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I don’t know when this all started. Perhaps it was the taco truck outside of my home one day. Perhaps I had eaten some uncooked pork and one of those worms traveled to my brain to rest until it died, taking me with it. Maybe it was a water bug that enjoys traveling up your nose and into your brain when you snort it into your system through tepid, tropical waters.


Whatever it was, it happened when I was in South Florida. I didn’t notice it right away, but I knew something was off. During the day I’d stumble and fall and want to sleep in all morning long. I thought I had a cold as I was sneezing and sniffling uncontrollably until I downed some of the horrible tasting, cough and cold medicine that lets you sleep through the night.

I awoke refreshed and feeling like a new person. I was happy, vibrant. My whole outlook on life had changed. In fact, I felt like I was a better person. I felt like I had accomplished so much when in reality I really hadn’t. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t a bipolar person or manic depressive in any terms, but I felt so much different! I felt like I could conquer the world!

I went into work with a smile, which was a huge attitude change for me. People noticed. They actually smiled back. That had never happened before. Some were confused. I even heard Leslie ask her sidekick if someone had removed the stick from my ass. I laughed at her and winked. “Now that was funny!”

She seemed a bit confused as I didn’t normally speak to her, but I let her know that donuts were on their way and her happy fat ass would enjoy them. I think that was my first mistake of the morning. She burst into tears and suddenly everyone was against me. I didn’t mean anything by it, she calls herself fat ass all of the time. I abruptly apologized and went into my office.

“Would you like some coffee, ma’am?” My secretary spoke to the intercom. She was usually chipper, but I could hear the concern in her voice.

“Yes, please. And would you bring in those donuts? I’m really hungry.”

A few minutes later the donuts appeared with the coffee I had asked for. Mins was such a good slave working at a low income. Maybe I’ll give her a raise. Maybe not. I’m not sure if she even earned it this year sitting on her ass all day long and rarely doing anything but filing her nails. She did know what kind of donuts I like though, give her a prize for that knowledge.

The hunger was gripping me as I stared at the chocolate glazed cake goodness in front of me. One bite and the whole donut was devoured. The second one went just as fast. I didn’t even realize they were gone until the hunger pains in my stomach growled again. I opened my emergency drawer and pulled out a bag of chocolate candy. Piece by piece I ate without even stopping. The phone rang, there was a knock at my office door–all ignored until I popped the last piece into my mouth.

I sat there dumbfounded while staring at the empty bag. I usually just eat a small handful to keep my day going decently if I find myself in a bad mood. I had never eaten a whole bag before, and yet I was still hungry! I tried working more. I even tried calling the customers I didn’t like just so I could get angry enough not to eat and nothing was working at all. The more I sat, the hungrier I got. It was so frustrating and humiliating.

First, I set out to the company fridge. I figured maybe some of yesterday’s luncheon was leftover. I started eating what was left of the chow mein and then the sweet and sour. I didn’t even bother to heat it up–I just ate it. I ate it all including the BBQ pork spare ribs and the nasty pineapple fried rice. I couldn’t believe I ate the fried rice as it always tasted like crap the next day all dried out and crunchy. But I just kept on eating.

I searched around for more food. Other people had lunches in the fridge.  I was a bit apprehensive to touch any of their meals, but then I thought what the hell, right? You only live once. People were gathering around as I started off with Greg’s meatloaf sandwich and then Franchesca’s tuna salad sandwich. I guzzled down Pat’s protein drink and then George’s subway sandwich from the deli. After the whole fridge was devoured, the hunger grew and I pushed through the crowd leaving the whole mess on the table and went out to my car.

Several people followed me and stared in curiosity as I poured the remaining cashew mix into my mouth from the front seat of my car and then I grabbed a trail mix bag and ate that, too. Sadly, I was still hungry so I drove off. Screw the job. Who needs to sit there all day talking to whiney customers anyway? All they do is bitch all of the time!

I hit the store on the way home and grabbed a huge family pack of ground beef then suddenly it hit me. All I really wanted was meat. I bought as many of the family packages as I could including pork chops, bacon, steak, and then some. The clerk looked at me almost cross-eyed when the total of $750 rang up on the register. I knew I didn’t have that much in checking so I pulled out my company card. Hell, they were probably going to fire me anyway at that point. I might as well use as much as I could.

Before arriving at home I used their card once again and bought a few bacon burgers and mushroom and swiss burgers at the fast-food place. The first six I scarfed down even before I hit my driveway. Tom, the neighbor I had a crush on for years after I moved in, ran over to help me with the groceries as I got out of the car. He hoisted a few bags in his arms while I carried the fast food and keys. As I opened the door he rushed in and put them on the table.

“Having a BBQ?” he asked while pointing at all the meat.

“Thinking about it.” I lied. I didn’t want him to know it was all for me.

He eyed the fast food bags and just nodded. “Just let me know. I have to get on to work now.”

“What time you be home?” I asked, not even knowing why.

“Around 4,” he said as he started to walk out the door.

“Come back later then and have some.” I smiled and felt just a little weird for asking. It hadn’t even crossed my mind, almost like eating all of the food in the fridge. I just did it for no reason.

After putting away the groceries, I started with the bags of fast food. After the first two, I really didn’t have an appetite for the buns and tossed all of them away. Soon it was the veggies turn to disappear into the trash can. All I craved was the meat. I gorged on the patties and cheese. The only reason I ate the cheese is that it was impossible to take off. Worse, I was still hungry!

I started cooking the ground beef and as I waited, the pain in my stomach grew so much that it hurt. I hunched down with the cramps and bashed my fists against the ground. I knew I was going insane. I had to be. I started crying and fell asleep on the floor of my kitchen in tears.

About 20 minutes later the smoke alarm woke me up. I had totally burnt the burgers I was cooking. There were four, all charred on one side and slightly well done on the other. One by one, without even caring about the burn marks on my lips and tongue, I ate them. I felt the hot meat travel down my throat and esophagus piece by piece and burning my insides on the way down but I kept on until all of the meat was gone.

After turning on the exhaust fan I went into the bathroom and looked at my face. I didn’t recognize it. My eyes didn’t look like my eyes. I felt like I was staring at a stranger.  In fact, it eerily made me hungrier. My lips were blistered from the heat of the burnt hamburger and so was my tongue and as I looked at the blisters like they were fresh meat I mumbled, “Why cook it if it is going to hurt you?”

My stomach started to really hurt then. Not from being full and not from being possibly burnt; I was hungrier than ever. I looked at the ground beef I left on the counter and then, as shocking as it was to me, I grabbed fistfuls of the raw hamburger meat and started shoving them into my mouth. One handful after the other, I chewed the bloody raw meat and swallowed. It was so delicious that I couldn’t stop. I finally felt whole.

Next, I grabbed a 6-piece package of t-bone steak. Grabbing the ends of the bones I masticated each fleshy part of the meat and dropped the bones on to the styrofoam when finished. My stomach gurgled in need more when I looked at the bones I left behind after eating the raw meat. Piece by piece I chewed up the bones, breaking teeth in the process and sometimes stabbing my gums and cheeks. At that point, I didn’t know if my bloodstained fingers were from the meat or my mouth, but it tasted good. I chewed on my lip for a moment, tearing a piece off and swallowing it then quickly forced that out of my mind.

Oh, I couldn’t stop! I ate the sausages, raw of course. I even cracked the eggs into my mouth and swallowed each one. Soon, I was playing in another package of ground beef while throwing handfuls up into the air and catching them into my mouth. Mmm, it tasted so good. I even licked up the pieces off of the floor that missed my lips.

It was almost four when I heard the knock on the door. I knew I was a bloody mess, but I didn’t care. When I let Tom inside he was a bit taken by my appearance. “What did you do? Eat all of the meat?” he laughed, probably not even knowing how close he was to the truth.

I was puzzled as to why I didn’t feel full at all after hearing his statement, but then I caught myself wondering how juicy his arm must be with all of those muscles. “Did you just get done working out?” I said as I ran my fingers down his arm and pressed hard into his bicep.

He stepped back awkwardly and snorted a laugh. “Yeah, I did.”

My stomach roared even louder as I felt the muscle tense under my grip. I wanted to dig my nails into his flesh and rip the muscle to the bone then eat it. The saliva pooled into my lower lip area and dripped down the side of my mouth. My grip tightened.

“Hey, I gotta go. Maybe some other time,” he said as he pushed me away and ran out the door.

At that point, the hunger in my stomach turned into extreme pain. I was cramping for food--for meat. When I questioned it, my brain screamed raw and my conscience said no. I was torn, confused. I bashed my fists against my head then replaced them with the wall. As I pounded my head on the surface of the drywall, the blood began to trickle down my face. Staring at the crimson dent I made in the paint I tasted the liquid dripping onto my lips. My stomach roared again.

I couldn’t let the world see me like this, but I had already eaten all of the meat in the house and I was starving for more. Then I remembered the rat traps I put in the garage. I crawled down like a cat waiting for its prey then opened the garage door. The dense heat warmed my now cold heart and felt good, but not enough to curb my appetite.

Right there, in the trap was a dead rat. It wasn’t there last night as I had just put the trap out. It looked at me with dead, beady eyes as I removed it from the metal clamp. The little bit of human left in me cringed as I tore into the fur and flesh of the creature. I chewed and chewed then swallowed the beast from nose to tail. Finally, satisfaction. I felt full.

I rested in the corner of the warm garage for a bit until I felt a tug at my finger. It was another rat probably smelling its friend and the dried blood on my hand. As my gut roared again, I grabbed it and while it squealed I bit into the hair and skin. The shrieks of pain only added to my frenzy while I ate until the squeals subsided and it lied dead in my hands. Disgusted with the rest of its dead body, I tossed it outside until the urge hit me again and I ran outside to grab the little dead beast.

The neighbors were watching now, including that cute guy I wanted to devour. They pointed at me and whispered. I hissed at them and ran on all fours like an ape back into my house and slammed the door. I supposed that was the last straw. They knew I was crazy and something had to be done about it which meant that I knew I couldn’t leave my house.

I sat there in front of the fireplace all night long while screeching and starving. The roar in my belly ached so bad and there was nothing in the house that would satisfy me. I tried everything. I tried bread, donuts, cookies, cereal and none of them worked. The vegetables just gave me stomach pain. I wanted, no I needed, meat.

As I grew colder and sat closer to the fireplace I looked down at my arm. Suddenly, my mouth began to water as I watched the muscle twitch in my bicep. I rubbed my nose and mouth against it, horrified by the thought but so very hungry. My lips felt good against my skin and my tongue tingled at the salty taste. As I bit down, I screamed in pain and moaned at the pleasure of the blood filling my mouth. I began to chew and gnaw at my own flesh, blood pouring down my arm and, as I swallowed my first bite, I smiled into the mirror in the living room.

I’m not sure if it was the scream that brought the police over or they were already on their way because of my strange behavior outside, but I just remember lying there with half of my arm gone and my body in a state of shock to hide the pain. As they picked me up and put me on a gurney, I laughed and my stomach roared.

Days later, as I lie strapped down to a hospital bed in a drug-induced coma, I remember hearing the doctor talking about my x-rays to another. He said something about a worm in my brain that was similar to a pork worm touching on my hypothalamus and another in the frontal lobe. They say nothing could be done about it until the worms either died or I died because surgery removing the worm would kill me or leave me a vegetable.

As one of the doctors leaned over and checked my eyes, my stomach began rumbling.

Written by Spookyboorhodes
Content is available under CC BY-SA