Wrath White - Succulent Prey

In her mind she could stil see the body of the heavyset woman her captor had devoured where it had lain on the floor. The wood where her blood had pooled and coagulated was now bleached lighter than the rest of the floor. Alicia's ears stil rang with the woman's screams, sending shivers up and down her spine. That woman had died in unimaginable pain.

Alicia knew she was going to die next.

No matter how kind the big col ege kid had been to her before he'd left this morning. No matter how he'd tried to reassure her that he would never hurt her that way. The Band-Aids on her nipples said otherwise. She was dead.

Even if he was right about the serial kil er virus, that it was something like the vampire or werewolf curse, Alicia was stil not convinced they could reverse its effects. Especial y not after last night. Joe had consumed both blood and human flesh. If he had not been damned before he was certainly damned now and that meant Alicia was fucked right along with him. Stil, as long as he believed he could cure himself there was hope for her to escape.

Her wrists were getting infected where her skin had abraded from her daily attempts to wrestle free of the restraints. They would have time to heal now, though. Alicia had given up on trying to break free. She laid her head down on the pil ow and dreamt about her father. In her dreams he came to her, wiped the blood from her stomach, undid her restraints and told her he loved her and forgave her. He looked younger now, though, stronger, as if death had restored his youth. He wiped the tears from her face and kissed her forehead.

Then he began to comb her hair. She couldn't remember her father ever being this gentle and nurturing in life. He looked so different now. He looked…

Just like Superman.

After leasing the Ford cargo van for their trip, Joe had gone back to the apartment to get Alicia ready to travel. He'd found her in a deep sleep, mumbling to herself. She'd woken up just as he'd started to dress her.

"Joe! I thought… I had a dream that my dad was here."

"You looked so happy."

"I was."

Joe knew what she meant. She had been happy until she'd woken up to find herself stil locked in an apartment with a murderer.

"We're going on a trip."

"We're going after that child kil er, aren't we?"

"Yes. We're going to Washington."

The big muscular col ege kid hadn't been to an SAA meeting in almost a week. And Frank hadn't seen

SuperPredator online lately either. His ass stil hadn't healed from his last encounter with the gorgeous cannibal.

Stil, al he could think about was another private moment with the clean-cut muscle-bound man with the hard blue eyes that scurried over every inch of you as he spoke as if sizing you for the kil, eyes that seemed to rip their way inside and invade every inch of you. He wanted him again, but he feared what another session with the SuperPredator might do to him.

He'd had a hard time explaining his wounds at the emergency ward. Luckily he was such a regular that they had barely listened to a word he said. They just cal ed for a psychiatrist to visit with him while they bandaged up his mutilated ass. Once he'd managed to convince the bored psychiatrist that he wasn't suicidal or delusional, he'd been released with a prescription for painkil ers and a recommendation to seek professional help. Frank had smiled warmly and left. He'd masturbated to the memory of the pain as he drove himself home, nearly crossing the yel ow line into oncoming traffic when he recal ed Joe's reaction as he slurped down the sliver of flesh sawed from Frank's buttocks.

It had shocked him to see the man ejaculate by merely tasting a smal morsel of his flesh. He'd never felt so loved as he had seeing the pleasure his meat had brought to the big carnivore.

The hunger that sprang into the man's eyes after the orgasm subsided had been terrifying but extremely erotic. He wanted to give more of himself to Joe, to see the predator's eyes rol up in his head and his body shudder as the ecstasy of blood and meat erupted from him. It had been obvious that the man had wanted more of Frank… much more, perhaps more than Frank could survive. Stil, Frank was wil ing to risk it. He hadn't been able to think of anything else since he'd run in terror from Joe's rundown apartment building.

Reading the cannibal fantasies on the

Long Pig site had almost convinced him it was worth losing his life for the experience of being consumed by such a powerful predator, to bind his flesh forever with that beautiful man. Final y, Frank couldn't resist any longer and decided to go visit his SuperPredator again.

He'd had more than a few whiskey sours when he walked brazenly up to the front door of the rundown building and rang the bel to the apartment where Joe was supposed to live. He couldn't imagine that anyone real y lived in such a place though, especial y not the beautiful wel groomed Clark Kent look-alike. But this was where he'd met him for their little rendezvous just a few nights before. He rang the doorbel a few more times without an answer. Then he pushed on the front door and it swung open easily, revealing the same dusty old lobby where he and Joe had exchanged flesh and blood for sweat and semen. It was empty and looked like it had been that way since before Frank was born.

"Hel o?" Frank cal ed out softly and heard only his voice echoing through the dank stagnant air. The place smel ed like a damp moldy basement.

Frank crept cautiously inside and closed the door behind him. The oppressive darkness that swooped in on him, choking al light from the room, panicked him. Without the glare of the streetlights outside it was total blackness. A chil of dread scurried over Frank's flesh, raising goose bumps, as the old building seemed to swal ow him in one great gulp. Frank quickly swung the front door open again to let a little light in. Even with the faint light creeping in from the street, Frank had a difficult time navigating his way to the stairs. There was no way he was going to risk climbing into the building's rickety old elevator and getting stuck inside. From the way this place looked it would be decades before anyone found him.

He remembered what apartment Joe had told him to ring and began making his way up the stairs toward it. The alcohol coursing through his bloodstream had made him a little braver than normal, along with the fact that he was as much addicted to the adrenaline rush of fear and pain as he was to that of orgasm. Stil, he jumped at every sound as he crept his way up the darkened stairway toward the apartment on the fifth floor.

"Joe! Joe, are you up there?" He was cal ing out mostly for the reassurance of hearing his own voice echo back at him, the one familiar sound in this tomb of squeaking stairs and rats. When he reached the fifth floor he stuck his head out and was assaulted by the odor of urine, fecal matter, and decay. Again he wondered if anyone but a few stray cats, some rats, and perhaps a dog or two, lived in this place. He could see some of the hippies who wandered up and down Haight Street begging for change and reeking of marijuana and patchouli oil living in a place like this, but Joe would have been horribly out of place. Perhaps this was just the place where he took his lovers (To murder and eat? What was that sickening smel?) to fuck.

Frank nearly ran down the hal to room

510. He skidded to a stop just outside the room in which his dream lover was supposed to reside, surprised to find the door open.

"Joe? Are you in there?"

There was no response except for a loud thump from somewhere deeper inside the dingy sparselyfurnished apartment.

Frank crept in and surveyed the apartment. It looked like a jail cel. There was only one lamp, a smal eighteeninch television and VCR atop a milk crate, two folding chairs, a table, and the paintings.