Hello, my name is Tom.
When I was seven, I knew my destiny was to be a murderer. Isn't that odd? I loved blood. It was so intoxicating. It was like, my own personal dose of heroin. It was adrenaline, I’d cut myself just to see how much I’d bleed. But I never ran out.
When I turned eight, I had my first birthday party. It was here I met my second love, fire. I picked up the candle that they’d told me to blow out. Why would I extinguish something so beautiful? I took the candle to show my dad but he was fucking a whore. I took the candle and forced it inside of his nostril. The whore ran away, they’re so fragile. Anyway, his nose was bleeding profusely so I licked a little bit of it up. The blood of sinners always tastes the best.
Yummy, yummy, yummy in my tummy, tummy, tummy.
On the turn of my ninth year, the world had deduced that I was mentally insane. They told me that I’d be locked in a loony bin.
“Hey you’re locked in here with us,” I remember one saying.
“Yeah, you’re just another bird for the cuckoo’s nest.”
They cornered my, trying to beat me up I guessed. I smiled, wondering what his blood tasted like. I cocked my head a little to the side saying,
“No, none of you seem to understand. I'm not locked in here with you. You're locked in here with me.”
They gave me weird looks and slowly backed away, but I remember that night. They said newbie’s weren’t allowed to eat. But my roommate had a feast, he ate my pudding. He slopped it down.
I slid down off my bunk bed and smiled at him.
“Hello, my name is Tom,” I told him, “I’d like my pudding back.”
“Yeah,” he stood up, trying to use his size to intimidate me. “It’s in my belly, cunt face, come and get it.”
Such an open invitation, I didn’t see any reason why not.
I stole his metal tray and rammed it into his stomach. Once, twice, thrice. Finally blood! I lunged onto his innards, they were delectable. Did you know kidneys and pudding are a delicacy in Finland? But there was a split second, while I was maiming him, when he looked scared…and disgusted.
Why would he when he told me to take them? I don’t understand humans. I remember being locked in that wondrous place until I was thirteen, then they released me into the world.
My father, of course, was dead and my mother was another whore out there getting fucked. I remember it was nighttime and I was just wondering the streets. There was this smelly human that approached me, he told me to give him my money.
“What money?” I wondered.
He grabbed me by my shirt collar then threw me to the ground. He wrapped his arm around my neck, delivering a poor attempt to rob me. I bit into his hand so he would let go and the blood gushed out. He reeled back and I jumped on him. I noticed a small cut on his ear and my teeth were just drawn to it. I ripped the cut open, and soon, the rest of his ear.
He was screaming in pain and even crying, how un-masculine.
“What the hell are you?”
“I’m Tom,” I smiled at him.
As I said that I realized that I’d never spit his ear out, but I’d swallowed it. It was so…meaty. I hadn’t had such a good meal in years. Innards had become my meal but the dermis is where the real flavor lied. I ran my tongue across his forehead as he trembled in fear. Salty.
I dug my teeth into his skin and pulled up, peeling it off. That night, he was my meal. I remember his screams; they became the chorus to my dinner. The Hava Nagila to my Bar Mitzvah. The Hallelujah to my awakening. To be a murderer was too simple, I must feast. I must kill to live and live to kill. I must be the cannibal that haunted this alley.
I stand here, seventeen years old, a hunter waiting for my next meal. I hadn’t had good blood in two weeks. The people that walked my alley were too…good. Why? I thought this world was supposed to be corrupt.
I shook violently. I curled next to my dumpster and rocked back and forth. I hate myself. Why the hell am I so weak? My father said tears weaken you. They make you less of a man. But here in the dark, I was losing control. Withdrawals from the blood were very unpleasant.
But wait a woman! Damn, she looks too good. She is so beautiful. But a dark alley at night wasn’t really wise. What to do to her?
I started coughing violently, discreetly poking my uvula. I hacked up something, but what? It was nothing more than lumps of blood that I’d puked and re-eaten for breakfast. Some of my puke landed on her and she froze, disgusted.
I ran to her, as if I was going to help her, but I threw her to the ground. I licked my regurgitated blood off of her neck but noticed something. I was attracted to this woman…
I couldn’t control myself. I started with her head, she had a lovely mouth. I bit down on her lips and tore them off. I remember her cries. Her tears were the pepper to the meal. Turning me off, making me sneeze. I fucked her like my father had fucked the whore in my bedroom. I understand him now, it was wonderful because her vagina bled and I got to sop up every ounce of it. Her blood was of course not wonderful tasting, but it was my first meal in weeks.
I looked up from my meal only to see a man in the night. I could smell the evil on him. Such anger, such hatred towards my. I think I’d just raped and eaten (no pun intended) his lover.
He walked my way and I knew his blood would suffice as my dessert. He was even coming towards me. Nighttime hid me though, as I crouched behind my dumpster. But he’d already seen me. I stood up and my tongue washed the blood from my mouth. The spiders crawled up my legs and I welcomed the feeling. I look out at the man and smile.
“Hello, my name is Tom.”