Weird Oneshots

Pancake Cannibalism (Joshler)

"Josh, baby, come here." Tyler cooed from the living room couch. It was Sunday, a suicide day. It was another gray day in Columbus, Ohio. Josh entered the room and sat next to his boyfriend. Tyler grabbed Josh and pulled him close. The two snuggled on the couch as they watched Spongebob on the television. Rain started to fall against the window, tapping gently. Tyler loved the sound of the rain, especially on Sundays. Josh had spent a hard day at work, serving tables all morning and afternoon at Chili's. He fell asleep in his boyfriend's arms in a matter of minutes. Tyler felt Josh slowly melt into a dream world, his body relaxing and his breathing becoming shallow.

Once Josh was fast asleep, Tyler slipped away from the couch and went to the bathroom. He shut the door and leaned into the mirror. He studied his face for a while. He found that when he looked in the mirror, he didn't like what he saw. Many people found him attractive, but Tyler just didn't see it. As he peered into his own gaze, he saw a failure. He wasn't some legendary musician with talent. He was just a lost boy that didn't know how to cope in the world. Though he had Josh, Tyler felt alone. A voice in his head began to whisper to him.

"You're worthless, Tyler."
"You can't impress anyone."
"You don't matter."
"You're better off dead. You can't change the world, don't bother putting yourself out there."
"You're still worthless."
"You're just a depressed piece of shit."

He didn't notice it, but he began to cry. He rolled up his sleeves past his elbows. His clean wrists taunted him. Sighing deeply, he opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed his blade. He stood over the sink and pressed the cold metal to his skin, dragging it from one side to the other.

That's when he noticed something different. Instead of blood, a brown sticky liquid flowed out. Syrup.

Tyler gasped. He knew how this happened. He had a dream that a pancake bit him when he was sleeping last night, and when he awoke this morning, he had a bite mark on his neck. At that moment he knew he hadn't dreamed about the rouge pancake, but he had actually experienced it. Just to be sure that it was syrup, Tyler lifted his arm to his lips and he licked the substance. Yup, it was syrup. Tyler rolled down his sleeve and left the bathroom. He knew what he had to do. He walked to the kitchen and took out a machete.

"I'm sorry Joshy." Tyler mumbled. He raised the long knife and brought it down with force. The knife pierced his now dead boyfriend's neck. Tyler pulled the knife out. He sliced a piece of Josh's flesh the way you'd cut a bit of butter off a butter block. He raised the flesh to his lips and put it inside his mouth. Josh's baby soft skin wasn't chewy, but it tasted like pancakes. That's how Tyler knew that what he was doing was right. By this verification, he knew he was following the right steps.

This Sunday would be the final suicide day.

Tyler finished severing Josh's head from the neck and left the head on the couch. He carried the body to the kitchen counter along with his machete. First was the limbs. Tyler started up four frying pans on the stove, one on each burner and one for each limb.
He didn't think he'd need a cutting board, the counter was good enough for him. Tyler started with the fingers, dicing up the man he loved dearly. Regret started to creep up Tyler's spine, engulfing him in a blanket of sadness and remorse. Josh had loved and trusted Tyler, and Tyler took advantage of that. He brushed the feeling away. Feeling would distract him from what he felt he had to do, and he could not put aside his mission. As he dismissed his thoughts, he finished chopping the first arm. Tyler gathered the meat and threw it in one of the pans, veins skewed out of the meet. Blood was everywhere, the stench was thick and so was the sea of blood that covered the counter and dropped onto the floor. Tyler's white sweater honestly looked like an overused tampon, but that didn't matter.

Fifteen minutes later, and Tyler had finished cutting the limbs and only had Josh's toned torso and penile region left. But the meat from his limbs was much more than Tyler had planned, so he wrapped the body in Saran Wrap and stored it in the fridge. Balancing four pans and trying not to burn the food was challenging, but Tyler accepted challenge the way a child would graciously accept an extra cookie for dessert. The meat was soon finished cooking and Tyler was ready. He planned to eat the left arm and surround the dining room table with the remainder of the cooked meat for good measure. Tyler grabbed a plate and set the table, ready to taste what he deserved.

Sitting at the table, Tyler held his machete. Josh's flesh tasted wonderful, but cooking it made it too dry. Tyler raised his sleeve once more and cut himself, making deep lacerations that would kill him. He was aware of what he was doing, and that feeling of remorse was long gone. That feeling was replaced with pleasure. His syrup dripped lazily out of his arm, drowning Josh's flesh. As Tyler ate, he became increasingly lightheaded. His vision became blurred, his senses were fading. With the little time he had left, Tyler wrote two words on the table in his syrup.

"PANCAKE CANNIBALISM"

The police found the murder-suicide scene a week later.