Cаnnibal ~ Рhan

Ninє

~Dan's POV

The blood covered my cold and frigid hands. It was soothing, the warmness of it bringing feeling back to them. I loved the way it slowly slid down my skin before I licked it clean. I knew I had been here too long, the risk of getting caught was too high for me to stay. The bars were closing now, people would be walking back home, one of them could see me. I panicked at the thought.

I stood up, removing myself from the crouching position I had sustained for almost an hour. My back was aching, my muscles screaming at me like they were complaining. I stretched, hoping to silence them.

The body was already beginning to smell. The stench of the alcohol mixed with his corpse was overwhelming, even for me. I had to do something with him, I had to get rid of him.

I wasn't prepared, I didn't have my bag to take the body with me and I was nowhere near the woods so I couldn't keep my kill in the white room.

I decided that I had to hide him someplace, a place where he wouldn't be found. I looked down at my watch.

1:40 am

I cursed under my breath, I was running out of time and I'd been gone for hours. What will I say to Phil when I get home? He's never known I go out for this long, he'll be concerned.

I shook my head, knowing I needed to fix the first problem I had. I held my breath as I bent down again, still repulsed by the corpse's odour. I had ripped him up more than I planned, but sometimes that happens. I just kind of lose control and overdo it.

His one arm was bent at an impossible angle and the other was nearly torn off, some of it still connected to the man's body. I had taken chunks out of his chest and torso, resulting in a pool of blood. I had eaten most of his legs, but his feet were still intact. I bit off about seven or eight fingers to. They were one of the best parts I found, but I had no idea why.

Knowing the dire state my kill was in, I started looking around for some place to put him. It had to be secluded, someplace where someone would never go, but needed to have the ability to mask the stench.

I ran up the alley, looking around the corner. I whipped my head back, realizing that there were drunk stragglers coming towards me. I was breath heavily, my nerves skyrocketing all throughout my body. I snuck back into the darkness, hoping not to be noticed.

I sighed heavily once they passed by, feeling relieved. I continued my search for a place. After a few minutes I spotted something, it looked large and industrial. I realized that it was an old garbage bin.

"Perfect," I uttered quietly.

I picked up my hammer, whipping the blood off with my coat sleeve. The lid of the bin was locked, so I had to open it with my weapon I'd used not long ago. Once I cracked the lock, I would have to shove him inside and run, the noise would be loud and draw attention. That was the last thing I needed.

I gripped it tightly in my hand, my knuckles turning white. I brought it high above my head and without giving it a second thought, without giving myself a moment to change my mind, I swung down hard using all the force I could muster.

Crack!

It fell to the ground and I flipped open the lid. I nearly passed out from the smell. The body was nothing compared to the rotten scent of the garbage. It reeked like there was a decomposed corpse in there already, just waiting for another to join.

I bend down and grabbed the man, or what was left of him, and hauled it into the bin. I worked fast, getting each piece inside, having to leave nothing out in the open.

I scanned the area quickly, seeing I'd removed all the parts and the blood had washed away.

I ran.

I tossed my hood over my head and just started running. I didn't care if someone saw me, I didn't care of I looked suspicious. I felt sick and anxious and I had to get out. I had to go home. I just wanted to fall asleep and forget the night had ever happened. It just felt wrong, like I had made one mistake after another after another. I hated that I had never felt like that before.

I was always confident in my choices, that I was experienced enough to not slip up. Although lately, I felt doubtful. Not just in my skills, but in my decisions as a killer. It was like my sixth sense was kicking in, telling me that I might get caught. That I was being too sloppy, too lazy with my victims.

Not letting myself get lost in my dangerous thoughts, I just focused on running, on the sound of my feet patting against the pavement and strange sounds of the night around me.

~~~~~~~~

I was relieved that I'd made it home and back to my room. I turned my light on and quickly put the hammer under my bed. I would put it back in our garage in the morning.

All I wanted to do was fall asleep, but I had to cleanup first. I probably looked like a mess. I probably looked like I had just killed somebody. I had to get his blood off my hands.

I shuffled my way over to my bathroom and flicked the switch, letting me see myself. I stared at the face in the mirror, I knew that it was me. It just wasn't recognizable. I gazed down at my hands and clothes, not surprised by the layer of red that covered them.

While yawning, I turned on the sink, letting the water run. I turned the hot water handle all the way, wanting to burn my hands because they were so cold. I first cleaned my face, scrubbing off all the grime and blood from it. I then stuck my hands under the water and rubbed them together. I smiled as I saw all the blood run off my fingers and into the sink. After a few moments, the entire thing was red.

It was just like my white room. The white walls were my canvas and I loved to paint them with my favourite colour. Maybe I even-

Stop.

I heard something. Noise. Fairly close to me. I shut the water off and turned around.

Nothing.

I wasn't imagining things, I did hear it. Cautiously, I stepped out of the bathroom.

And that's when I knew what it was.

"Dan?"

Phil was leaning against my doorframe, looking at me with half open eyes. I froze, not knowing what to do or say. I'd been found out, I couldn't believe it...

Wait, I smelled alcohol again. But, it's not from the guy I'd killed. It was coming from Phil. I looked down and saw my bottle of whiskey in his hand.

It was empty.

Phil wasn't just tipsy, he was completely drunk.