Motor Mouth

And in a flash, I’m eating his scream. I’m attached. My diamonds tear his pink flesh.

He fights back, trying to loosen my grip. But my reticulating mandible holds. The pistons in my bones grind down, crushing the bridge of his nose. My masticating gears switch to Devour and I begin gnawing my way through.

His legs flail, emptying his pockets of loose bullets. My hybrid saliva takes effect and he stills. I pull back and admire his glazing smoky eyes; “Your eyes are beautiful. They’re grapes I must peel to wet my mouth”.

His skull cracks.

As I trace his brow with my incisors, I hit marrow. I pull back and continue my taunt: “And then I’m moving on to your warm brains. Your sinus mucous will be my gravy and your skull, my boat".

I stare into his sockets, relishing his terror. As I gear up to punch through and harvest his brainstem, his rotting glare forms one final expression; “You Bitch!”.

With floss in my teeth, I open the tavern door and let my babies in to dine on my regurgitated and steaming snack.

View this story's 4 comments.