The Cannibal Within

Read The Cannibal Within for Free Online

Book: Read The Cannibal Within for Free Online
Authors: Mark Mirabello
product of a human eggs biologically polluted by transhuman sperm—were loathsome in appearance.
    The least revolting ones had misshapen heads and ice-blue eyes. Soft and fat and evil-looking, they had an extraordinarily thin and translucent skin that was almost transparent. Their shrieks and cries, which were oddly hideous, resembled the squealing of piglets.
    Those with birth defects—some had abnormal growths, some were born without anuses or uteruses—were even more horrifying to behold. I still see these mutants in my nightmares.
    ***
    All the babies—whatever their appearance—had short, sad, pathetic lives. Treated like caged zoo animals—faceless homogenous victims—they resembled sinners in the hands of an angry god.
    Their existence was meaningless—between the screaming at birth and the howling at death—they knew neither joy nor love. In their lives, there was only pain, grief, and madness.
    Some of the babies—the most fortunate ones—were eaten immediately by the monsters. Fresh from the womb—with bacteria-free intestines—they became a sterile and delicious feast.
    Some of the babies—the few females who were not infertile hybrids—were designated as future breeders. These were all predestined for rape.
    Like their mothers before them, the breeders would know the pain and gore of childbirth. Squatting in their own filth— their distended bellies covered with stretch marks, scars, and stitches—their lives would focus on their wombs.
    Most of the babies, however, were fattened for the slaughter. Crowded into undersized cages—deprived of all physical activity—force-fed with milk from brownish, scab-infested teats—they lived two years of misery.
Ultimately they would be seized—beaten to a jelly—and then eaten alive.
    The Horror Of Passing Time
Night passed into day, month into year, and I quickly lost all sense of time. In the words of Yukio Mishima, time ‘dripped away like blood.’
    Treated like an estrogen-injected breeder—a fecund producer of infantile meat for insatiable carnivores—I had to cling to my sanity in this world of menace and terror.
    I was normally kept in absolute darkness—an oppressive blackness seems to have a calming effect on caged humans— and I spent most of my time in tormented sleep.
    At one time I loved sleep—‘when the body sleeps,’ declare the legends, ‘the soul is awake’—but in the realm of the monsters it was different.
    Horrible dreams—lewd and repulsive in nature—constantly afflicted me. Bubbling up from my animal id, I had weirdly erotic visions.
    In some nightmares I saw a bloody vagina. Shamelessly exposed—its lips were thick, upturned, and deformed—it was smeared with fresh honey.
    Thousands of fruit flies—drawn by the honey—swarmed over the slimy vaginal lips. The tickling of the flies—an unpremeditated act of bestiality—caused frightful and delicious orgasms.
In other nightmares, I had visions of diseased phalluses— ribboned with purple lesions—assaulting me without mercy.
    The phalluses were always diminutive in size—as long as a finger and correspondingly thin—but their aggressions were infinite. Erected by my misery, they squirted blood instead of seed.
    The dreams were so real—so graphic—that I began to doubt reality itself. What if life itself is a dream—I thought—but we notice the dream only when we are asleep?
    Even more horrifying, what if I did not exist? I could be a fantasy—a hideous nightmare—the product of some insane mind.
    I cannot remember my birth, so how do I know I was born?
    Eating Filth
Trapped in a steel cage, my health deteriorated. Living with death—pelted by the urine, feces, vomit, and other droppings of the babies caged above me—I was plagued by ulcers, pneumonia, septicemia, and diarrhea.
    I was given regular doses of loathsome drugs—usually through injection. The drugs were not to make me healthy, but to suppress obvious symptoms and keep me alive as a

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