Starving

It was a cold slightly muggy afternoon and as she walked home. In the thick moist air she didn't look up to admire the sunset blazing in the sky to her left. The trees reflected its brilliant red and gold colors but she took no notice immersed in her thoughts, stuck in her world not noticing anything. Her feet were clad in tight fitting green converse, her legs in the typical bell bottom jeans. she wore a blue hoodie and a green shirt. Her hair was an unremarkable brownish blond and was pulled back into a pony tail. The cell phone in her pocket vibrated gently and she text in a hurried message smiling slightly to herself. She was unremarkable and oblivious. She was just an average girl with very very bad luck.1

I laughed inwardly as she walked by me, not taking the slightest notice. Then I stepped behind her and walked there until she put the cell phone back in her back pocket where I stole it neatly away. She was unconnected and when I grabbed her from behind, clamping my hand over her mouth, the satisfaction I felt in shattering her little perfect teenage universe was unexplainable. She struggled in the seconds that I held her there, biting and kicking and moaning in her vain attempt to draw attention to herself but there was no one to call and when I turned her around to face me she was silent and still. My eyes had done their trick. My poison eyes.2

I examined her face so ugly next to mine and imagined what i must look like to her. A goddess of the sunset, with my long red hair, fiery red eyes, perfect face and long slender inhuman figure. I turned her head silently with my slender hands, one which held six fingers so that she could properly see the sunset she had failed to notice before. Then I carried her to my horse, Argyra Nychta who stood waiting, a black silhouette against the now purple and green sky. 3

With her over my steed's neck, we rode through the trees and across the grass into the city. Somehow we managed to get only one or two glances from the people on the side walks hurrying home. I didn't belong here in this world. I was different. Out of the city we sped. I took her too a mansion in the foothills where I lived and there dismounted letting Argyra canter into the mountains where she was free until I needed her. I released the girl and set her on the ground. Stunned by my appearance, she stood there unable to move until I broke out in a hysterical bout of laughter. At that she started to run but I caught her by the wrist and dragged her still giggling uncontrollably at her terrified expression into the house. 4

Without a word I through her in the room, where I locked her in. It was not a bad room, it held all the familiar comforts of home. in fact it was an exact duplicate of her own room, down to the last scrap of paper. 5

I shut the door, slamming it dramatically and laughing again at the scream of terror she roared and the continued banging and scratching at the door. I left her there for about three days, feeding her all the finest food until at last she was calmed down and going insane with the boredom and fear and ignorance of what i planned to do. 6

Then I came to her dressed in jeans and a tee shirt and a hoodie, normal clothes. I brought with me a hospital bed, chains, and a saw. she bolted for the open door but I grabbed her and swung her effortlessly and gently onto the bed where I proceeded to chain her down. She was weak and powerless. Then I reached up and tore away the ceiling covering revealing a mirror. She stared into her own eyes and screamed when she saw the sharp saw I picked up. The scream split my ears but it was nothing compared to the screams she roared when I began to saw. Blood squirted all over the place and drenched the room. After only a few minutes her struggling stopped and she was silent, passed out from the pain. I finished the job and hauled the severed arm out and onto the platter awaiting it. Then I dressed th wound and cleaned up the mess, laying her down on the bed before leaving. 7

The arm I took away and froze until she was ready for it. I left then, to go camping and living in the mountains with my horses. It was over a month when I returned to her. She was a skeleton, starved and malnourished and unbelievably weak but alive. She was stronger then most. Most would have died by now of the shock from the wound. She didn't even notice me when I checked on her but she did when I brought in the steaming hot arm. It had been roasted and seasoned and was now ready to eat. I longed to eat it myself but longed even more what she would do. 8

When she saw it it took her a second to recognize it but when she did she uttered a feeble squeak that must have been the equivalent of a scream. I left her with it. It took her another day to eat it. She spread it out over two days but knowing it would rot finished it. 9

I left her again, and the next time I returned she was dead. Not even her, the girl who would eat her own flesh to survive, could hold onto life forever.