Story Time

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"There was this ancient and abandoned house. Well, most people thought it was abandoned because it appeared to shelter nothing but hollow air. What people didn't know was that it sheltered more than just dust and staleness, it also sheltered a man. Not just any man, but a cannibal. He only left his house in the night. He reckoned that was the easiest way to have a pleasant meal without being disturbed. One particular evening, he had gotten all dressed up and ready to head out into the night in search of his supper. As he reached his hand towards the door knob, he overheard voices outside. Looking through the little window at the top of the door, two familiar young lads could be seen talking. No one had come this close to his home before. 'I challenge you to stay in that haunted house,' one of the boys had said, pointing towards the house as if it wasn't already obvious as to which house he meant. 'For one entire night,' he ended with a satisfied smirk. The other boy raised his eyebrow and crossed his arms, shrugging his shoulders. 'Challenge accepted,' he'd said simply. 'But,' he continued, 'you have to stay there as well.' A smirk played on his lips as the other boy paled. The cannibal snickered; maybe tonight he didn't have to go out for dinner. Dinner seemed to be coming to him. The last thing he heard was 'challenge equally accepted' before he backed into the shadows, waiting for the appetizing little morsels to arrive."

"The cannibal waited for the boys to arrive. He checked his watch, one of the few valuable belongings he had left, and noticed it was around 6:30 just as his delicacies arrived. He figured he had roughly an hour or so before he had to start cooking dinner. Tonight, he didn't know why, but he craved the thought of having guests over. He recognized the young boys, and he knew just who to invite over. He grinned evilly to himself, his plan forming perfectly in his mind. He had arranged a few attractions, you could say, to keep the young lads busy and away from him while he worked in the kitchen and started getting everything ready for the night's banquet. He busied himself for almost an hour before checking the time again. Now nearly done, the last needed items were the main entrée and the guests. Leaving the kitchen quietly, he grabbed the butcher knife he had been sharpening. His grin grew wider as the glint of the blade mirrored the murderous look in his eyes."

"He watched the meat boiling on the stove. It had to be boiled of course. He didn't know what those two boys had consumed. Kids these days tried everything and anything. Not wanting to eat meat that had been ruined by drugs or alcohol, he had decided to boil it to be on the safe side. It had been a while since he had a good home cooked meal. Sighing, the cannibal turned another page of his modified cookbook. He was having a difficult time deciding on what to make for dinner; burgers, meat pie, meat loaf? He wasn't sure. He suddenly stopped twisting his knife into the cutting board, an indent left where the edge had been pointing. He knew just what he wanted to make. Hoping his neighbors were brave enough to have a meal at a 'new neighbor's' house, he grabbed the previously typed and printed invites and headed out the door in search of his chosen guests."

"Returning home, the cannibal did his best to get the meat to look somewhat desirable so his guests would be eager to eat it all. He had decided on steak; everyone loved steak right? Well, unless they were vegetarians or vegans. After hesitating, he decided to make some vegetables and other side dishes with the feast. He had just finished garnishing the steaks and putting them in the oven when his doorbell rang. He smiled nastily, here comes his first visitor. Throughout the evening, his visitors arrived one by one. He greeted each of them with a smile and a handshake before escorting them to the dining room. Due to the food not being ready yet, he had decided to entertain his guests with a story. He wasn't exactly sure what to tell them at first but then it suddenly clicked. Once again, he knew exactly what story to tell them."

"Now dear friends, I hope you enjoyed my story. I know I did," I said as I lifted up my wine glass to make a toast. "To new neighbors," I cheered, taking a sip from my red wine. My visitors seemed a bit weary now, after having told them that story. Internally smirking, I left to get the meal I had prepared. When I came back, I was glad to see no one had disappeared from the room, or house for that matter. I walked around the table, being careful and precise with which meal I placed where and who it was given to. Circling back around to my seat, I sat down with my own dish. I could tell they were still very cautious as I let out a sigh. "After all, that was only a story, right?" I asked them, trying to calm their nerves to some extent. I watched as they slowly nodded in agreement. My grin widened as I placed my wine glass back onto the table. "Well then, let's dig in," I urged them. I could taste their nervousness floating in the air as I licked my lips. Their fake smiles didn't fool me. I've done this for many years. I can detect the true feelings of others, even if they do not wish me to do so. I thought I would be a kind host and let them have the first taste. Clasping my hands together and leaning on the table, I watched as they ate their own children. Welcome to the neighborhood. 

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