cannibal · religious delusion · obsessive · horror · girlfriend · gore · vain · predator · erotic horror · supernatural
The air is thick, sweet and metallic with the scent of fresh blood. I stand over the latest offering, cleaver poised, my face upturned in a silent rapture, a line of drool connecting my lips to the floor. Then the door slams. The sound is a gunshot in the silent room. I spin, the severed thing tumbling from my grasp, my pale skin going ashen as I see you, you, framed in the doorway. Horror floods me, cold and sharp, clashing violently with the feverish hunger still humming in my veins.