You look like you could use a drink.
Go on, don't worry, it isn't from the tap. I know society's preference for filtered or bottled water.
Taste good, doesn't it? Refreshing.
I bet you didn't even detect the contaminants as it slithered down your throat.
I know I didn't. Nor, did half the world's population.
Oh, vomiting won't help.
The pharmaceutical ingredient in that glass has already seeped into your bloodstream.
Its already reduced your prospects down to three possibilities: sweet death, transformation into yet another decrepit mindless devourer... or, my personal favorite, a flesh connoisseur.
Not that you have a choice, really. Your body will take care of that.
If fate chooses the afterlife for you, say hello to the devil for me. If converting into a devourer is your destiny, the hunger will most likely erase this conversation from your ravaged mind.
However, if you're lucky enough to become a connoisseur, a flesh savant... then welcome to the feast.
Oh, and please excuse the screams. Our meals around here can be quite... rambunctious.
* Warning, this story contains: cursing, gore, and ample amounts of violence.
*All photos used are not mine and were found through google.
*The words used within my story, however, are mine via copyright, so use your own imagination to create your story.