Flesh. It's not so bad. It tastes almost like pork really. A bit more bitter and a stronger flavor I guess. But similar enough. At first I tried it out of curiosity. Everyone wants to know what it tastes like, right? I always did. I used to imagine it day and night. Just curious of the taste. There's lots of different parts in a human. Liver in particular is a popular one among my kind. I never really liked it though. The really edgy type would say they love to eat the heart, because it's symbolic or something along those lines. Eating an enemy's heart I mean. Or anyone's heart really. I for one though, particularly enjoy the brain. It must be cooked just right.
I remember the first time I had a taste. The first time I decided to take an action and see what my own kind tasted like. It was night time of course, and I decided to go find a homeless person. No one cares about the homeless, I thought, so no one would even notice if a homeless person went missing. I found one sleeping in an ally way. Not surprising. I decided it'd be easiest if I did it all silently and killed this man before he even had time to wake. I wasn't exactly the strongest person and I just wanted to get it over with. I brought with me a shopping cart I found in a parking lot, and my sharpest pocket knife, which was about six inches long. Pretty sturdy. I'd never used it on a person (or anything else living that's not a plant for that matter), so I wasn't sure if it would work well enough. I was nervous and my stomach was churning a bit.
I started walking closer to this homeless man and when I got within about four feet, his stench hit me. What a god awful smell. That didn't help my stomach any. I decided I'd better deal with him quick though. I plunged the blade into his throat and tried to start cutting across. It was tougher than I'd imagined so I just started stabbing at his neck. At the time this imagery seemed like a lot to handle, and I was honestly wondering if it was at all worth it. It took a while for him to die, too. At least five long minutes. He didn't really fight much though. I doubt he had much strength, since he was homeless, he probably hadn't eaten in the past few days, so it's not surprising.
Once he finally died I just stood for a moment, taking in what I had just done. I never thought I had any morals, but in that moment, I felt truly sorry. Only for a moment though, as I realized I would need to be leaving soon. I covered him with a tarp after placing him in the cart. God damn was he heavy. I wheeled him to my car which was behind some old apartments that looked abandoned. The windows were boarded up and all. I placed the tarp down in the back seat, then the man. The rest was all easy. I took him home, I actually washed him because the stench was too much, and I used an old axe my dad had given me before he passed away to chop him up.
After I cooked and ate the parts I wanted to try, I thought this would be a one time deal. It's funny, it reminds me of when I was around eighteen and I got my wisdom teeth pulled. They gave me Vicodin for pain and when I had no more pain I thought, "Ok, I'll only use this to get high once and then never again." I got addicted in a week. Almost the same deal with human flesh. Once you have it, you want nothing else, and you can't put it down.
Here I am, twenty years later. Never caught. About to meet my own demise. I've been living in these mountains for about seven years, and never thought this would happen. I'm so stupid. I can't believe that this is the end, but at the same time, I accept it. I slipped down the mountain a bit. I've broken both of my ankles and I haven't been able to stand without excruciating pain. Thankfully I had this pencil and notebook in my pack to at least occupy myself before I die. It's been a while, 14 hours by my count, and I'm already starting to feel weary in this cold. This is night one. Hopefully this will be the only night I have to suffer.
I've been hearing some movement in the trees. I've seen boot prints in the snow. Someone is watching me. At first when I noticed I decided to start yelling out for help. I did this for what felt like a pretty long time. By my watch, it's been twenty minutes since then, I can still hear movement from time to time. If this is indeed a person, I'm being watched. They don't know I have a knife in each boot, and a machete hidden under my jacket. Never leave home without it. I may be injured and dying but I'm not going down without a fight.
The sun will start setting soon. I haven't had food in a long time. I'm starting to get very tired and weak. My hands and face are numb from the cold. Hell, my whole body is numb. My feet have been numb since the ankles broke. It's getting harder to write but I have to occupy myself somehow. I stopped hearing the movement but it worries me. If someone were to attack me while I slept, I'd be at a huge disadvantage, and it seems like I'll be nodding off soon.
I woke in what appears to be a basement. I'm chained to a wall by my ankle. The thing I heard in the trees must have been the person who took me here. I've been stripped of everything but my notebook and watch. Even my clothes are now gone. I've been given a different pencil than the one I had before. This one is duller. This is probably to keep me from using it as a weapon.
As I look around I realize I'm not the only one down here. Two other people are also chained to the same anchor spot in the wall. They were both males. Both asleep. I got very excited. What one man may see as "people" I saw as "food". I had no idea how long it had been since I had food. All I knew was I was starving. I usually don't eat raw or live human, but I had no choice here. I got close to one of the two and started biting at his neck below his beard furiously.
He had no time to react. However, neither did I really. As I was chomping away at this still breathing food source, I didn't even notice the figure behind me. I was swatted in the back with a whip. It stung more than anything I've ever felt. The force tore my skin and I immediately hopped back in pain from the food I was enjoying.
The attacker was the one who put us down here. At least that's what I assume. Next I saw him put the partially eaten meal on a table and start cutting him up with a chainsaw. He stored the parts he wanted to keep in a freezer and the rest he put in a bag and took with him upstairs. I tried to stand after this but remembered my ankles were broken after feeling the pain again. I didn't know what else to do as the freezer was out of reach. Even if it wasn't, and I started eating again, I'd probably just get the same punishment twofold. I wonder why I've been allowed to keep my notebook. Maybe my captor is doing an experiment. For now, I must sleep. I have nothing else to do.
I slept a while. I'm starting to think the other guy is dead or something. I haven't seen him awake since I've been here. I'm starting to realize what's happening. It's almost an ironic and fitting end for me. I just can't believe it took me so long to realize.
I'm still hungry. Starving. I just want to go back to my hut. I have human bits stored there. Earlier the captor came down and grabbed the other person down there and put him on a table and cut him up just like the last. I realized he wasn't dead when he looked at me as he was being dragged. He had the saddest look on his face. I swear I saw a single tear roll down his face. It's been a long time since I've felt even a little bit of humanity. In that moment it's like I felt all of the pain of my victims and guilt I've been shoving down inside me for the past twenty years. I still haven't recovered from that feeling.
He didn't scream as he was cut. His limbs were first. Legs. Then arms. Then finally head. The whole time he just stared at me with that look of sorrow. No screams. Not even any movements really. I eventually closed my eyes to block out the site but it's been in my minds eye ever since. I know I'm next. I just want to get it over with. Let me die already.
Day Three, 8:22 AM
So weak. Needing food. Vision blury. So thirsy.
The most surprising thing happened. I fell asleep earlier and when I woke, there was a small glass of water and a little bit of food served in chunk form. I'm not a fan of human chunks of meat, but beggars cannot be choosers. I feel much better now.
Why am I still alive?
My watch finally gave out. It's an old thing. The man came back down with another person and placed him on the cutting table. He used an axe this time. Weird. The person was already dead too.
Feels like it's been days since I've seen or heard anything other than this room and my own thoughts.
More food. More water. Thankfully. I've had to shit. I don't know where to go other than the corner of the room. The only corner I can reach.
After such a long time he's brought down another person. I can't have seen what I thought I did though. Same beard. Same hair. Same eyes. Same wound on his back. This man was an exact copy of me. His voice was even the same. Although all I heard were screams, they matched what mine should sound like. What's going on here? I can't get the image out of my head.
Why is it always the legs, then the arms, then the head? Why is only the torso kept in his freezer? It's the same thing every time.
I saw me again. This time there were no screams. Only tears and sobs.
How long has it been? I can't take this much longer. There has to be a way to end my life. I can't take it.
This is the first time I've seen the man's face. He was... Me. They're all me. Every single one of them has been me.
Finally. I see myself coming towards me with a knife. This is it. This is the end.
He cut out my liver, then ate it in front of me. I'm bleeding out quick.
I see me everywhere. It's all me. All of it. Me. I see me painted on the walls. The freezer opened and what came out? Me. Parts of me. Multiple me's now come and go cutting and carving. I saw me and me eat my own brain. I saw me pull my own flesh apart. I've lied on that table and watched as another me once again cut my liver out. I see me. Its always been me. It's all me.