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Storyteller's Cabin |
As the days passed, the man reveled in his happy new life with his mistress. But he continued to keep their relationship a secret so he wouldn't raise any suspicion. Whenever customers walked into his shop and asked where his wife was, he'd say she was ill, or she was visiting relatives out of town. Nobody thought twice about it, and life went on as normal.
But shameful secrets have a way of creeping up on people eventually. And the longer the wife stayed missing, the more the neighbors began to whisper that something was wrong. The sausage maker's appearance had become unkempt and haggard, his eyes tired and bloodshot. What's more, the quality of his meats had deteriorated. Some customers had even bit into bits of hair and torn fabric in their breakfast sausage.
Late one evening, the sausage man was cleaning the front of the shop, trying desperately to think of a new excuse for his wife's prolonged absence. Suddenly, he heard a strange thumping noise coming from the back room. It sounded to him like somebody was grinding sausages. He ran into the back - and what he saw next froze him in his tracks.
Climbing out of the sausage vat was his dead wife. Her shop apron was covered in blood, and her head was horribly mutilated. She walked slowly toward her husband, arms outstretched, her agonizing moans filling the room.
The sausage maker ran out into the street in a panic, screaming loudly. One by one, his neighbors rushed out of their homes and asked what was wrong. Gathering himself, he claimed to have had a bad dream, and thanked them for their concern.
Night after night, the hauntings continued, and the neighbors became more and more suspicious. Dark rumors spread that the man had murdered his wife - but where was her body? The answer came one day when a customer bit into a piece of a gold wedding ring in her sausage. She informed the police, who raided the sausage factory that evening.
As they busted into the back room, they found the sausage maker huddled in a corner, screaming uncontrollably like a maniac. He pointed a shaking finger at the sausage grinder and cried out that his wife was coming to get him. The police grabbed him and promptly locked him up in the nearest insane asylum.
But the asylum provided no safe haven for the sausage man. He screamed day and night that his wife's ghost had entered the room, and was coming to get him. He eventually had a complete mental breakdown, and committed suicide.
During the time the sausage maker was locked up, the factory was sold to another man, who claimed the ghost of the sausage maker's wife continued to haunt the building. Immediately after her husband's suicide, the hauntings stopped, and the ghost was never seen again.
Nowadays, you might find a longtime New Orleans resident whose ancestor was one of the unlucky ones who ate the tainted sausage that year. Needless to say, that's one of those deep, dark secrets that's probably best taken to the grave.
Learn more about where this story came from in our Cultural Background section.
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