11. - – Misha
CHAPTER ELEVEN
-
MISHA
It's been six months. Six months since everything changed for me.
I'm no longer dying, and I'm no longer sick at all.
The tachycardia is gone, but so is the rest of my heartbeat, except for when I'm really excited.
Then it makes a small fluttering in my chest. Usually, it's when Paul's buried deep inside of me.
My hair came back too. The long, wavy, beautiful tresses that I had my entire life before the chemotherapy magically returned.
I'm back to my old self before the diagnosis, even if there is a little bit of me now that's more, shall we say, monstrous. My health is back, my beauty is back, and everything is perfect. Even my nightly feedings that sustained me just feel right.
When I had imagined, before it actually did the thought of me having to kill a human being made my stomach turn and it made me feel shameful, but that's not how it is at all.
I don't know if it's because the new monster inside of me takes over enjoys the kill, or if the woman in me really did just come to peace with what I now have to do.
Either way, it's one of my favorite things to do now.
Hunting with the love of my life, my king, is even better, and something that I absolutely have to do, at least nightly.
“You ready?” I ask Paul as we round the dark corner behind the opera house, following our prey for the night.
“Absolutely.” He says to me, giving me that million-dollar smile he has that makes his amber eyes crinkle in the corners. “Are we playing with our food tonight?”
“Yes, yes, we are.” I laugh, taking his hand in mine and quickening our pace.
I want to catch her before she comes out on the other side of the alley and back into the light of the city’s street lamps.
I want to drag her into the pitch-black night, kicking and trying to scream as I sink my teeth into her neck and drain every last drop from.
Then I want to play with her body the way Heaven, Derrick’s girl, has taught me to.
It’s fun eviscerating and dismembering the bodies after I dine on them, making a mess that I can cover myself in before I go home and fuck my man. It’s a blast when he’s right next to me, doing it with me too.
We always make quick work of our kills, just like we are right now, feasting on her, emptying her meat sack of every last morsel of her life essence. It gives us more time to play, to cut, and to shred.
As I reach into her guts and pull them out with my bare hand, I smile at the man next to me offering him some, letting the bowels side between my slick and sticky fingers as he graciously takes a bite from the mass in my palm.
“Delicious.” He says, rubbing his tummy and licking his lips after he swallows the large bite of her intestines. “Not as good as a thigh, though. I always did like the dark meat best.”
He laughs a low, hollow laugh as he cracks off her left leg at the hip, and brings the thigh up to his mouth, taking a big old bite out of it like a Thanksgiving turkey leg.
Is it brutal? Yes. Is it disgusting? Depends on who you ask. Is it unapologetically us now? As Cary would say…Abso-fucking-lutely.
The End