#eatler

[ask-eat-ler]

[Admin2] A quick drawing of Eatler opening his mouth wide to show off all those pretty lil’ teeths.  He may look calm and willing in this pic but he’s still very much willing to use those fangs to rip and maim. 

[itallstartswithacut]

“Oh no, please, you only came in LATE. Why don’t you wait out in the hall and try NOT to disturb my class on the way out!” 

[ask-eat-ler]

Lonely keeps stealing his towels.  

“You fucking cunt.”

[ask-eat-ler]

“Believe or not, I hate me too.”

[ask-eat-ler]

He’s ready to kill or seduce.

“I got you exactly where I want you.”

[ask-eat-ler]

Chop.

Chop.

THUNK.

Off went the stubborn arm, lulling lazily across his once sterile stainless steel worktable.  With a sharp knife and the surgical procession, he sliced the meat off the bone, peeling pieces into his mouth. 

[ask-eat-ler]

The cannibal stretched out his lengthy limbs, the computer chair creaking under his lithe form.  Exhaustion was finally tearing at his consciousness yet that note was eating at him.

With a groan, he parted from the chair and rounded to his nightstand, grasping the note to look blearily at it. It was simple, elegantly written, and in purple. 

See you soon ~ D

He grimaced and threw it back down, dragging his body to the kitchen to pull one of the many of neatly packages of meat and stuffing the grounded meat into his mouth.  His sharp teeth gnaw noisily upon his late snack, his phone drumming up the only source of light as he read through the news, browsing to see who went missing.

To avoid suspicious and to allow himself to stay situated in places longer, Eat had taken to attacking the homeless population.  This area was swamped with them and no one missed a drug addict, drunkard, or just a poor hapless fool that couldn’t manage their money well enough.  It kept him well under the radar and working at the morge proved to even more beneficial with a few paid connections and blind eyes.

He kept scrolling through the articles, his blurring at the edges.  He’d read and eat for a while long before his fingers no long felt anymore of the bleeding meat and he was left with nothing but wet butcher paper. 

Wrinkling his nose, he crumpled the paper and rose, shoving the phone into his pocket as his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. He navigated easily through the dark apartment until he found himself back in his room, slipping through to the attached bathroom to shower before he would finally convinced himself to go to bed. 

mentions: @ask-genie

[ask-eat-ler]

"Do I have something on my face?”