The first thing I notice is the numbness, followed immediately by nauseating hunger.
I look around, I’m a bit confused, if I’m being honest; but my appetite suppresses any ability to think clearly.
I remember a car, I remember a crash, I don’t remember it ending well.
I let out a groan as my decayed muscles try to move me to a sitting position.
“You’re back,” I hear a voice say.
I can hear my neck creak as I turn to find it’s owner.
Oh.
If I could feel anything other than crazed hunger I would’ve been happy, maybe some compounding relief.
“I’m hungry” I say,
Something is not right,
He makes a move towards me, somewhat hesitantly, I can see.
For the first time, I look down at myself.
I am repulsive to look at.
Grey skin and open wounds full of black coagulated goo.
I bring my hand up to touch my face, and the skin caves under the slight pressure.
Under my flesh feels like broken glass.
I imagine my face sagging and drooping in unnatural ways but for now, all I can do is feel.
I look back at him.
“I brought you back, I couldn’t loose you.”
“Im hungry” I say.
“I know,” he says.
He shakily reaches towards me and pulls me into an embrace.
Through his soft weeping I can hear him whispering I’m sorry, over and over again.
He holds me tight, pulling my head onto his shoulder.
I press my lips against the flesh and feel the warm vibration of blood pumping through his veins.
My head falls slightly, following the pale blue lines down to his forearm.
Mindlessly, I suck the flesh into my mouth and bite down till I hear the pop of punctured skin.
My mouth fills with blood instantly and I gulp it down in a frenzy,
I tear through veins and arteries, I gnaw on cartilage and bone.
I can’t help but admire the beautiful red, blues and yellows as I eat my way through layers of dermis.
The way his flesh throbs against my teeth is almost erotic.
I savour the way the tense muscles slowly relax as they are ripped off the bone.
All I see is red and viscera, he’s giving me all I need and it’s almost enough to make me cum.
I can hear him screaming and I can feel his sorry attempts to push me off of him.
There’s a voice in my head begging me to stop, I know I should stop but there’s a louder voice screaming more more more.
I’m so very hungry.
He manages to yank his arm back and brings his foot up and kicks me square in the jaw.
I don’t feel pain, I just feel annoyed that my meal has been interrupted.
I need more, I’m nowhere near satiated.
I look back up at him to see him crying and wrapping his gash with his shirt.
Momentarily I feel something other than hunger and I wish I could caress his check and tell him i’m sorry.
“I’m hungry”.
“I know baby, we’ll figure it out, just, please stay with me,” he says as he cradles his arm.
I take that as a promise that my appetite will be met.
I hear his heart pounding in his chest in anticipation of my next move.
I drag myself over to him, I want to kiss him, touch him, hold him.
I open my mouth to say ‘I love you’
What comes out instead is “I’m hungry”.
