Crave

(tw//cannibalism, blood, and gore)

I couldn’t believe he agreed to come over. I wouldn’t want to talk to– let alone ever see me again after the award show fiasco. I should’ve been more composed. More professional. But, I couldn’t bear to see him smirk at me. To smile at me…

I almost gagged thinking about it.

So, I tripped him. Came as naturally as breathing, and you know what? I would do it again.

He knew what he was doing. I should’ve won best pop artist. He only won because all of his fans are prepubescent teenage girls. Which begged the question, can we even really trust someone who caters to little girls? At his big age. I sneered.

I guess that wasn’t entirely fair, he’s not that much older than me.

I just didn’t like it. I just didn’t like him. And that was okay. I’ve worked ten times harder than he had to get to where I was. I’ve made countless TikTok uploads, innovative engagement stunts, hours upon hours of studying the algorithm, slaved away in and out of the studio making tracks… And all he’d done was been born. His parents were industry professionals. Father was the head of the lead music agency in the city and his mother was a world-renowned opera singer.

He’s smug and overconfident and lip-synced to half of his performances… but, he could dance. That much was made very clear. And I did admittedly… like his outfits. Some of them.

Knock, knock!

I tried to regain some composure, smoothing my skirt down as I went to open the door. I rehearsed my greeting in my head before turning the knob. Hopefully, everything would just go as planned. No funny business. This was just to show good faith... Nothing more. Nothing less. A kind gesture that my PR manager had forced upon me.

I opened the door.

He stood there, looking very non-plussed either way. That was fine. I could work with that.

His stupid dumb face hole opened up. “Hey.”

“Hi!” I sounded way too eager. “Thank you so much again, I feel really bad about what happened… um… performer to performer, do you think we could put it behind us?”

He stared at me silently for a moment. I scraped at the edge of my nail, picking a hangnail off until it bled.

“... Sure.” He pushed his way in, bumping my shoulder.

I frowned.

“The only reason I’m doing this is so my agent gets off my ass about 'forgiveness', by the way,” Ethan said. “Don’t get your hopes up."

I tried to smile as politely as I could. “... I wasn’t going to…”

The table I had worked so hard to lay out before us was full of a plethora of salads, tiny cakes, and a selection of fine cut meats. There were bottles of wine lined up next to my most ornate glasses.

Ethan had started to laugh… hard. He held his stomach and bowled himself over. He laughed… and laughed… until tears started in his eyes. I didn’t want to interrupt.

He finally looked up to address me. “Are you fucking serious?”

“... is something wrong–”

“I’m a vegetarian," Ethan said. “What’s the deal? Okay, why are you… acting like this? First, you try to kill me on stage and now you’re trying to poison me?”

"Kill is a bit extreme--"

"You tried to trip me off the stage--"

“That was an accident, okay? And, I had no idea that--”

Ethan started to walk away and waved a hand dismissively.

“Of course, you didn’t.”

I reached out to grab him, managing a hold of his sleeve.

He tried to pull away. I pulled harder. My own strength surprised me.

"Let go!" He shouted.

"I'm sorry-- I-- I can't--" I stammered, trying to keep him in place. He couldn't leave. Not like this. I had everything all planned out.

He tried to pull away again but to no avail. Somehow... I was keeping him here. Without any extraordinary effort.

"Let go of me, you freak--"

I leapt on him.

I couldn’t stop it at first...

The hunger.

Suddenly, my mouth was full. A beautiful melody of flavor. Simmering heat and a rush of zest, texture, sweat and blood. I almost moaned, digging my hands deeper into his arm to ensure he couldn’t stop my bliss not a second too soon. I shook my head, ripping and tearing like a snared animal. The savoring of the meat became a sad and unsure silence. The silence was then interrupted by the screaming.

His flesh gave away easily. My teeth sunk in and tore away at chunks of fat and muscle. Blood ran down my chin and pooled down my neck, staining my clothes and dripping onto the floor.

I hadn’t meant to do this… I hadn’t…

This was supposed to be an apology dinner. To show that there was no bad blood between us as performers. And now there's... I looked down at the crimson river billowing across my wood floor.

He screamed and screamed and fought to rip his arm free, but there was nothing on this Earth that would stop me from feeding. This sudden hunger was inescapable, something primal.

My sense came back to me.

My eyes were no longer clouded with gluttony.

I reached for the phone in my pocket frantically, letting Ethan go. He screamed and fled for the door, only to slip on the blood. He landed face down on the floor.

I dial for my manager immediately.

"Hello-- hello-- there's been an accident-- a, um... a mistake. Something's horribly wrong. I, um... I bit him. I ate parts of him. I-- I really don't know what to do. Please, I'm so scared."

“What did you think would happen?” Robertson asked, frighteningly matter-of-fact.

Ethan slowly regained consciousness and scrambled for the door, stumbling around with half of the tendons in his arm spilling out. I chased after him, grabbing him by the leg and slamming him back down towards the ground.

“I’m sorry!” I cried.

He didn’t seem to care. He kept screaming as he struggled against my hand. He started calling for help– someone lived above and below me, they would definitely hear. I climbed on top of him and reached to cover his mouth with my free hand.

“I’m so sorry!” I said again, before continuing my conversation with Robertson. “What-- what are you talking about?”

“What did you think would happen? You said at any cost.”

“I-- I thought you were being figurative. I just fucking bit Ethan’s arm off.”

“Alright, well, I dunno how you’re confused, but let me lay it out for you… again.”

Teeth clamped down around my fingers and I shouted in pain. But, I kept my hand where it was.

“You need to consume… meat.”

“Meat?”

“C’mon, Gia, use that brain… Human meat. The meat of your competition. How else do you think you're gonna get your talents? It has to come from somewhere. It doesn’t come from thin air… I can’t just conjure it up from nothing,” Robertson said. "This is very delicate work I've had to set up."

"What delicate work? Who did you--"

“Matter cannot be created or destroyed, blah blah blah. You want to stay where you're at, right? You want to get even better? More fame? More fans? You need to keep eating… otherwise… It was all for nothing... and you’ve just murdered a man. In your own apartment.”

"Please, just help me. Tell me what to do."

“If you want to keep your accolades… your newfound skills and talent… you will kill him... and finish what you started. Eat."

I stared down at the scared, helpless screaming man under me. I hoped that the crying would drown out the sound of my stomach growling.

It didn’t.