The aroma? Yes! The succulent savor? Its weight and marrow? I imagine the cooling flames of the elixir cascading down my throat, nourishing me. But I am parched and barren. A husk. My need envelops every painful step I take. Soon I will need blood. I am the hunter, you are the...
You are the food
You are the food
You are the food
You are the food
I have fed upon many. Their faces float before me, some to haunt me and some to thank me. Full lips beg for pleasure and receive ecstasy. Glazed eyes plead for life, but find only release. Before my hunger, their fates were now sealed. My need was their end. My desire the final nail in their coffins.
Those who died, were they not criminals? Had not those faces looked upon death. They knew me when our paths crossed. Death destroys death; just as life begets life. I am the Beast.
The sound of violence assaults me in a music of power. It sings of my need and awakens my hunger. I track the music to its source, A peacock costumed in garments of color, beating a painted woman onto the ground. He pulls money from her bag. Parasite! Slowly I approach him. Cancer. He allows his eyes to meet mine. Disease. I swallow his essence into mine. Dust!