Unsainted

3: Death Is Not The Tragedy, Being Wasted Is

The span of time from night till dawn, was a painful and grueling experience. From the police station Atrox ran for almost an hour without rest, it wasn't until he found a small hunting cabin deep in the woods, he finally stopped. It was occupied; a man and woman sleeping soundly, until Atrox came crashing through the window. 

It was a swift attack, with incredible speed he killed the couple without spilling a single drop of blood, so fast that Atrox almost forgot it had happened.

Atrox was once again jolted awake, but this time he wasent plagued by gruesome nightmares. He instead had his own actions to ponder on. Cautiously he stood up from his fetal position on the floor, the cabin itself was only a single room; with each wall constituting of a different function; sleeping, cooking, storage and a large stone fire place. 

Atrox could remember clearly the previous night, and looked to the still locked door. A tall man in a tight fitting white shirt and blue jeans, laid on the floor. He had died on his stomach but Atrox had snapped his neck and turned his head; one-hundred and eighty degrees. Much closer to the door and even touching it was a short woman, in a white tank top and red shorts. Unlike her partner Atrox had snapped her spine. In eight different places. Each broken section of vertebrae jutted out under her skin and muscle, giving many distinct curves and ridges in her back. 

Guilt overwhelmed Atrox. He cried as his legs shook violently as they threatened to give out from under him. Not one but two more innocent lives had been ended because of him. Atrox got down on his knees, and prayed with his hands in his face.

"Please... forgive me" Atrox cried,

"I couldn't control myself, I didn't want to hurt these people."

Atrox removed his hands and slowly moved towards the man, with a sick pit in his stomach. 

His eyes were bloodshot and wide open, much like his mouth frozen forever in a permanent cry for help. Or mercy. Atrox began to undress the man hoping, that something could make him feel slightly better. Running around the forest or town; naked wasent exactly a dignifying act. He took everything except the man's underwear and put them on, they were quite comfortable and fit Atrox surprisingly well. But it didn't excuse the fact he was wearing a dead man's clothing.

 "What the hell am I going to do?" Atrox whimpered into his hands,

he rubbed his eyes and immediately stopped once he began to recall the copious amounts of blood he had removed from the surgeons. He took his hands away from his eyes and examined them, as he suspected his grizzly claws were crusted in black; oxidized blood, just like his mouth and chest. 

Atrox whimpered and wandered around the cabin looking for something to clean himself with, before it became apparent that the cabin had no plumbing. Excluding a rainwater tank which the pure water inside would be better of saving Atrox from dehydration, instead of polluting it with the blood of others. Instead he used a small dish rag to scrub the bloody crust of him,

"I'm sorry..." Atrox said softly, 

before reciting the hail mary over and over again until he was 'clean'. But he knew he may never be able to clean his conscience.  

Once the blood had been scrapped off, he threw the rag in the sink and moved back to the front door, he wanted to leave the cabin but first he needed to move the bodies. Atrox bent over and grabbed the man's ankles before pulling him away from the door, his head moved slightly taking his gaze from the roof to Atrox. 

He tried not to think about it as he dragged the body away from the door. Soon after Atrox dragged the woman to her deceased partner, and left her on the floor next to him. In a slight panic Atrox stalled about  his next move, before taking a spare blanket from the bed and loosely throwing it onto the bodies. With the bodies half assedly covered he ran to the door, sliding the dead bolt out of the way and pulling the door open. 

He took three steps outside before the sunlight hit his skin, burning it on the spot. Atrox screamed and immediately fell to the ground, he kicked and and squirmed as his skin went from bright red, to blisters in a matter of seconds. He crawled back into the cabin and kicked the door shut, crying in pain. 

Atrox laid on his back breathing heavily, it was unlike any other pain he had felt before. A overwhelmingly intense burning sensation, that pierced his skin and to his muscle. All in a manner of seconds. Atrox raised his arms to examine the damage, it wasent good. His skin, now no longer yellow but a bright sunburn red and covered in hundreds of small blisters.

He gently poked one of the blisters with his finger, to find it wasn't filled with fluid like normal blister. It was a callus, now large sections of his arms, legs and neck were covered in small callus making Atrox look like he was actually covered in scales. The pain soon subsided and Atrox came to his senses, but a cost. 

He sat up and was hit with an intense hunger, his stomach growled angrily at him for food. He stood up with failing strength and walked to the kitchen. Atrox opened the fridge to find it was empty, he looked to the pantry and it was empty of edible products as well. In frustration Atrox slammed the pantry door shut, breaking the handle as it closed. He looked around for something to eat and his stomach growled louder, as he is came to rest on the bodies.

Now he realised why the bodies had been left in such 'pristine'  condition. He simply wasent hungry enough last night, and had left these bodies alone to eat later. 

"Fuck off" Atrox said turning away from the corpses, 

but he still found himself kneeling beside the bodies; taking the blanket of them. Atrox leant forward and grabbed the man's arm and held it just in front of him, his hands began to tremble as the thought of taking a bite came to the front of his mind. 

He opened his mouth and brought the arm closer, before jerking his head back in disgust,

 "why, goig..." he whined through his tears. 

Then in one swift movement he leant into the arm and bit a piece off, it was only a small piece but it was in his mouth. He was eating it. He looked down at the arm, the wound was so small it was almost cute, but despite its size a tremendous amount of blood poured out. Atrox froze with the piece of human flesh at the front of his mouth, acting like a child with vegetables that his parents forced him to eat. 

He poked the flesh with the tip of his tongue and a wave of goosebumps crawled across his skin. His mouth began to water, as his stomach growled in approval of his decisions. Atrox began to chew the flesh with his front teeth, keeping his tongue as far away from it as possible. It was like chewing raw pork, raw bloody pig with a mouth coating layer of metallic blood. Atrox slowly become braver, and moved the flesh to the back of his mouth and onto his tongue. Each sinew of muscle snapped under his molars, it even tasted like pork but Atrox could tell something was off; even if he hadn't taken a bite out of someone.

 Eventually Atrox swallowed it and sat on the floor, contemplating the atrocity he had just committed. Forget murder and desecration of a corpse, this was cannibalism. The flesh landed in the bottom of his empty stomach, and immediately it became the greatest thing in the world. Atrox cried in defeat; tears rolling down his dirty face, as he took another bite, a much larger bite from the arm just above the first. He had no remorse or morals now; his hunger had completely overridden that form of thinking. Consuming was the only thing Atrox was allowed to think about. And he didn't stop until he had striped the arm of flesh and it fell off from the rest of the body at the elbow. And by that, every god that had abandoned him, Atrox enjoyed every last bite of the man.