Viscera and Other Tales

Aches

The pain radiating off my tooth is telling me to do bad things.

I run my tongue along it, tracing the crack line all the way around the rotting oral instrument. It will be my third to be extracted.

The stitches haven't even healed from the second one yet, so the taste of sour blood lingers in my mouth. I haven't eaten comfortably in weeks.

The previous two spoke as well. Not as loudly though. I have to wonder if it's God himself or maybe something even worse.

Taste.

Flesh.

That's all it keeps repeating. It doesn't have to say more. Every person I pass, those two words repeat themselves, over and over.

I picture myself sinking my teeth into the woman next to me. I'm in line at the grocery store, buying more pain meds. Not the typical place for cannibalism.

The pain pulsates. I picture me grabbing her arm and biting into her veins. Her shrieks as the warm blood cascades down my chin. I rip the veins up like they're stringy meat, grinding my teeth until they snap.

Flesh! Flesh! Flesh!

"Uhhhh, sir?"

I snap back and make eye contact with the teenager behind the counter. The woman next to me looks frightened, she picks up her bread and orange juice and moves to a different register.

"It'll be $10.52..."

At first, I think he's staring at my tooth before I realize I'm drooling. I wipe it away and attempt a smile but from his reaction I can tell it just makes me creepier.

I take my meds and hustle to the car, paranoid that everyone around me can read into my intentions.

My hunger.

A raw hurt makes the tooth feel alive. I can tell it's starting to rot out of me. I need it out. I need it out. I need-

A knock at my window.

"This yours?"

The man holds up a wallet. It is mine.

"Was on the floor out here next to the car. Figured I'd ask before rummaging through it."

I can tell he's expecting me to laugh. The searing pain worming its way from my tooth to my eye doesn't allow me to feign politeness.

He clears his throat uncomfortably. "Well, uh, anyways, here ya go. I see it's you on the driver's license."

I roll down my window. He reaches in to hand it.

Taste. Flesh.

My breath quickens.

I can see myself reach for his head, jerking it closer to me. He screams and tries to get away, I sink my teeth into his eye. The juices spurt and sizzle against my tongue.

"Buddy, what the fuck is your problem?" He says, tossing the wallet into my car and hurrying off.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the side mirror. I'm drooling again.

***

The waiting room of the dentist's office always makes my stomach churn. There's no less than three grubby children waddling around, harassing anyone else that's waiting.

They seem to knowingly avoid me though. Can they sense the hunger?

Soon a dental assistant is calling me to the back and there I am, sat in an uncomfortable chair, the pain never ceasing to throb.