Cаnnibal ~ Рhan

Eightєєn

~Dan's POV

My back hit the wall before I leaned forward, clutching my legs painfully close to my chest and replaying the motion like a broken record. The tears had dried and stained my cheeks. I couldn't bring myself to stop them from trailing down my face. I didn't want to pretend they weren't there. That all of that wasn't just my reality.

I curled into the isolated corner of my room. No light was around me except for the thin silver rays that sneaked through the blinds. It glistened off my sweat that had beaded all over my skin. It seeped through my thin boxers that I had striped down into. I felt so exposed, I had to punish myself. I wanted nothing more than to wrap myself in layers and hide, but I refused to obey my cowardly desire.

I let go of my legs and ran a clammy hand across my forehead, feeling close to a heat stroke. My body was boiling from the inside. I had no idea how I was reacting. I stared blankly at the empty wall, my mouth sealed shut in a straight line. It was incomprehensible,
I felt so hollow.

He knew, Phil saw it. What I had done.

I knew his fight or flight reaction would kick in. I could tell from his face. Absolute complete terror was plastered on him, my eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. It was like someone had reached into my chest and tore my heart in two. All I could manage was an attempt to say his name. To remind him in that moment that it was still me. I croaked, it came out wrong. It was pathetic.

I felt like I blacked out after that. I was just suddenly running faster than I had in years, I was going after him. Phil was getting away from me, he feared me. It was what I had dreaded ever since the first time I had made him smile. The second it was clear that he was important.

I didn't stop. He didn't either. The sound of his jagged breathing told me where he was. He had made it back to the house before I could catch up. I watched as I sprinted out of the woods Phil closing the door behind him and disappearing. I continued to follow, knowing he wouldn't stop and lock doors. I continued to shout his name. It made no difference. I wasted my breath.

It had been 3 hours since then. Since he locked himself in his room. Refusing to see me. Speak a single syllable about the horror he'd seen. I gripped my hair tight between my knuckles and pulled, everything was driving me mad. We were fucked up because of me. My addiction. My cannibalism.

I groaned as I continued to sit alone and in pain. It hurt in and outside of my body. I wanted it to evaporate as quickly as it had hit me in those woods. When I realized the love of my life found me standing in a puddle of the blood I had spilled. Just like all those times before.

My flame was extinguished. Everything went blurry. My eyelids began to droop, signalling what I needed. The only escape I had to remove me from my shame and disgust. I didn't care that it was only temporary. I wanted whatever I could get to take me away...

~~~~~~~~

It was getting louder. That soft pounding. It was so repetitive, I tried to find it. My brief sleep drained away as I was able to understand what was happening. Someone was knocking at my door. I restrained myself from the gasp that threatened to spill out from my lips. He was here.

"Phil?" I asked, my voice filled with hope and shock. The knocking stopped. Silence. He was waiting for me to say it.

"Come in." Those two words took so much effort. It made this situation and conversation seem completely impossible. The opening of the door was followed by him standing there for several seconds. He wanted to turn back. I hoped to god he didn't but wished he might simultaneously.

He advanced achingly slow, like he was trying to intentionally torture me. I leaned back and turned on the soft light of my lamp. His expression was unreadable. Unlike how it was in the forest. I had no way of knowing which was worse. I watched from the corner of my eye as he hesitantly sat down at the edge of my bed. Like it would cause him pain if he did. There was a stab in my heart that refused to be unrecognized.

I scooted farther away from him, not wanting to make him scream and run away. Distance was noticeable in the moment. So was the tension. It was so thick nothing could've been able to cut through it. I waited for him to be the first to speak. I had to respond to whatever he chose to say.

Minutes passed and still nothing. I almost whispered something to break the quiet, but that's when Phil chose to speak. One word.

"Why?"

Now it was my turn to create silence. He couldn't bring himself to look at me. I wasn't surprised. I would be doing the same thing. Or worse. It was evident that this was the moment that I couldn't lie any longer. I had no choice. Honesty was my worst enemy, I needed to confront it. The guilt I had balled up and tucked away would finally be released. I was ready.

I told him my story. What my childhood really was, the terrible urges, the night when everything switched. I couldn't bring my eyes away from my hands that were knotted together in my lap as I continued. The downward spiral into insanity and loneliness and lies. A second life revolved around blood. I revealed everything.

"I'm a cannibal." I couldn't hide it anymore. It was the truth. There was still one more part to say. The thing that was more important than everything I had done.

"I still love you. It's real. I love you so much," I admitted. I breathed out shakily. It was over on my part. I plead my case. Now I waited.

His features had evolved during my story. They had been firm, then tense and now had softened. He looked drained, I'm sure I looked the same, if not shittier. He swiftly stood up, connecting his hands together at the back of his neck as he began to pace slightly around my darkened room. The gears where turning inside his brain, I was aware of the look. The one where he's thinking so hard it's as if steam is coming out of his ears.

This lasted a long time. I had to be patient. My whole life was likely to be ruined once he opened his mouth. I simply began to stare at him, memorizing. I had to know the details of his face, remember the curve in his back and the glint in his eyes. It may be the last time I saw it.

What was left of my heart skipped a beat when Phil moved and sat back down on the bed. He was raking his fingertips through his short hair before he decided to talk. I held my breath. This was it.

"I know you aren't a monster Dan. You may have been a killer, but you made those mistakes for what you thought were the right reasons. You wanted to stop those men and women from harming more people. You're not coldblooded. Even though you lied to me. I can tell you are not evil. Not as evil as you believe you are."

For the first time I raised my sullen face to see his familiar one. He wore a twinge of anger, but it was overridden by his smile. My life wasn't ruined. He wasn't leaving me. I still had him. But, I didn't understand.

I asked what made him see I wasn't a monster. What kept him from getting as far away from me as he possibly could. He sighed inwardly, sad that I couldn't see it for myself. He turned himself fully towards me. The eye contact made me wary and unsure of what was to become of his reason.

I blinked repeatedly as I heard him explain, "I knew because a real monster couldn't be capable of feeling that. Love. Meaning something like that. It's the only thing that matters... Do you mean it?" He asked surely.

The sides of mouth twitched. They turned up as I answered.

" I do.."

-Only 2 chapters left ✨✨