devotion

disclaimer!!!!! this is fiction and not real (for all the dummies out there)

tw of gore and cannibalism, slight mention of emotional abuse/grooming

my axe tore through her body at such a great force and speed her blood and bone flew in every direction like a popped balloon. a gash so large between her neck and shoulder i could have sworn another head had just been ripped off her. that glossy look in her eyes, staring into my soul. she didn't scream. i heaved my axe out of the wound and she fell to the ground. hot, thick blood leaked into the dried leaves and pine; i kicked her, and she barley moved. i swung my axe anew, mangling her midriff. the gash spat blood at me again. once more, i yanked my tool out of her body and over my shoulder. red dropped from its blade, splashing as it met the floor. i stared down at her face, blood and sweat plastering hair to her forehead and cheeks, her mouth slightly agape. what was she trying to say? i swung again and again, shrapnel more than blood this time. her skull caved into a mush, almost nothing more than a pile of flesh in the prettiest stage of rot; still fresh. but the maggots, they’ll befall her corpse. and that will be when she is most lovable, by the dirt and the insects. they’ll eat her. by god, they will eat her. my axe sat heavy on my shoulder as i stared at her cadaver sprawled over the forest floor. her skin was a sickly pale, her warm undertones leaking out of her right before me. her blood crawled toward my boots in slow motion, and i let it wrap itself around the bottoms. i took a step forward, deeper into it. i pressed my shoe into where her head used to be, and she barley moved. it was lurid. her life seeped into the dirt beneath us as i stood above her, forcing her deeper into it. she was going to hell; i knew that much. and what an unseemly sight was the body she left behind to do so. i wrang my hands in the tight leather gloves she gifted me, so long ago. i moved my feet to her sides and reached to her visage. i gripped her minds puree through my gloves and brought it to my own face. it leaked though my fingers, dripping into her already stained clothes. i licked it first. she tasted of iron, as though she were a machine. but, she is only flesh. rotting flesh. i took it into my mouth and swallowed. the tissue was rough and textured, clinging together as the flesh and meat slid down my throat. i wanted to get on all fours like an animal and tear her apart. i didn't. i mustn't disturb natures cycle. another creature will eat her. i stood above her as we looked before us in silence. the macabre of her corpse beneath me was gruesome, the way her blood flowed out of her as though her heart were still beating. more and more blood as she laid there, until it as too much for me to resist. i knelt over her and dug my fingers into the pile of mush, scooping her into my mouth. in my fitful, unrestrained escapade, i gave up on my hands and began digging my maw into what was her neck. sloppily, like an animal, i ate her. i ate her. by god, i ate her. to hell with natures cycle, to hell with her soul. i needed nothing more than her flesh in my stomach. i ate her like a starved man, like i was nothing but bone. i ate her, and she was dead; something she said could never be worse than the way i consumed her mind while she lived. she told me she envied my wife and our children. she wished she mattered to me that way, she said. it didn't matter anymore. after all these years, finally i had her. she wanted an end, desperately, and i had decided to give it to her. though really it was selfish, but then, so was everything else since the moment our eyes met. she remained fully devoted to me for years. i wanted her, i wanted her mind. when she'd told me she was going to kill herself, i stopped her. she said there was no point but me anymore, and i told her if that was so, she would let me do it. she agreed. to her, i was irresistible. however, she didn't know this would happen; it wasn't something we has discussed. but the poor girl would have said yes. to her, i was irresistible. and now, in this state, i finally saw her the same way. i fell in love with her as i gnawed and sucked, her body mixing into mine. her blood dripped down my neck as i devoured her. i was full, i was sick, and i continued. i feasted on what had ben mine for years. i tore out her jugular, a heavy stream of blood spouting out of her. like two magnets, i connected my mouth to the source and drank. i couldn't stop myself, even if i wanted to. i heaved and groaned and gasped as i licked and chewed and swallowed. for a moment, nausea overcame me. i rose and almost fell backward. as i stumbled, she sat up, her shattered skull and torn neck missing most of their contents. she tried to speak, but only spat blood at me. in horror, i reached forward and placed my hand on what i guessed was her cheek. i called her darling. i said i loved her. was this her vengeful spirit? she spat more, seizing and shaking. her hands shot to my head and forced me forward. she buried my face in hers, and i could not breathe. i convulsed and jerked but her grip was tighter than it ever cold have been while se was alive. soon, i lost feeling in my limbs. i cannot remember anything with her after that. i woke to bright lights and white walls. squinting from the fluorescent lights, my gaze shifted down to the firm bed id been put in and the needles in my arm. then, to the metal cuffing me to the bedframe.

symbolism/explanation

if i wasnt quite clear enough or you enjoy post read author analyses/explanations, youre in luck! obviously, she was not alive still. cannibalism can cause psychosis, and drinking enough blood makes your seriously sick. he felt nausea, and as he was passing out he fell into the mush and gore and nearly suffocated, while hallucinating shed come back to life. their backstory is a classic case of depressed younger woman and older man master manipulator groomer. even in psychosis, he knows how to control her, that she'd remain devoted and forgiving to him, and so he tells her he loves her, and calls her a pet name. the feeling he described as "love" wasnt quite, instead it was closer to satisfaction, power, or control. hes having this  power trip as he eats her, but some subconscious fear that she one day would beak from his control and "wake up" comes to the surface as he looses consciousness. the gloves symbolize power and importance, (in ancient rome and some other ancient civilizations, the noble and wealthy typically wore them), and as she grew through the years she still gave herself to him fully(as she gave him the gloves), viewing him as so incomprehensibly important, even though hes obviously a dirtbag loser. additionally, we all know cannibalism is a metaphor for an all consuming love. while she was not eating him, he was consumed by her as he nearly suffocated and died by falling into her, as well as his unstoppable urge to feast. moreover, in life the two of them were in love in some fucked up, twisted way. he was obsessed with her obsession with him. he loved so much that someone could be so devoted to him that it drove him to murder, so desperate and addicted to the power trip it gave him, like finding more harmful and powerful drugs in the midst of addiction. i likely have more to say, so ill probably edit this a few more times. i hope you enjoyed!