Three nights ago Johnny had looked to the worn out photograph on his night stand in it's frame in the dim lighting. He couldn't remember why he insisted on keeping it... it was a very sour reminder of a time that drove Johnny to a point of desperation, a place he hated to visit time and time again. This is why he kept it down in the first place. It often pained him to look into the face of the little girl in the picture. Her eyes were pathetically disappointed, she looked terribly afraid of the man looming over her back with his hands clasped tightly on her scrawny little girl shoulders. Farther from the two, a young Johnny stood. At that young age of eleven, he already looked like the man he was bound to be. His young features were marred by bad experiences, hard farm work had taken it's toll on the boys face. There was a yellowing bruise glaring on his right cheek bone, and his eyes were solemn. It was all too clear what was happening in this family. Behind the trio was the ramshackle three story house that kept them for eleven years of their life. This place never looked like a home as far as Johnny could remember. There had been good times, for sure. Him and his sister had spent every waking moment together. It had been innocent and good, and he had loved her with every fibre of his being, so much it ached to think about from time to time.
Johnny could remember all too well the day it had happened, and the days leading up to the final act of his sisters and head masters life. The young boy was accustomed to working excessively hard for a twelve year old. He spent long days cutting wood, cleaning stables, fixing parts and hauling equipment. The heavy labour made him an impossibly strong boy, already ropey with muscle, quite tall for his age and hitting puberty relatively early. His sister did most of the cooking and house work for their father. She would spend just as long as Johnny would in cleaning, doing house hold chores. Her fingers were calloused and afflicted with dry rashes from the harsh soaps she had to use to clean the blood from the floor boards. Johnny had always had bad feelings about this, even worse feelings about how she winced at night in her sleep. Her demeanor had changed over the months of her growing. She was a beautiful red head with long legs and budding breasts, growing into a woman and awfully fast. But she hid her growing body constantly with baggy brown dresses, and Johnny was noticing more and more how she clung to him before he would go to work out in the fields. She would pull at his clothes, kiss his cheeks and try to cuddle him as long as she possibly could, making it that much harder for her brother to go to work. He had never thought to question why this was, he was far too young to know how victims of abuse behaved. When she did this his heart would swell with reverent love for the little girl, at this point in his life he didn't identify it with pre-pubescent romance, but this is what it had been. If only he had seen it coming, he may have been able to take her away before it was too late.
It had been a glaringly hot June day when it happened. The sun was ruthless, beating down on the bare and sun burned back of the young man as he chopped cords of timber. His muscles ached and rolled under the skin, his dark hair hanging in lank strands around his face and dripping with sweat. Dark eyes were focused to a point of insanity, right up to the point he thought he had heard the high pitched shriek of horror and anguish from the second floor window of the dingy house. It had taken a moment to register, and he stopped the hatchet high above his head in a sudden jerk. He straightened quickly and snapped his vision to the upper right window of the second floor, the glass like cruel and dusty eyes of an unforgiving and half dead tyrant. Johnny stared for a moment, hearing nothing but the muffled clucks of chickens now. His heart felt as though it had been thrown from his chest and into his mouth.. something was terribly wrong, and he was afraid to go look. It had been Fera who screamed, and it was her who still making those strange and whining choked cries. He dropped the axe and bounded for the door of the house, his arms and legs pumping ferociously. "FERA!! FERA I'M COMING!!" he had screamed into the hot day.
The door was opened so hard it slammed against the outside wall and back to it's closed position as Johnny disappeared inside. It was humid in the house, and the smell of cleaning solution permeated. Hard and fast footfalls punctuated the silence as he drew up and up to second floor where his and her bedroom was, as well as the head masters study. He had checked there bedroom, no such luck. It was empty, minus there single bed and a few of her dolls lying around, half naked and looking decidedly ominous. He stumbled out and into the washroom.. she wasn't in here either. His eyes darted madly as he pounded down the hallway to the big wooden double doors of the headmasters study. He came to a dead stop in his tracks, his hands hitting the doors from the momentum in which he ran. He stood quietly for a second, panting hard. Fear gripped him hard, made his eyes water.. she had never screamed like that, never in his entire life had he heard such an awful noise. He pressed his naked shoulder to the door and closed his sweaty palms around the glass door knob. "Fera..? Fera are you okay?" he asked uselessly from behind the door. No answer, just something that sounded like panting.
"You go downstairs boy!! never you mind!!" said the voice behind the door. The head master had a whispery and nasally voice, normally sounded easy and breezy. But his tone had been punctuated by gasps, he sounded as though he had just finished doing some kind of hard work. If the boy hadn't been terrified in the minutes leading up to this point, he was absolutely petrified by now. There was something horribly wrong, something that would change everything, and this knowledge was all too painful. He couldn't open the door.. there was no way, his body just wouldn't allow him. Dark brown eyes squeezed shut, shoulders went rigid as a small whine erupted forth from the kids throat. "I'm coming in! if you hurt her.." he said, his voice on the verge of sobbing. He was only twelve, what kind of bull shit was this? what the hell was going on here? He opened the door with what felt like a strangers body, a strangers hand turning the knob and swinging the door open. There was a roar of disapproval and the sound of footsteps fumbling. Johnny turned the corner and opened his eyes to see what beheld him.
Fera was sprawled out on the floor. Her legs and arms were held out at her sides, making a star shape with her young girls body. Her dress was hiked up to her stomach. Her underwear was stretched out around her spread ankles, and she was looking at him--oh god, she was looking right at him. Her vibrant green eyes looked dusty, pleading... terrified. Johnny could only stare with bulging eyes, his jaw slackened. His heart pounded in his throat, he could feel it in his temples. His hands clenched into fists and the fingers worked tight, his knuckles turning a bright and unforgiving white. He couldn't scream yet, his voice had taken a leave of absence and all he could do was choke. There were red lines around her neck, and blood in the corner of her mouth. Her eyes were bright red around the green irises. Dark brown eyes crept from her pointed toes and across the floor. The head master stood above her, bent at the waist. His face was squinched with fury, his mouth working. He was yelling and flailing his arms, but Johnny could not hear him. All he could focus on was the open fork of the mans pants. His thing was out, and it was up high. A whooshing burst of air filled Johnnys lungs and the scream was finally released. He saw red behind his eyes, there was no stopping the onslaught of boiling rage. This man had done something terrible, something completely unspeakable to Fera, and he was going to pay with his life.
Johnny had blacked out at this point. He would hardly remember doing what he did next, and this was for the best. He had lunged with break neck force at his head masters middle, tackling him to the ground in a brutal clatter of bones. There was a continuous scream as Johnny pinned him. The head master had looked at him with eyes like saucers. He was fighting the boy, ramming the pre-teens thick skull with his fists but the kid never let up, not even for a second. Every time the pervert would lift his arms they would be forced back to his sides, hard enough for the bone to sting. The older sibling was very heavy, and the head master was old. He was bound to lose. The last thing the man saw was the gaping maw of teeth he had filed himself, when Johnny was only beginning to grow them. A life of secrets and indulgence flashed before his eyes. There was a meaty tearing as his throat was ravaged. He had bled out in great dark red spurts, choking and clawing at the back of the young Cannibals head, pulling sweat wettened chunks of hair from the kids darkened locks. High pitched and ruthless growls punctuated the wet tear noises as the head masters throat was eaten. Johnny could even recollect the taste of the blood, later in the years and possibly for the rest of his life. This was a coming of age moment for him, a time where Johnny went from a relatively complacent and content child to the hulking and defiant brute of today. Consuming the head master had been an accomplishment, the ultimate act of revenge for what he had done to the only girl he ever knew, the only one he could ever love, the only one who could ever really love him in return.
The headmaster was now a shell of a man, his throat burst open like a gruesome and mutilated cherry pie. Red blood glared in the flourescents and glittered. Johnny had eaten him from the throat right up to the forehead. The mans facial features were mash, there was nothing left to salvage here. Johnny now sat propped and straddled on the mans stomach, panting heavy, sobbing and covered in blood from the chin down. His hair stuck to the sides of his big jaws in clots. The pain was unavoidable, he felt heart break for the first time in his life and he would have done anything to make it stop. It physically hurt to breathe, and he dreaded to look over his shoulder. He wanted to see her face, looking at him in fear, but a LIVE fear. They could run away together, find a new home.. eat, play, grow up.. couldn't they? couldn't he have that?
The Cannibalistic lad looked over his shoulder on a neck made of concrete, his eyes glittering with a palpable anguish. He met eyes with her ankles, the underwear. He began to wail and claw at his face, collecting more blood under his finger nails, painting his visage a ruthless blood red. He crawled off the head master on stiff joint and went on all fours to Fera's side. He pulled her underwear back up to there rightful place, tears making clean tracks in the blood caked on his cheeks. He took her in his arms gently, with care.. he didn't want to hurt her, she already looked like she was in so much pain. His strong boys arms wrapped around her rib cage, her arms hanging limply over his biceps. He buried his bloodied face in her red hair and inhaled deeply. He whined like a wounded puppy, murmuring her name. Years of her smile flashed before his eyes. He could see her when she was five, her in her play suit splashing around in puddles, smiling her pointed smile at him like a girl in love. Her features had become more defined now, and there was a beautiful woman growing under her fair skin. "Fera.. Fera.... Fera Pleeeaaase!!" he begged, squeezing her tight against his form. His hands tangled into her hair.. she was warm still, if it weren't for the lack of a heart beat or the rise and fall of breathing lungs, she could have been mistaken to be alive.. but then of course, her eyes. The whites were swimming with red. She had been strangled and good. He pressed kisses to her cheekbones, forehead, chin, lips until he couldn't do it anymore. It took a very long time for him to let go of her. He lied beside her for quite a while. How long, he couldn't remember. But the whole time, he could only come to grips with the fact that she was gone for good. His sister was dead. Wailing dispersed into sad sniffles and sobbing as he came to this slow realization. Crying was exhausting him, and he was just so god damn tired...
The boy could not.. would not, let go of her. It was unfair.. if he could trade every waking hour he spent doing farm work to spend with her, to play with her (even though sometimes he really hated watching her play tea party, silly baby games they had been) and happily. He would chase her around the house, pretending to be a monster going to eat her up for hours and hours and hours, tirelessly, if it meant that he could have had her just a little while longer. His hands caressed her smooth cheek, growing ever cooler. He looked to the dirty window... it was night time already. He choked back another cry and shut his eyes tightly as he painfully pulled himself into a sitting position. In his childs mind, the next thing to do felt very reasonable. Made sense, even. He could never just leave her here with that fucking bastard, lying in a mess on the floor not too far away. Johnny looked glumly down at her face for one last time before pulling her up into his arms again.. she was getting very heavy. He held her under the arm pits and nuzzled her chest lovingly.He imagined her hand would rest on the back of his neck. "I love you, Fera... I always will.. I'll never love anybody like I love you" he said reverently. This sound was undeniably mature. These words weighed tons, and the weight would stay fastened onto his back for the rest of his life.
His mouth pulled at the buttons of her bodice. He didn't undo them all the way, just enough to get at the milky pale skin under her collar bones. His jaw slowly unhinged and he cried as he whipped his head back and into her chest, tearing the flesh away with his pointed teeth. Fera tasted like love, she tasted like his child hood, gone in a single evening. He would keep this with him until the day he died, and he would eat all of her. There would be no part left to rot in this god forsaken and evil house. She would be where she belonged, with him forever and ever. In his childs mind, this was the logic and it made perfect sense. Over the long and back breaking process it took to make her one with him, he whispered to her constantly "I love you", until there was nothing left of her. He slept on that floor for days after. When he awoke he was a man in a childs body