A Meal For A Psychopath
When it's pitch black outside and you hear a scream that would make your blood run cold, you know that a madman has caught his prey. You know that he will silence his dinner and take it home to prepare it properly in his kitchen. He will skin and chop, occasionally getting that addicting, warm, crimson liquid splattered on his face, only to lick it off. When he's done butchering and gutting he'll begin to season and spice the metallic tasting meat. Once the flesh is seasoned to his liking, preferably still juicy so he can satisfy his bloodlust, he'll devour it without any remorse. How would you know all this? Well you are a psychopath yourself after all.
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A meal for a psychopath
TerrorA purrfect story furr all my creepy kittens! (EDIT!: this is an old story the new version has more detail and... stuff)
