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"Mister Caneball"

Another night, another party.

Nightlife plays a big part in this city; I take part, I 'fit in'. It's what I live for. Even if I am different. I used to hate it. All that goes on in this god forsaken place. Darkened sky forced magicks of evil unto my mind. Now it has gone. Now I am... real.

Each night is of great difference; while not dissimilar, going back would be suicide. To return is to slit my own throat, dark, thick warm gore to spill from the gaping hole in my tainted heart. It does not beat like yours or theirs. It does not beat like a man of light. It beats with a shadow. An everlasting echo shuddering through my body. Ah, the tingle down my spine shall not be forgotten. The perfection in which I lust.

My mind will shake once more. My mind will shake once more.

That has all changed now. The passion I seek cannot be reached. Breaching such a power is not possible anymore. I can simply dream of the wonders I used to know.

What taboo do I speak of?

Simply the power. In the days of my growing hate, my mind cowering behind the monster within, I stopped the nightlife. I squeezed death into the joy. I would have a good time. I would meet up with someone. Glare into their broken eyes. Then what?

I would rip them to pieces. Limb from limb their body rocked. Limb from limb their bones would lock. Limb by limb by limb, they would be torn from themselves. No one knew. No one will. Only I.

I didn't know why I started. To feast upon the blood of my own kind disgusted me, but it was oh so good, that shudder, that feeling, that warmth of power that shot over my body. That taste.

Oh that taste. It was like heaven filling my mouth, giving me something special. Eternity could not contain such a rich taste. Such a unique a rich taste. Such a forbidden taste.

You would fall to knees like I did if you got the chance to sample the beauty.

That's when I started to love. I loved the night like my passion. I loved it like my passion for this... this nirvana. My lip would shake. My spine would fake. Fake the horror. I knew it wrong.. but to me it wasn't. It isn't.

Now I just look at my severed teeth. Remember those days. Recite my passion. And fade away.

Thanks for reading

RiCkOsS

Another night, another party.

Nightlife plays a big part in this city; I take part, I 'fit in'. It's what I live for. Even if I am different. I used to hate it. All that goes on in this god forsaken place. Darkened sky forced magicks of evil unto my mind. Now it has gone. Now I am... real.

Each night is of great difference; while not dissimilar, going back would be suicide. To return is to slit my own throat, dark, thick warm gore to spill from the gaping hole in my tainted heart. It does not beat like yours or theirs. It does not beat like a man of light. It beats with a shadow. An everlasting echo shuddering through my body. Ah, the tingle down my spine shall not be forgotten. The perfection in which I lust.

My mind will shake once more. My mind will shake once more.

That has all changed now. The passion I seek cannot be reached. Breaching such a power is not possible anymore. I can simply dream of the wonders I used to know.

What taboo do I speak of?

Simply the power. In the days of my growing hate, my mind cowering behind the monster within, I stopped the nightlife. I squeezed death into the joy. I would have a good time. I would meet up with someone. Glare into their broken eyes. Then what?

I would rip them to pieces. Limb from limb their body rocked. Limb from limb their bones would lock. Limb by limb by limb, they would be torn from themselves. No one knew. No one will. Only I.

I didn't know why I started. To feast upon the blood of my own kind disgusted me, but it was oh so good, that shudder, that feeling, that warmth of power that shot over my body. That taste.

Oh that taste. It was like heaven filling my mouth, giving me something special. Eternity could not contain such a rich taste. Such a unique a rich taste. Such a forbidden taste.

You would fall to knees like I did if you got the chance to sample the beauty.

That's when I started to love. I loved the night like my passion. I loved it like my passion for this... this nirvana. My lip would shake. My spine would fake. Fake the horror. I knew it wrong.. but to me it wasn't. It isn't.

Now I just look at my severed teeth. Remember those days. Recite my passion. And fade away.

Thanks for reading

RiCkOsS

I liked it, the fact that it was a retired vampire looking back on the "good old days". I had a fair guess of what he was when he spoke of being empty and a longing, and I was confirmed when he spoke of ripping them (his victims) "limb from limb". Overall I though it was an excellent short story and particulary good in the run up to Hallowe'en.

Cheers :-)

He was meant to be a cannibal, hence the name, but either he ate people ;-)

Yes, I had previously written vampire/cannibal but I deleted cannibal when it should have been vampire. :D
Keep up the good story writing anyway.

I read this. Thought it was competently worded for the most part. However, at times it comes dangerously close to poetry, which I despise.

And I assumed cannibal, ratehr than vampire, although I did wonder what the removed teeth reference was in aid of at the end.

It doesn't actually mean teeth, just an inability to do what he used to. Can't think of the word for it, though.

metaphor?

Yes :-D

Mister Caneball is a slightly fanciful name, but I thought it was good, if perhaps a little fleeting: it tip-toed on the surface rather than waded in, but I write these "snapshot" kind of things all the time, so who am I to criticize.

Eating people is so very wrong, unless you're starving to death, of course.