Silly Short Stories and Poems

Taste For Man

some weird-ass shit i wrote when bored. o^o i was in the mood for someone gettin' eaten.

kinda like how it came out.

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Faint footsteps pricked my attention; bright purple eyes bore down into my own. Out of the black wall of forest, a slender figure formed, torn jeans gripping to his slender waist.

There wasn't a word uttered between us, then again, why would there needed to be? An unfamiliar male, blocking my path and licking his paled lips as a wolf would. The way his eyes scoured me, it had me thinking he was seeing me as some hunk of meat, a deep red of blood. Hunger in those pools of purple, hunger as a cannibal's.

His tousled head of hair shifted as he cocked his head to the side, wind bristling through it, a demented smirk coming to his wet lips, he was beginning to approach...

I stepped back and he followed with another step forward, his eyes widened at the possibility of a chase. I could feel my eyes narrow as I let myself to wonder exactly what this male was and why he was so keen on staring at me with those starved eyes. A male whom was randomly wandering the woods at night, besides me, which was an entirely different story.

There wasn't a way around; I had to go in his direction, just right past him. Why did this unnerve me so? I drew in a breath, walking forward only to have my path obstructed by his arm, his nails digging into a nearby tree's bark as he gripped, making sure I wouldn't knock his arm out the way. I staggered backwards despite myself, now gazing even more intently as he stalked forward, a sigh of demented pleasure falling from his lips.

'Run' It was the first and last thought, but I didn't respond, I planted myself firmly on the ground, eyes glaring back into those beautiful purple. 'Move.' I tried to pry myself, nothing happened.

He darted forward, I stumbled back, his fist connecting with my middle section and knocking me from my feet. I grabbed at the air, drawing in a breath before I fell back against the cold earth and felt the weight of the man on me.

His nails dug into my flesh, his razor teeth latched onto my throat. I could hear myself scream, I could feel his teeth dig in deeper following by the tearing of my skin, a sticky liquid oozing from my throat, down onto myself. I looked up, feeling blood splatter onto my face from the chunk of meat he held in his mouth.

His hand gripped my shoulder, the cracking of my bones following the action as he began to tear into me further; I blinked, gasping for air as more bites ensued. I was trying to gain air, trying to fight back. Another crack, my clothes sticking to my body where blood dripped out, it all was fading in and out, the noises becoming distant. I pried my eyes open for one last glance, meeting the deep purple, the crimson of blood tainting their pure color, the cannibal urge now satisfied.