, cleaning and beautifying her house, and progressively eating less and less.  When the next Christmas came, she bought gifts for herself, Grace, and Roger, and then left Roger’s gifts under the tree until the tree finally lost all of its needles and had to be removed.  This year, Roger has even more gifts and added to them were gifts to her family, too.
	Crystal looked at the two gifts to herself and got up again to bring them closer so she could finally open them.  The water was starting to cool off, so she turned on the hot water again and, while she was up, poured herself another glass of butter rum.  Her hands were a bit unsteady now and she wondered how many glasses she had poured in the beginning.  Nevertheless, the glass got filled, she begin to take it, and then decided to leave it on top of the toilet and took the two boxes instead.
	“It would be better to save some to toast my family with when they arrive.  A toast to the Merry Holidays”, Crystal sighed happily as she turned off the tap again and edged her way back into the water.
	“*arr yip*”, Grace responded, waking up with the sound of her master’s voice.
	Grace had been dreaming of the standard box of treats she received every Christmas, which lasted until New Year’s Day, but if she’d had her way, wouldn’t have lasted one day.  She hadn’t acquired the ability to comfortably scarf down her weight in food by waiting until the holidays, and she hadn’t stayed alive this long by keeping it there and letting it turn her into a wheezing ball of fat and fur.  Out of generosity and blind love, Crystal fed her like she was a Newfoundland, so her stomach got just as much exercise as her legs.  In the beginning, Grace would be naughty and munch on the houseplants to relieve the tension in her stomach, but after a while she learned how to puke on the outdoor plants by herself.  Once she had given her stomach its workout, she contentedly scarf up the rest of the bowl’s contents and happily go back to keeping Crystal happy.
	Regurgitation.  If her wolf ancestors could do it, then Grace figured she could learn to do it, too.  Plus, it gave the local strays something to live off of.
	A light momentarily flashed in Grace’s face and she blinked curiously at the shiny blade in Crystal’s hand.  It was one of Roger’s knickknacks.  His Boy Scout pocketknife.  It had been cleaned, and polished, and sharpened to better than new.  Crystal thoughtfully turned it around in her hand, admiring her handy work, and then when she saw that Grace was looking at it too, she reached it over so Grace could sniff it.  Roger’s name had been etched onto it’s plastic side probably with another Scout’s knife and it’s main body looked just as old as it was.  It’s largest blade was opened out and it was honed to brilliance.
	Crystal set the pocketknife on the edge of the tub and unwrapped the second box.  From inside of it, she pulled out a clear plastic pint of the tub of Death-by-Chocolate she’d made yesterday for the family.  Having forgotten to bring a fork or spoon with her, she opted to open up one of the smaller blades on Roger’s pocketknife and eat the small bowls contents with it.
	“Merry Christmas, Grace”, Crystal sighed once she’d finished the bowls contents and had scraped out as much as she could with the knife.
	No more of Roger’s favorite dessert to feed her with.  No more fatty foods for herself period.  From this point on, she was putting herself on a diet.  She would go cold turkey.
	On that thought and the praise it’d bring from her family and friends, Crystal licked the blade clean and dragged it’s sharp edge across her tongue.  With a painful sigh, she felt the bitter taste of blood taint her mouth.  No more food for her fat self.  Then, slipping up to her neck into the warm water and resting her head wearily on the wall, she reopened the big blade and ran it down each wrist to up against each of her hands.
	“Merry Christmas, Roger”, Crystal said with a painful grimace as she looked at the small beads of blood start appearing on her wrists.
	Crystal was giving her family and friends everything she owned this Christmas, but Roger was getting her most precious gift.
	Her soul.
	A thing that he’d told her time and time again was more exquisite about her than the multi-layered and textured dessert she’d make for him year after year.
	Grace moved to the edge of the bathtub and stared at her master’s wrists.  Something was wrong, but Crystal just smiled at her and ruffled the fur on her forehead.  Red stuff dripped between her eyes and onto her muzzle and Grace curiously licked it off.
	Blood!
	Had she done that?!
	Grace bent her head back to lick at the wound and Crystal withdraw her hand back into the tub and sighed at the oozing blood.  Then, she picked the knife up again out of the water and used her last bit of energy to cut deeper wounds into her wrists.  Finally, as she waited it out, her right hand slipped out over the edge of the tub and Grace yelped at the collecting pool of blood before her.
	Not knowing what to do, Grace started lapping up the blood from off Crystal’s dangling wrist.  Her master was bleeding much more than she’d ever seen, and she knew that somehow she had to stop it, but no matter how much she lapped up, even more appeared.
	“It’s okay, Grace.  It’s okay.  Go ahead and eat me up... Eat me up like you always wanted to eat up Roger... Thank you for your help, and dedication, Grace... Help me be with Roger again... You’re a good girl, Grace... You’re the best present he ever gave me... Let me be your best present... Eat me, Grace... My, amazing.  Grace”, and then the last sounds the frightened Papillon heard from her master were the breathy hummed notes of “Amazing Grace”.
	Shortly afterwards, Grace passed out herself, her belly full to bursting with her master’s blood and a directionless stream of both of her master’s kind voices swimming through her mind.  Instead of doggy treats, she dreamed of chasing her loving masters through rivers of blood, and dark rich smells of chocolate and rum.  The sweet wind ruffling and tickling the fur on her pudgy little body as she performed tricks on command and made her masters laugh.
	They were forever youthful and loving.
	Crystal had seemed so content in that tub, that Grace dreamed that Roger finally forgave them both and stepped in through the front door laughing and joking about his long vacation.  Now that her two masters were together again, she couldn’t wait to feast and play with them Christmas night and every Christmas after that.
	In the warm crimson pool around her, Grace patted her engorged belly in her sleep and happily mrrred out, “Merry Christmas, masters.”



	As much as I'd like this to be a happy ending, once the family arrived and saw what happened, their Christmas present to Grace was the accusation that she would now have a taste for blood and a trip to the nearest pound to be put to sleep.
	A merry Christmas indeed.