Ghost Assignment Inc. GAI

Chapter 6: Hannibal

What can I say, I was made this way. ever since birth my parents never fully been loving nor nurturing but on the opposite end towards deadly and uncaring. They wanted to mold us into monsters early on before we could remember anything, they wanted to make it a reflex and instinct. Early on the need for flesh and Carnage, it was embroiled in our skin, molded like hot metal over a wooden stick. Do I blame my parents; yes and no, but I wouldn't be who I am if it wasn't for them. They showed me what it's like to carve an animal while they're still alive. They showed me how to hunt in the shadows, showed me how to stalk for days before pouncing, showed me that having someone you care about only makes you weak and vulnerable. Just because I am thanking them for turning me into this, this monster of a man, this alpha predator, does not mean I enjoyed the transformation. They were very much beating us everyday into submission, my sister and I. Making it known they are the alphas that lead us and the teachers that we need, there was not much love as stated but moreover the spectrum of ownership and obligation towards us. since they had brought us in the world they might as well teach us how to be like them, maybe even better than them.

Starting off small with animals, now that was invigorating. It was my first real experience with skinning and wearing the hide, of pray. Feeling the cuts between muscle, the rupture of veins and the pools of weakened blood and nashed bone gave me a sort of sweet and free feeling. It was like I was being reborn, and even in those instances, I was still suffering.

We gradually moved to bigger prey, more illusive and difficult. Stalking deer, bears, and even crocodiles. Attacking them and skinning them for their skin as more of a sport than a need. Of course that didn't stop there, why would it haha, it was just a beginning to a more blood thirsty, skin crawling plan. It was time to hunt the biggest of game, homosapiens, or so they are normally called, humans. I don't identify as human, I know I am more than a flesh bag, only strong when surrounded by help. I don't require such aid, I am the ultimate being for the hunt. While indulging in our enthusiastic hobbies, I would wonder why we were treated with malice, but I've come to realize, it was the perfect plan. That's what I thought at first anyway...until my sister was the next victim of my family's "passion". What happened that night, it cannot be forgotten nor forgiven. There's a numb feeling when I talk about what happened between my sister and I, yet I feel compelled to tell inorder for it to be said the right way. The way it should be told, respectfully and true to the letter.

We were 12 and 11 at the time, my sister being the oldest, we were in our insolated cellar. I can still feel the cold winds from the plastic covered metal floor and the plastic covered concrete walls, not allowing any kind of warmth to make a home there. We were learning how to properly drain blood from our victims, how to drain them of every last drop, until they were as dry as a raisin. We were so happy to show our parents that we were learning everything they taught us so quickly. They for the first time kissed us both on our foreheads and held us close to them, this foreign feeling of warmth and untapped emotion. They stepped back and looked both of us in the eyes and whispered,"we are truly grateful for the both of you, but there can only be one left, Morphantis demands it!"

Of course I heard what they said, I just didn't want to believe it, I wanted to avoid it, like the prey that want to be spared, desperately. Desperately I pleaded with my eyes, I've killed, but I just can't kill my own sister. She was really the only thing I had and they wanted us to fight, not only fight, but kill each other. The only person I loved! How could they?

"Papa, mama, please don't make us fight." I cried, tears ran down my dirty face.

"Fight or both of you will be killed," My mother hissed, stepping closer, skin wrapping around her like a robe, looking more like a monster than a woman.

"I'm sorry little brother," My sister cried as she pulled out a pocket knife and walked closer to me.

"Mallery please," I pleaded.

It was nothing I could do to stop her, either she killed me or we'd both be killed in the worst way possible. She gripped her knife and put her hand on my shoulder. She she hugged me before I felt a sharp pain enter my body, she'd stabbed me, her tears fell on the top of my head. she stabbed me 12 times in my abdomen. Flesh flapped and fell to the floor as she stabbed me, tears heavy as she had to obey her parents. After she was done, I was nothing more than a hollowed, gutted, abandoned child who had been thrown aside, left to die.