I slammed my foot down on his chest, hearing the crack of his ribs. Blood spurted out of his throat and I felt the saliva rush to my mouth. I tried again,
"Where's Anna? Do you know? Spit it out!" he gasped, dragging in as much air as he could to his damaged lungs. His eyes widened, grasping at the chance of life,
"Anna! I know Anna!" he was grinning wickedly, "She's dead! Dead I said!" he was laughing hysterically, and I heard the crackle of his ribs breaking through to his lungs. The blood came running out of his mouth, but he kept shouting, "Last time I saw her she was rotting in a warehouse, no chance she's survived that! Ha!" froth gathered at his mouth and I saw the muscles in his neck straining to contain his enthusiasm.
I wasn't really paying attention to the rest of his mad raving; I'd remembered the gaping hole in his stomach where I'd shoved the pole through. Though I usually waited for it to be cooked, I was very hungry right now and anything, I mean anything would do. Human flesh had always appealed to me, ever since I was five. I'd grown accustomed to my father when he was too far gone; always picking at his flesh and telling me there were bugs there. I didn't listen, but the image of torn skin and raw flesh burned into my mind and I felt myself craving for it during class, in my dreams.
It happened when we were on year eight camp. We were playing spotlight, the girls had to find the boys hiding somewhere among the bushes in the darkness. I shined my torch into the eyes of one of my classmates. He was a year older than me, though he wasn't any smarter. He looked surprised that I'd found him, he probably thought he had superior hiding skills since he was older, but the truth was he was so noisy since the start that everyone knew where he was and just hadn't bothered to spotlight him. I'd chosen to wait until the area was empty.
"Spotlight," I said, after staring at him for ages. Since I'd never stood out much in class, everyone avoided me and thought I was mentally unstable. He gave me a maybe-she's-crazy-after all look and started to stand up. I walked towards him, putting my hand on his chest to stop him and forcing him back behind the tree. He seemed puzzled,
"Um…Ella was it?" his skin was pale; I could almost see the blood pulsing under it. The fact that his long-sleeved shirt and thick jeans obscured most of his skin didn't bother me.
I couldn't hold back anymore, I shoved him down onto the
grass and threw my torch to the side, he was actually starting to
look scared and it excited me. Maybe I had a masochistic side to
me after all? He stuttered over the words,
"U-um, El-la? I-is there something...You wanted to, to say?" I chuckled, crawling towards him on my knees and putting one of his fingers into my mouth. He blushed, but that immediately turned into a grimace when I bit down hard and my teeth pierced the skin, causing blood to flow from his pinkie.
"Ouch! What do you think you're doing-" He stopped mid-sentence, shocked at the playful and hungry expression on my face. I smiled broadly, maybe scaring him a little;
"I've found you."
After that it's all history; they never found any traces of his body and after a few months the cops gave up on the investigation. No one would suspect a cute girl with short blonde hair and enchanting green eyes that claimed to have nothing to do with the boy's disappearance. I kept living a normal life after that, graduating from high school and moving on to my first year of uni. Though, eventually, I got bored of having to be so cautious. I was getting hungrier and having signs of withdrawal from lack of human meat. It was also getting hard to contain myself, whenever I saw blood - which was often, since I worked in a hospital - I just barely kept from pouncing on the patient and devouring them right there. Then, miraculously, an opportunity arose. One night I saw a group of men; they were standing over a dead body. They saw me, pointed their guns to my head, took me hostage and put me at work as a rooky hit man. I didn't complain, I got to kill freely and the pay was reasonable.
Just recently, I'd heard from my dad that I had a sister. Apparently she was born before I was, with a woman my dad had walked out on about a year before he met mum. It was a bit strange, even for a cannibal, but I'd always wondered what my own guts tasted like; I often wasted my spare time fantasising about ripping apart my own flesh, slurping up the blood and licking the remnants from my fingers. This was the perfect chance to see what my own blood tasted like; even if she was only my half-sister.
I'd never really gotten round to tracking her down, but it just so happened that around about then fate intervened. The company gave me another order, to track down some man part of an underground organization that had been seen on their territory a few too many times. When I went to go and find the guy, I overheard him talking on the phone about some woman,
"Yeah, she's dead. I'm sure of it. Yes, I checked! For God's sake, if Anna shows up ever again it'll be a miracle, I swear! You've seen that last of that stupid bitch," he spat on the ground next to him, and that was the chance I'd taken to launch myself at him from behind. I knew the name he'd spoken as soon as the word left his lips. Though the chances were a million to one that it wasn't her, I wasn't going to make any allowances anyway so it didn't really matter.
Now I was starting to feel the acid burning in my empty stomach. I wasn't too keen on waiting to see what else he had to say, but I had to restrain myself in order to find out some information. I couldn't get much more out of him after that, he just kept on yelling that she was dead and that I'd never see her again. Seriously, he'd lost it a long time ago. I wondered why they had him in such a dodgy business. All he would tell me was the address of the warehouse and all that she'd done. By the end of the story I was grinning wildly, we were sisters for sure. As soon as he lost my interest, I unleashed my inner demon and attacked him. Although I didn't really have a taste for men, I didn't mind that much. The arms were always my favourite part - especially the fingers - so I saved that till last and began at his ribs. Fragments of his bones got stuck between my teeth occasionally and the bruised skin was a bit off, but I wasn't one to complain. I hadn't gotten a job in months and I think I'd bordered insanity by hunger for a few moments there.
I took a chunk out of his stomach and an artery burst, spurting blood all over my face. It ran down my eyes, blurring my vision red. I suddenly thought of the expression 'seeing the world through rose coloured glasses'; an ironic incident for me. If this was how it looked - everything drenched in blood - this was my cup of tea. I turned my attention back to his insides, now spilling out onto the dirt. I got his slippery liver between my hands and squeezed it, slurping up the blood that dripped out of several holes my sharp nails had created. It tasted a bit dirty, though still squishy, like an apple or pear. Maybe he was a smoker, because his lungs were the same, they both had the smell and taste of tar. I just threw them into a plastic bag and kept going. I'd gotten around eating the hair on the legs; I always carried a sharp razor blade around with me. As strange as it was, peeling skin off was sort of like peeling an orange, or a potato, and I'd grown really skilled at it too. Putting the peels in the bag as well, I yanked out some of his chewy tendons and nibbled on the bone underneath. Spitting out the unnecessary fat, I wiped my mouth on the black sleeve of my shirt, trying not to look untidy. When I was a kid, and my dad wasn't an addict, he had taught me the proper etiquette while eating. I laughed, I didn't exactly have a knife and fork with me, and I imagined my father scolding me for it.
There were several parts of the body I always left, and they were the genitals, the feet, the armpits, and the mouth. They didn't particularly appeal to me and I wasn't going to start eating them now. Actually, I was getting really full, so I decided to leave the rest and let the guys dump it somewhere. Before putting the remnants in the body bag, I made sure to tear his heart free from his chest and lick it clean before placing it in an esky for later. I always had to get the heart, sort of a habit I'd picked up early on, and I liked to think it made me that much healthier than everyone else. I walked over to a nearby seat and stashed the bag under it, making sure it wasn't visible. Then I went to clean up the mess I'd made. I got out a can of fuel and poured it over the spots of blood, clothes, and occasional skin. Then I got out my lighter and set it all on fire. I stood there for a while and watched the flames burn. Then I got the bag and stepped into the waiting car, dumping the bag in the boot.
When I had time, I went and checked out the address the guy had mentioned, though I had little faith. As soon as I saw the police officers crowding the area my confidence dropped further. I decided to walk away, but my destiny wouldn't let me away that easily.
"Hey! You! What're you doing here? This is a restricted area kid, don't you know that?"
I turned to him and flashed a dazzling smile, trying to look as innocent as I could. The officer hesitated, and I took that chance to escape,
"I'm sorry, officer. I didn't know at all," but I paused,
what if this really did have something to do with Anna? I'd
never forgive myself if I just left and
found out it really was her. "Actually, I heard there was a dead
girl found here…" I trailed off, not wanting him to confirm it.
He crease his forehead, looking confused,
"Dead girl? I don't know about any dead girl. There was a girl found here a few days ago and closed this site for investigation, hanging on to life by a thread."
He looked like he regretted his words; maybe I wasn't supposed to know. I pressed him for more clues,
"Do you know where she was taken?" I tried to trap him in my gaze, but he still hesitated, not particularly eager to say any more. I tried again.
"Please, sir? If you'd just tell me the name of the hospital…" He gave in; if he'd told me this much already he might as well say just that little bit more.
"Well, I'm not sure but I think she was taken to a Saint
Joseph's hospital…" I beamed at him and saw my pretty face
reflected in his sunglasses.
"Thanks so much sir!" I replied eagerly; I hated using such a fake, innocent voice. But it worked. He was bashful, scratching his head and trying to be modest,
"Naw, I was just helping out an innocent, young…" I'd already turned and left, trying to hide my amusement at how easy he could be persuaded. I laughed to myself, attracting stares from the people around me. Men were so easy to manipulate.
I didn't get to actually check out the hospitals for a while. I was so busy with the jobs the company gave me; I'd been wandering around in Italy for a while on a wild goose chase. Finally, I got a break and remembered that I was still searching for my long lost sister. It took me a while to recall the hospital she was staying in, and another hour to convince the nurse I was a cousin of Anna and had a right to see her. Reluctantly, she told me her room number and informed me that she was not to be disturbed. She'd been unconscious for a while and she wasn't sure, but the nurse reckoned she could still hear people on a subconscious level. I rolled my eyes and started to walk away, hearing the nurse mutter insults at me as soon as she thought I was out of her hearing range. When I got to her room, I saw a couple of men standing outside, supposedly on guard. I gave them the pass to Anna's room and they also warned me not to wake her up due to her fragile mental and physical condition. I pretended to listen to them, plastering an interested expression on my face. When they finally let me through into the room I let out a sigh of relief. There was no one in the room but us. I focused my eyes on her, noticing the various bandages on her face, wrists, left hand and both of her feet. I only knew a small amount of her injuries by overhearing the officers at the crime site. Apparently she'd tortured some boy to death and then tried to end her own life.
Thinking back to what the other man had said and how she looked now, the stories matched, but neither of them warned me of her mental condition. I'd thought of what type of person my sister would be, and I'd been relived to find out she was as sick, or even sicker, than me. I didn't feel pity; I only felt a stronger urge to get to know her. I wanted to see her face but the white bandages obscured my view. I saw her long black hair and thought that was probably from her mother's side. Sitting down beside her, I studied her pale skin, very different from my tanned skin; another trait from her mother. Her hand was cold, and I only just barely felt a slow pulse on her wrist and neck. This was my chance, I realised, as I remembered my original purpose to be here. I glanced around the room, checking for cameras. I was alone in a room with my own flesh and blood, literally. Making a quick calculation, I knew it'd probably be quite a while until the guards came to check on me, unless things went differently and she woke up. But I ensured that wouldn't happen by injecting a large dose of relaxants into her system. Now I could knew she wouldn't be waking up in the middle of things. Quickly, quietly, I locked the door to the room and closed the blinds on the windows. Looking out of one, I knew escape was easy once I'd finished my meal. I was on the second floor, but there were several bushes in the garden below to cushion my fall.
Now, back to Anna; as sad as I was to see her go, I comforted myself with the fact that society didn't need people like her in this world, all the while being fully aware of my outrageous hypocrisy. No matter, I thought, I wasn't the type for remorse or regret. Turing back to the hospital bed, I eyed her good hand. This was where I'd start, and I'd work my way up her arm and finish with her chest. Clenching her clipped fingernail between my teeth, I cleanly yanked it off her finger and sucked the blood that started to flow before it touched the crisp white bed sheets. As soon as I did that here heart rate rose and her eyelids flickered, but she didn't wake up. I bit her flesh off in sections, biting through the skin and right down to the bone before slipping the ring of tender flesh off and gulping it down. I liked leaving all the bones intact, and, looking at her fleshless skeleton of an arm, I didn't regret it. I checked the machine next to her bed, her heart rate had completely stopped but there was an annoying beeping sound coming from one the monitors. I yanked the cord out of its socket. Getting back to Anna, I once again regarded her perfect arm. I'd give the guards a bit of a scare; make them reconsider the safety of their homes.
Thinking about my preference to eating women, there were a couple of good reasons; firstly, because they were never particularly hairy anywhere, and also because they had extra soft skin. Though, the breasts were a hindrance to me, and I usually cut them off. But this time I wanted her to have a beautiful corpse, and, looking at the wounds beneath her bandages I reckoned she'd had enough damage done to make her body ugly. So I left her entire upper torso, only eating the stomach and carefully storing the unwanted organs in the hollow of her stomach so that they wouldn't hang out all scary like. The picture so far was wicked I reckon; beautiful, artistic deaths were also developing into a habit of mine. She had just a skeleton for an arm, the break between her skin and bone cleanly cut, and the hole in her stomach perfectly symmetrical with the back flesh still intact.
Suddenly, the door burst open and the guards rushed in with two other men. There must have been a hidden camera I'd missed. Cursing, I backed quickly towards the window, but not fast enough, it seemed. Two of the guys tackled me and pinned me to the floor with my face pressed hard on the cold vinyl. Another one pointed a taser at me and pulled the trigger. Jolts of electricity coursed through my body, my nerves running signals of pain up and down my body. I jerked uncontrollably, like I was having a fit. Froth gathered at my mouth and my eyes rolled back into my head. He let go of the trigger and I lay there, stunned. The spot where he'd pressed the gun to me was scorched, the skin red and tender. I smelled my flesh, and saliva rushed into my mouth as an automatic reaction to smelling food. I'd lost track of what the other men were doing but I was still weighed down by one. Everything was fading and the men's voices could have been in the next room. The ceiling spun and everything started to go black. I was drained of strength, but before I fully lost consciousness one thought ran through my mind.
I'm sorry, Anna.