Horror. Stacy Newberg Was My Friend

"""DISCLAIMER""" This is a work of fiction. nothing in this story reflects any actual people, and all of the people in this story are entirely fictitious. recommended age 18yrs or older.

Clark stood shaking, barrel smoking, sweat dripping from every pore. Danny lay breathless on the oil and blood slicked alley drive.
"How far do you really think you'll make it?" Stan spit across his blood soaked tongue " Do you really think you can steal from Tony Manchetti and get away with it?"
"No." Clark replied, his face gaining in pallor, "I think You and Danny here can steal from the Manchetti's and I can get away with it."
"You'll never make it, they will find---" (BANG!).
Stan's body fell to the floor like a heap of laundry.
Almost convulsing from nervousness, Clark shoved the nine millimeter into his leather coat pocket and began walking south down Paloma avenue. The blood felt warm trickling down the back of his knee. The hole in his thigh wasn't too serious, but it was enough to make Clark realize he needed a private place, and quickly.
Thinking on his feet, he headed into a local evening diner with a big green neon sign that reads GARY'S BURGERS. The sun had been down for long enough that the diner wasn't too busy. Clark proceeded to pull his hat brim tight to his brows just in case.
Darting through the door, Clark limped as quickly and nonchalantly as he could past the host who tried to greet him. Sweeping the room with his eyes, he spots the bathroom and heads towards the back wall, snagging a few rubber bands and a clean hand rag off the edge of the bar as he passed. Clark stepped onto the tile floor and realized for the first time that he was leaving a fairly decent trail of blood all the way back to the door and most likely all the way back to the alley. Rushing now as the dizziness crept in from shock wearing off, Clark achieved a handicapped stall in the back of the bathroom and began to disrobe.
The pain was immense as Clark peeled the partially coagulated denim back to reveal the gaping bloody hole on his inner right thigh. Pulling a flip knife from his pocket, he went to the business of cutting the rag into strips. Holding his leather belt between his teeth, Clark set his jaw and placed the tip of the blade on the edge of his wound. Looking intently at the chasm in his flesh, he began the gritting process of digging the bullet out.
A few muffles squeals later, the bit of flattened slag fell to the floor with a bloody click, click, click.
Using hand fulls of tissue paper to mop up blood, Clark began to tie his red wet leg with the rag.
The first knot made tears brim in his eyes. The second strip stopped the bleeding and broke one tooth on the belt. The third strip fully covered the hole and left clark unconscious.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Clark awoke disoriented. He was no longer in the bathroom, he could tell that. He was sitting upright. Clark opened his eyes but could not see, there was something tied to his head. As he gained more mental presence, he began to realize he could not move his arms or his legs, or even his fingers.
"When this bastard wake's up we will figure this out... until then, FIND THAT SACK OF SHIT STAN AND GET MY FUCKING MONEY BACK!"

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Stacy Newberg Was My Friend

I felt fairly unimportant as it was, now i get to double that feeling as my boss chews me out... again.
It's not my fault someone bled on the bathroom floor. It probably had to do with those guys who came in wearing zoot suits.
I dont really care i just want this guy to get out of my face...
i am so sick of smelling corn nuts on his breath and his body sweats after he masturbates in the office.
it makes me sick.

Lets talk about Donny for a minute...
i catch the pervert staring through the office curtains at customers all the time.
I can tell what he is doing, his face says it all from the window but the flapping of the drapes sure don't help him keep his secret. Donny inherited the restaurant from his adopted father Gary. Gary died about a year ago and i miss him. He was a much kinder boss than Donny. Some people say you cant blame mentally ill people for their actions, but in this case i don't agree. Donny knows what he is doing in there. autistic or not, Donny knows what he is doing and if he knows that he has to hide it, then he knows he should not be doing it in the first place. someone really needs to put this creep into his place.

My name is Karen and my bosses name is Donny... fuck Donny.
Lets talk about me for a second.
I am a cannibal.
i eat people. not just anyone though.
i recognized the monster i was becoming when i was a young teenager.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
i was in wood shop in high school the first time i tasted human flesh that wasn't my own.
My friend Stacy cut off part of his thumb on a band saw. The teacher didn't notice and Stacy was a flaming homosexual with a Napoleon complex, so he constantly spent his days proving how tough he was to everybody. when it happened Stacy reacted quickly by burning his thumb shut on the motor for the saw. He didn't even make a sound or shed a single tear. Then the harassment started. I made the mistake of picking up the flap of skin off the saw table. Stacy was joking that the other classmates were weak because johnny kindle puked when it happened.
Being Stacy's best friend i had to be tough too...
so i ate his thumb tip.

It scared me to be honest.
I was afraid of myself.
Not because of what i had done, but because i enjoyed it.
I got over that fear quickly though. i told Stacy about my fears but he told me not to worry. He said i wasn't a freak or anything, he said i was enjoying the moment of triumph, not the eating of flesh... but he was wrong. i didn't care about the triumph or what the other students thought about me. i like the flavor, the texture, the scent, and the thrill of knowing that i am eating another human being.

I shut up about it.
i didn't tell Stacy about it at all again after that. I entered an internal conflict for the next year.i kept feeling hungry and thirsty even right after i ate. i would wake up at night dreaming about strange foods i had never had before.
but i craved them, all of them.
this scared me even more.

so i decided to do something about it.
i decided to find out what i needed to make my need not as strong.
i started smoking cigarettes. i tried drugs. i smoked weed and that helped a lot, so i chose not to quit doing that. Then I had a couple bad run ins with cocaine when i was sixteen.
That's when i set my rules.

Stacy and i decided we wanted to do cocaine.
we had done it once already and had a good time, but we wanted more.
so i gave Stacy a hundred dollars i had collected by selling cigarettes and weed at school.
he left for the dealers house and i waited.
and waited..
and waited...

Next day it was announced in first period that Stacy had died in a police drug bust.
he was shot by a stray bullet from a police officer. i was furious and heartbroken.
During the ceremony the principle pulled me out of class and started to question me.
he kept saying things along the lines of-
"i know you and stacy were close... did you have anything to do with this?"
he kept acting like he was a cop.
i didn't care.
i just stood there crying.
eventually he gave up and pulled a bloody stack of palm sized papers from his pockets.
" I am so very sorry I was rude so soon after your friend's death, Karen. We just need to know what happened."
he extended his hand and gave me the stack of crusted papers.
"The police found these on Stacy's body. I asked for them and they said I could have them. I figured you would want them."

They were love notes.
They were signed and dated every day since the wood shop incident.
i took the one off the bottem of the stack labeled, "Sept/9" the day after the wood shop incident.
it read,
"Karen,
You're beautiful.
I know I told you I am gay but I lied.
I wanted to get close and be your friend.
Can you forgive me?
I love you, Karen, and I want to be with you forever.
-Stacy Newberg."

I cried the whole way back to class.
they were showing pictures of Stacy on the TV in the dark room.
i quietly made my way to my desk.
i was about to just cry myself to sleep on my desk when the news report started
and the power point of my friend playing basketball and singing in choir ended.
The woman on the screen was an older fake redhead with blonde roots.
Her makeup looked like it was applied with a frozen sardine instead of brushes,
and i couldn't really understand much she said,
except one sentence,
"Officer John Barrette will be suspended
for ten days without pay during the pending
investigation into the accidental death of a
local teenage high school student and basketball hero."

John Barrette...
i have a name.
i know who is responsible.
its time to act.

I left school that afternoon fairly distraught, but i was wrapped up in my own mind.
Little Johnny Kindle came by to buy a pack of smokes and a dime of weed after school.
i didn't pay him much mind, i gave him his weed but he kept just staring at me.
"Whats going on Karen?" he asked me,
"You're mumbling to yourself a lot."

"nothing" i mumbled back.
"just distracted"

"Don't let that Stacy thing get you too far down, your still my friend."

I ignored him and he left.
i had been thinking, i was hatching a plan.
i thought long and hard about how i was going to get Barrette for what he did to my friend.
My father was a machinist so i made my way down stairs and into his shop.
i collected an air compressor, duct tape, a foot long piece of PVC pipe and went into the kitchen.
i dropped down into the basement and popped open the deep freezer door.
There were icicles hanging from the bottom of the lid to the freezer.
i broke off enough to fill the PVC fully then put the freezer lid back.
i took the duct tape and taped the tube to the air compressors release valve making an effective barrel
then i went outside with the icicles and shot them from the tube into a tree.
most of the icicles pierced the tree between two and eight inches, leaving decent holes in it.
i knew what i had to do.
i cut the tape off the tube and put everything back where i found it then made my way to sleep for the night.

The next morning i cornered little Kindle in the hallway.
"Hey Johnny, i hear you are pretty good with computers?"

he was intimidated,
he shrank closer to the concrete at his back.

"a-a-a- l-little bit." he finally stammered.

"i need you to find an address for me." i told him firmly,
" and if you don't...
i'll tell your mom all about your smoking habits
and how you got that A+ in chemistry."

i dropped the paper with a single name on it at Johnny's feet and walked into class without another word.
For the rest of the day Kindle threw me scared, worried, and angry looks.
Just after seventh period, he came up to me as i was about to walk into the school parking lot.

"Here... and don't ask me for anything again after this.
I don't want anything to do with it. this guy is a cop... I know who he is.
I dont know what you are thinking, Karen, but leave me out of it."

He took off like a bat out of hell.
that was the last thing Johnny ever said to me.

I waited until about an hour after midnight then i hit the street.
i loaded my back pack with the compressor tube system and filled a small cloth cooler with icicles.
The cop barely lived two miles away.
i walked for a little less than an hour and found his house.
it wasn't hard to spot there was a squad car parked in the driveway
no other vehicles, and no dog in the yard,
so i hopped the gate and made my way to the sliding glass door.
i layed my gloved hand across the large window and slid it to the left.
sure enough it slid half an inch then it caught.
it was locked.
i analyzed the crack in the door and discovered there was no internal latch,
just a party bar across the bottom of the railing the door was on.
i looked in through the window again and realized that there was an open window in the living room.
a decent sized white guy was passed out with a slice of pizza on his lap,
snoring and drooling in the dim light from infomercials.
He sat on the couch almost directly below the window.

i made my way around the house,
slid the window up and climbed onto the sill.
the man didn't move,
didn't even shift in the slightest.
i jumped down onto the stained red carpet next to the disgusting brown couch.
this guy was a slob.
i decided to get to business.

i walked behind the TV,
plugged in the compressor and loaded it with ice.
i flipped the compressor on and the noise of the motor made the man jump awake.

I think he was going to ask me why i was there,
but i didnt hesitate,
i fired a round of ice.
the man shredded almost instantly.
blood stained the carpet making it a deeper red, almost brown.
and then the craving hit again.

It hit hard.

The smell of blood made me go so wild i almost lost control.
i started sweating and shaking,
i found myself feeling ravenously hungry all of a sudden.
i studied the bleeding meat mass in front of me with wide eyes.
i reached one finger down and covered the tip with the dead police officers blood.
i licked it and the reaction was instant.

The craving spiked.

i doubled over in need and arousal.
my senses were on fire.
i tore a piece of meat from the inside of his now exposed rib and took a bite.

it was the best thing i had ever ingested.

i turned around to look for a knife when i spotted myself in the mirror.
i had to stare at myself for a while to believe what i was seeing.
there i was, 5'7'' auburn hair, black beenie and a black leotard,
blood on my face and hands,
and hazel eyes staring right back,
showing me the monster i was inside.

I decided i had a bit of time.
it was the middle of the night.
i thought to myself,
"how much more of a monster can i be?
what can i truly turn myself into?"

...then i feasted.

i found a serrated knife in the kitchen.
i kicked at the ribs until they broke giving me access to his organs.
i cut the heart out first,
then i went for the liver and pancreas,
once i picked up and moved the intestines the kidneys were available too.
i searched the kitchen for a mason jar and found one.
i put the liver in the jar...

...that was my trophy.

i took the heart and kidney's into the kitchen with me.
i turned on the stove and pulled out a skillet.
While i waited for the kidney's to sear, i enjoyed eating the heart raw.

...every bite was orgasmic.

the taste on my tongue was amazing,
even the feeling of the blood running off my lips down my neck
and across my chest was fantastic.

...better than i could have ever gotten from any man in bed.

After my meal i noticed it was almost three a.m. so i decided it was time to go.
i cut off a few chunks of flesh and put them into the cloth cooler
then found a gasoline can in the garage and proceeded to soak the living room.
i threw my backpack out the window and climbed out after it.
turned on the water hose and washed my hands and face,
then lit a cigarette and threw the burning match book back inside.

Stacy was avenged
and i got what i needed.
i got the knowledge of just what i am dealing with.
i got the wisdom of how to tame this beast.

...i got the fuel to make the cravings go away.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

"All right Donny, i am leaving for the night!"
i called up to the office from the lobby.
Little did he know, I wasn't going home.
...i was waiting by his car...
Knife and mason jar in hand.
My name is Karen...
And i eat people.