Fucked up phanfics

The Mincemeat Fic

Dan says Phil. PLEASE DON'T READ WHILE EATING OR WITHOUT A STRONG STOMACH. Contains cannibalism.

__________________chapter 1

Phil was in a vulnerable position, but there was no need for him to panic just yet.

Anyone who saw what was going on right now would get the wrong idea completely, but it was for a video. Atleast, it was this time.

Dan gently grazed the knife against Phil's forehead. "Your skin's gonna taste good," he said menacingly.

Phil mumbled loudly, attempting to sound panicked.

Dan turned the camera off and began to untie him, smiling at him. "See?" he said. "You ought to trust me, Phil. I wouldn't hurt you, I promise. It was just a scene for a video."

"What's the video even about?" Phil asked, after taking the gag off.

"It's kind of a shitpost about befriending Internet stars. Pretty much how I met you."

"But why did you tie me up?" Phil asked, oblivious to what was to come. "And what was with the knife?"

Dan giggled. "It's just a joke, Phil."

Dan couldn't stop thinking about it. His own words echoed through his ears day after day. Your skin's gonna taste good.

Surely it wasn't only Phil's skin that tasted good. Why would he waste that juicy flesh beneath the crispy surface? It was just a shame that Phil was really slim. Dan liked a little more fat on his meat.

He might not even be worth it, Dan thought. He'll probably be really grisly. I should find someone fatter.

He had sampled Phil's skin before, but that was a one-off. It was so crispy, so salty, so delightful. It was like eating French fries.

He had told Phil that the whole thing was just a joke, that it was just for a funny scene in a video. That had been a huge lie.

Dan quickly pulled out the box from beneath his bed as his mind raced with excitement at the thought of what was in store for him during the next few days. It seemed as though his kit was pretty much complete. He had the jug to collect the blood, the scalpel, the knife and the saw. He wasn't wasting any scraps.

But he needed a sedative. He wasn't going to be able to collect the blood if Phil was screaming and flailing in a panic. Maybe alcohol. Atleast if he was really drunk, that would slow his reactions down, buying him time to restrict movement of his arms to make it easier to begin the process.

He returned the cutting kit back to where it was, safely hidden away. He was currently at Phil's house while his parents were away for a few weeks and hiding the kit under the bed he was sleeping in was risky, but it wasn't like he had many other places to keep it.

Things seemed to be going smoothly.

They had been out with friends, and when they returned back to the house in a taxi, it was incredibly hard getting Phil to walk through the door without waking up the neighbours in the process.

Dan tugged on Phil's arm. "Come on," he groaned. Phil was completely out of it.

He stumbled through the doorway and Dan hoisted him up onto the sofa. He was barely conscious; completely hammered.

While Phil was slouched on the sofa and blissfully unaware, Dan ran to fetch the kit he had prepared. He had all the tools and straps, but he did need containers and clingfilm for storage, so he quickly brought those as well.

He began with the arms. Even while drunk, Phil's entire body was so beautiful. So tender, and soft, and succulent. Delectable. The tying up was the easy part. It was the next part that was going to be a challenge, although there was always the option of a gag to stop him being so goddamn loud.

He was fully restrained now. Dan smiled to himself, the adrenaline soaring through his blood and making his heart race as he slowly picked up the large knife. He pressed his fingers against Phil's neck to find the exact spot of his carotid arteries. He went slow at first, pressing the knife firmly into the crease of his neck, then suddenly jabbed it in with a sickly thrunch kind of sound. It sounded watery, like stabbing a watermelon.

Phil gasped and began to gag, confused and in tremendous pain as the blood poured from his severed artery. Dan quickly grabbed the jug and pushed his fingers against the skin below the stab wound, causing the blood to spurt out more horizontally and then fall into the jug, building up at an alarming rate.

As more and more of the blood was drained from his body, Phil became more and more lifeless. His cries of pain became fainter and weaker as the neurones in his brain began to die from the lack of blood supply. Dan smiled, thrilled that his plan was working.

It took a while, but Phil was finally completely unconscious. Dan wasn't quite sure if he was actually dead or not, but that didn't matter. He set down the heavy, full jug and set to work.

He untied Phil and pulled him down onto the floor, laying on his back. Despite losing a few pints of blood, he was still warm, and anyone who saw him right now would just assume he was asleep.

He stripped him of his clothes, quickly tossing them aside as if he was a wild animal, desperate to gorge himself on his next meal.