The Cannibal Within by Mark Mirabello Read Free Book Online

my stomach, made me afraid. This was a lucid dream, and I knew that eating books in dreams is an omen of doom.
    ‘I can’t die now!’ I shouted enigmatically in the dream. ‘I want to be the first into the future!’
    One More Crime
I awoke suddenly, and I noticed the door of my cage was open. One of the monsters—the same transhuman who had raped me and degraded me and kept me prisoner—was standing over me. In his powerful jaws, some mutilated prey—I think it was a human baby—was writhing in agony.
    The little victim reached out to me—strangely, in this hot place, his tiny hands seemed almost blue with cold—but I could not help him.
    Before I could act, the monster crushed the baby’s head between his teeth—as easily as a man would crush a grape— and sucked out the contents.
    The child shrieked—his white bones splintered—and his nose filled with blood.
Averting my eyes from the horror, I saw fragments of a tiny skull—scattered like flowers on the ground.
I was reminded of a sacred cauldron—a holy grail that had been shattered.
Ancient words—harsh incantations from a dead language— spontaneously fell from my lips.
‘Jubela, Jubelo, Jubelum,’ I whispered. ‘Head, throat, and heart, I will avenge you, little one.’
    Mysterious Words
Casually throwing the remains of his victim aside—only the baby’s skeleton and liver remained—the beast seized me with his powerful hands and dragged me from my cage. He was so close I choked on his putrid breath.
    As the monster stared into my eyes—a direct gaze that threatened death—he began to utter noise with his mouth. Resembling glossolalian gibberish, I still remember the sounds clearly.
‘Nuk Pu Nuk,’ he said slowly. ‘Nuk Pu Nuk.’
    His speech shocked me, for although these monsters are orally fixated creatures who satisfy virtually all their needs via the mouth—they express aggression by biting and pleasure by sucking—they typically communicate telepathically.
    ‘Nuk Pu Nuk,’ he repeated, this time with greater force.
    I have always believed in the power of words—all masters of psychological warfare are skillful verbal terrorists—and I knew the beast was trying to terrify me.
    ‘Nuk Pu Nuk,’ said the beast. ‘Nuk Pu Nuk.’
Staring back into his eyes, I tried to steel my will. In my mouth, however, I could taste the fear.
    The Stigmata Of The Beast
Dragging me some forty yards from the cage, the monster stopped and reached into a satchel of some sort. He extracted an edged device—some kind of technologically advanced branding iron—and he pressed it successively against my cheek, my shoulder, and my thigh.
    Each time, the object—which seemed to leak energy—grew white-hot for about three seconds and burned the living skin. Later, when the scabs fell off, I was left with permanent scars.
    Then I heard a strange sound in my head, and the monster forced me to the cold dirt. Wallowing in the mud, I felt degraded, humiliated, passive....
I briefly thought again about suicide—whenever I am raped, I think about eating dirt until I die—but the self-destruction fantasy soon passed.
    Instinctively, I opened for him. As I had done hundreds— perhaps thousands—of times before, I opened my legs to accommodate the lecherous monster.
    This time, however, was different. This time, he no longer seemed interested in traditional vaginal intercourse.
    Anxiety overwhelmed me—I feared my blighted womb, ravaged by pregnancy and dried out by time—had lost all value, and I prepared for the worst.
    I imagined a red death—a violent death—and I imagined his belly full of my tortured flesh.
    A Dream About The Pit And The Worms Again I blacked out, and I had another vivid dream. It was a revolting nightmare.
    In the dream, I was in a rectangular pit—some sort of sinkhole. Covered with filth, I was standing in the black water up to my knees.
    ‘Error is like sin,’ hissed a voice in the dream. ‘The deeper it is, the