MicroHorror

He sat in his cell. He was meditating. Should he do it or not? Today was the last day he had before he died in the chair. He did not know whether to do it or not. It was not assured that his cellmate was still going to be sleeping when he did it. He hadn’t done it since he was incarcerated. In fact doing what he was about to do was the reason he was incarcerated. He decided to do it. He did not consciously make the decision. It was made subconsciously just as a predator decides to kill prey.

He climbed onto his roommate’s bunk. He straddled him in a six-point position. He was so ready to do it. He needed to do this. He had to quench the urge. He leaned forward and tore off his cellmate’s face. He savored the taste of blood in his mouth. He loved the texture of the flesh. He swallowed and took another bite. By this time, his cellmate had woken up and was screaming. The guard on duty heard the scream and briskly walked to the cell, gun cocked and finger on the trigger. He saw the man on top of his roommate. Blood was everywhere. The white sheets were now a deep crimson. The orange jumpsuit was covered in blood all over the front. The cellmate was drowned in his own blood already and his scream was now no more than a gurgle and eventually stopped, along with his life. All the while the bewildered guard stood at the bars and watched the cannibal eat. When he shook himself out of the trance, he aimed at the cannibal through the bars with trembling hands and put the cannibal to death a day early. He looked at his watch. He would have to report the time of death.