***
Lizzie found herself feeling really hungry.
Really hungry.
But there was nothing to eat, she felt confused, she just woke up seated on the dining table and was definitely hungry, a red cloth in front of her, no plates, no nothing . . .
Until she spotted Lauren in the kitchen, searching through the fridge, she grabbed her knife by her napkin until seeing the year engraved in it's handle.
1965
Well, easy, she found the year, but she'll only to be able to think straight if she finally gets food.
Walking to the kitchen, knife clutched hardly in her had, a demon posed her, controlled her, forcing her to plunge the knife in Lauren's stomach.
The spirit blocking out the other female's cries of pain and agony, Lizzie stabbing the other female over, and over again.
"Finally food . . ." She wickedly smiled once Lauren tumbled on the floor, her lifeless eyes wide until Lizzie gouged them out and ate them, crunching on the bloody eyeball, it's slimy taste lathering on her tongue.
She swallowed, feeling finally satisfied, cutting Lauren's stomach open and eating up the pink intestine, blood coating her entire mouth, but hunger swallowing her brain.
Eating the others hands, arms, eyeballs, ears, organs and more,
until stopping.
Glancing back, she still left some of the others organs behind, cleaning up the body and tossing it out the front door, then realising people could still find it, she decided to bury it, might as well not waste the food and let the worms eat it, Lizzie thought.
Walking back inside the house, she sat on a chair, listening.
Straining her ears.
Nothing.
Silence.
Still hungry, need more food.
Lizzie thought, glancing at he time.
Five in the morning.
Flinching when hearing the baby's fires, thinking of a dreadful thought.
No, I can't eat him. She thought, sure, she was a monster, but not that much of a monster that she would eat a child, her own child that she must've birthed.
She glanced inside the crib, the baby's soft face and brown hair gently covering it's face, she picked it up, placing it in a basket before leaving it outside her front door, shutting it and feeling still hungry.
She wouldn't
Not in ten,
hundred,
or thousands of years,
would she ever eat a child.
"I can't . . ." She pleaded, but to what, her seven year old brain completely dull and confused.
Until she looked at her hand . . .
Grabbing the knife.
Cutting.
Cutting.
And cutting into her flesh, until her hand fell off and her guts pooling out of herself, grabbing her hand, chewing, biting, crunching on her own bones, blood and flesh.
Until dying.
Blood loss, wasn't it?
Her last thought;
1965, the precious year.
***
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Seven what? . . . | Mcyt Fanfic
Fanfiction"I'll start with . . ." It boomed, gazing around, letting it's gaze settle on ______ "You." *** Seven deadly sins, seven children, find their destiny, find out who has which. Find out the truth. Save yourself.
