Cannibal Shit Revenge
by Deek Jersey

   The girl was delicious. How could she have been anything else? Young as she was. So full of blood. John killed her last week and thinking about the blood dripping across her innocent wide blue eyes still made him excited. He ate her last night, piece by piece, toe by toe. He ate her tiny pink nipples last.

   John kidnapped her from Gornwall Park, brought her to his house, chained her to the wall in his cellar, and took his time. Slow shallow knife cuts, pull out a nail, break a tooth, small but painful burns in her armpits, forced sodomy, whispered stories of how John would keep her forever, giving her his deepest love, making her like him. Her name was Kihnda and her gag kept her from screaming as he cut off her vaginal lips, eating them in front of her, her short life getting shorter and shorter.

   But as always, John got too rushed, too caught up in what he was doing, and he made a mistake. Kihnda lost too much blood when he tried to cut out her anus and she died. Her death didn’t stop John from enjoying himself, but once death set in things got slightly less interesting. Days passed, his fun dwindled. John got hungry.

   He baked her buttocks, battered and deep fried her fingers, stir-fried her stomach, boiled her brains, and sandwiched her leftovers. Most of the flesh he ate raw off her corpse, bite marks polka-dotted red against the cold white lifeless flesh. He beat the remaining body with a sledgehammer till blood splattered everything and poor little Kihnda was nothing but pasty red mash. Down the drain went poor little Kihnda, bye bye bye.

   John went out. The day was breezy and clear. Summer was the season and children were everywhere, the streets littered with their naïve joy. He always ate the young. Tender. Yes. So tender. Their horror was at times a thing you could almost touch, smell, and yes, taste. Uhmmm. And it tasted good. But it was too soon to take another, you could only harvest so much from one place at one time. The stocks might go bad. The game might get scared away. You had to be careful. Yes.

   So John went home. He looked over the polaroids he’d taken of Kihnda and masturbated. The sun went down and John watched some television. It was nine’ o’clock and John had to shit. John loved to shit. It reminded him of being anally abused as a young boy by his bus driver on the long drive back from school. But he loved it more now, experience had wizened him in the arts of perverse pleasures. And tonight this wasn’t just any shit. Not just any old shit at all. No cornflakes or hotdogs, pizza or potatoes. No. This shit was special. A not so old friend was returning for a visit. Kihnda was coming back, one last time, to play.

   The bathroom was frightening. John liked it that way. Blood stained the walls and clumps of shit patterned over the ickish red like nineteen-seventy’s circa slaughterhouse flower wallpaper. The tile floor was broken, cracked, as if a miniature war had taken place. The tub was black with dirt, layered with cum and blood. Hair mimicked a curly forest across its chipped up surface. John sat down on the seat-less toilet, reminiscing about the german shepard he had drugged, mutilated and raped in that tub.

   John started to squeeze. He felt his anus un-stiffen and a digested brown-snake slither from his ass. Rotting flesh stink rose from between his man-thighs. As if seeking out the decomposing fumes, his right hand moved to his crotch. As if to block the horrid stench, his left hand crept to his face. One hand stroked his penis, the other put fingers in his mouth. Another fecal pulsation broke his flesh barrier and John cried out in high pitched ecstasy. Nothing made a grown man squeal like shitting, jacking-off, and gagging all at once, John thought to himself. He screamed out Kihnda’s name from around his throat buried fingers and a plop echoed from the shit-stained water.

   Pump after pump, gag after gag, shit after shit, John carried on, Kihnda’s name on his heavy breath, her child face glowing in his mind. The smell was terrible, not nearly as nice and sweet as she was in real life, John thought, but just as special in its decay. John came, vomited and shat. He rolled off the toiled, pants down, ass shitty. He laid there for a moment, catching his breath, recalling the taste of her inner arm.

   John got to his knees and looked down at what had become of his darling little girl Kihnda. Well, she was dark brown, almost black in spots, nubs of undigested bone poked up here and there, the smell made his eyes water and his cock started to grow. A clump of long stringy waste floated by a piece of cartilage and Kihnda’s face organized itself in the water’s shitty brew, her wide innocent eyes stared up at him. John dipped his fingers into the bowl and softly caressed a lock of Kihnda’s hair. He dragged his rough fingers across her silk cheeks. A tear dripped from her blue eye.

   "Why did you leave me?" the words were faint on the air but rang loud in his head.

   "You didn’t have to leave me"

   John stroked her hair and ogled her chest as she rose out of the soiled water.

   "We can still be together, we can,… my love" the words grew louder and Kihnda’s sweet voice filled his head, she put her hands on his shoulders and stared him in the eye. "Do you still want me,… still, want to be with me,… my, my love?"

   John nodded, mouthed the word ‘yes’.

   "Then come to me, kiss me, hold me, my love"

   John leaned forward and kissed her. His arms wrapped tight around her, holding her naked body next to his. His lips smacked and slithered across her naked white flesh, pausing to nibble at her chest, lick her belly, and finally down into her crotch. He fingered her anus and licked her vagina. Kiss me, she said, kiss me my love. John pulled himself up her small body, placed his hand behind her neck and placed his lips over hers.

   His hand sank through her neck. It felt soft and lumpy. Like warm thick mud with a little gravel. John pulled back and looked at Kihnda. Three feet of shit rose up from the toilet bowl and formed the body of the small girl. Her hair, her eyes, her neck and shoulders, her beautiful chest and lower belly, even her sweet little ass and cherry clit were all made of thick, muddy brown shit.

   "Come my love, come be with me" beckoned the spectral shit-reincarnation.

   Her lips bit onto his, opened, and began force vomiting shit down his throat. Her fingers dug deep into his flesh and John struggled as Kihnda pulled him down. Into the toilet, into her kind, warm love, where they could be forever. John tried to break free. He didn’t make it. The shit was too strong. His penis still erect, a die-hard pervert to the end, loving every last fucking minute of it, John drowned in his cannibal leavings.

   Years passed, the house turned grey and saggy. It fell.

©2004 Deek Jersey

Deek Jersey is from Bellingham WA, and is 22 years old. He enjoys abusing non-synthetic drugs, playing in a punk rock band (Dolphin), sci-fi and horror, and is also a dedicated frissbee player.