Imagine

The hunters and the hunted

Alex

Alex sat at the dining table, staring into the bright white light of a portable camping lantern. His face, floating above the LED glow, was reflected in the dark window, pale and framed by ash grey wings. Over his shoulder his velvety shadow loomed on the bare white walls. Darkness crept in from the corners, but the light, the light was always ahead. The scent of decay hung in the air, stirred by the shrill cries of a rat. A sharp pain in his pinky finger pulled Alex from the light and its abiding comfort. He looked down at the fluid welling to a pellucid drop on his skin, at the large white rat screaming and squirming on the table, trapped in his tight grip.

Something to take the edge off. He’d bought it at the pet store earlier that day, lying to the teenaged clerk about having a large boa. While he spoke, weaving tales of his fictional pet snake, he had envisioned the clerk’s flesh, pale and withered, and his own belly warm and full. The rodent thrashed and bit again. Alex swallowed hard, then took a deep breath. He opened his mouth wide, his tongue protruding out and down as he gagged, retching as a pointed, hollow proboscis inched its way up his throat and out of his mouth like a second, deadly tongue. Alex’s gaze returned to the light in front of him as the proboscis uncoiled from deep within his stomach, stretching toward the rat. Its sharp point, poking around like an eyeless worm, found the warm body, nosing into and parting its fur. The flesh popped as the proboscis slipped in, drool dripping from Alex’s open mouth. Blood rushed up through the tube, barbs sprang open, ensnaring the creature and preventing escape. Alex unclenched his fingers, pulling his hands off the sticky vinyl tablecloth. Laughter bubbled up with saliva as he watched the rat attempt to scrabble away, tugging furiously on the feeding tube. Before long it faltered, its legs giving out beneath it, and it collapsed on its side, breathing shallowly.

When the rat was dry, the barbs disengaged and the proboscis slipped back out the way it had entered, disappearing once again down Alex’s throat. Coiling in his gut where it would await his next victim.

Alex stood, his lightly furred body bathed in the white lantern light. He shook his wings, letting them vibrate in a soft, silken whisper. Each wing folded forward, flattening against his back and wrapping around his arms, legs, and torso, like a second skin.

The watch on his wrist vibrated and Alex grinned, it was time to get ready for the party. Time for a real meal.