Cannibalistic Heart

A Story by Brittany

My cannibalistic tendencies are now even starting to scare myself. My hunger cannot be satiated. It disgusts me. I get disgusted as I rip their heart out. I get disgusted as I tear them limb from limb. I get disgusted when I look back and see the shell that represents all that is left from them.

But with all that disgust, there is also the satisfaction. I have a hunger, and I feed it. The hunger doesn’t leave, it never really does. It always is craving someone else. Fear drives me too, I think. Fear that maybe another who plays the same game will come around and consume me. So I must eat and tear and destroy every person’s heart that I can to hope that I can build a strong enough wall around my own made of my victims’ remains so as to fend off another predator.

I wish it wasn’t this way. I wish I could meet a person and we could have a “Hi-how-are-you” relationship and we could smile and laugh together and maybe even confide a secret in. But I lure them in with a lie or ten. Supply and demand, they give me some of their truths. I start consuming then, right there. All of their personality points that they lie out for me I devour instantaneously. Out one mouth and into another. And then pretty soon, I have the route to go to destroy them. To tear into their flesh and devour their being whole. Souls exist and they are real; I know this because I have tasted them as they cried out a dying scream.

And that scream pierces my brain as I grin and step away from the being that might as well not even be considered a human anymore. I am very good at what I do, and I get better at it everyday. My cannibalistic tendencies are now even starting to scare myself. But what’s life without a little fear, darling? Why don’t you tell me what you’re afraid of; I’m sure I can give you something new to scream about.