I came across this story snippet as I was going through some old writing, and I was struck by how often cannibalism comes up as a theme in my work. Also, for every completed story, I have perhaps fifty or so partial stories. So it goes.
No picture for this one. I’m not terribly keen on Googling “cannibalism.”
“I’m supposed to care about something, you know,” Ben said as he chewed on a face.
“What if I’m a sociopath?”
“Well,” Donovan observed, “you’re eating a human head. And just because you’re
supposed to do something doesn’t mean you should. Shit, I’m supposed to go
to church, but I don’t. Also, I’m sitting here as you demonstrate you’re a cannibal, so
what does that say about me? I’m supposed to stop you, right? Or at least protest in
Ben sighed. “I’m not really a cannibal. This is processed.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re eating a processed human, which they say tastes like the real deal.”
“You haven’t eaten a real person, right?”
Ben sighed again. “No.” He could have, of course. There was nothing stopping him
from exploring the black market and picking a body. It would be dressed-out and
ready to cook. Instead, he was gnawing on human-flavored gelatin face. What
respectable cannibal would eat a face, anyway? Could you even cook a head and have
the features stay in place? Maybe if you closed the eyelids and simmered it in broth,
Ben reasoned. The facsimile face he was dining on had gooey, sweet-flavored eyeballs.
He imagined the real deal was a bit tougher and more salty.
“So why are you worried you’re a sociopath?” Donovan asked. “I mean, the current
“Because like I said, I don’t care about anything. Not school, not girls, or cars.
Nothing, man. It’s a scary feeling.”
“Which means you’re not a sociopath. Do you think a real sociopath pauses to
reflect on his lack of empathy?”
“Maybe. Like, early in their sociopathy.”
“Have you ever tortured or killed animals?”
“That doesn’t mean anything, Donovan. The mutilation of animals is only one
indicator in a wide variety of cues that might signal someone’s a sociopath.”
“Well, for someone who doesn’t like school, you don’t seem to have a problem
learning. At least about sociopaths.”
Ben shrugged and ate.
Donovan studied the beheaded false corpse before him. Eventually, Ben would have to
remove its clothes, and Donovan didn’t want to be around for that. Ben had
ordered a male corpse, which Donovan guess was better than a female corpse, but he
really wasn’t sure why…