The Cannibal Within by Mark Mirabello Read Free Book Online Page B

testicles—I could eat no more.
I did, however, drink some more of his blood to stiffen my resolve, and I washed my face with the same blood. The crimson fluid—a kind of war paint—glistened in the darkness.
    In the life history of any woman, I thought, her holiest moment is when she awakens from her powerlessness.
    What I Did With The Castrated Corpse
I wanted to bury the monster face down in a shallow grave— with his mouth filled with dirt and his lips sewn shut—but there was no time.
    So I seized the remains of the brute—his dismembered body was still twitching with life—and I dragged him with great effort. As we moved, we left a trail of his blood and fat on the ground.
    Eventually—after traveling about 30 yards—I found a womblike ditch—about twenty-five feet deep. Filled with evil-smelling chemicals, the ditch produced great naked flames—over three feet high—and a large pillar of smoke— red like blood. Fortuitously, the bottom of the ditch was studded with sharpened metallic stakes.
    Recognizing opportunity—this was my chance to stab him with a metallic penis-substitute—I acted quickly. Spitting into the monster’s mouth, I pushed him into the deep, fiery abyss.
    My aim was true—the trajectory was immaculate—and I impaled the beast on one of the stakes that protruded up from the flames. With supreme justice, the stake perforated his body through the anus.
    Suspended in midair like a butchered animal or a skewered wild pig, the monster died slowly and beautifully.
    As I watched his final moments, I compulsively touched myself. I reached down—where it is hard and pink and soft and white—and it was wet with female secretions.
    The weight of the monster’s corpse, meanwhile, caused it to slide slowly down the stake. Eventually a sharpened metallic tip—glistening with blood and feces—emerged gloriously from his face.
    Then—even as I watched—my victim slowly descended into the liquid inferno at the bottom of the ditch.
Dissolving like soft wax—producing a smoky eruption—the body disappeared into a lake of fire.
Fire purifies everything, I thought.
    As the red smoke, perfumed with the stench of cremated flesh, drifted up and encircled me, I felt strangely renewed. My youth and beauty were gone, but I had tasted the intoxicating sweetness of vengeance.
    Killing the beast, I thought, has restored my virginity and my dignity.
    My Flight From The Underworld Of The Monsters
Greased with grime—slippery with blood and sperm—I started my journey for freedom.
    I could not move quickly—my right foot, infested with parasites, had long ago rotted before my eyes—but I could move deliberately.
    I knew my escape would not be easy—hunted like an animal, I had to flee down nightmare corridors—but I was resolved not to fail.
    I had no idea where I was—like the hapless victims in Plato’s allegory of the cave, I had no certain knowledge of the reality beyond my immediate surroundings—and the mystery was terrifying.
    Was I a prisoner on an alien world? Was I trapped at the Earth’s core? Was I buried alive in an unfathomed void of time and space? I did not know, but I did not give up hope.
    Somehow, I thought, my courage will take me home.
    Crawling In A Tunnel
I found a makeshift weapon—it was the edged device dropped by the beast—and I entered a strange glass-lined tunnel adjacent to the ditch.
    I felt like a commando—a guerilla fighter—for I was at war, I was alone, and I was behind enemy lines.
    Feeling my way through the darkness, I could sense that the tunnel, which was dark, wet, and cut in a spiral, had a gradual upward slope. The further I advanced, the narrower it became.
Crawling on my hands and knees, I moved as quickly as possible. I tried to concentrate, but random information— thoughts, images, and sounds—all chaotic and horrifying— perforated my mind and filled my head.
    When these intrusions are experienced by surface humans, we call it