Contributor: James Wolanyk
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It was just a matter of time until they got him. They were weak, scrawny little things, covered in sores and clambering over one another to get a look at the prey. They gnashed their teeth in mismatched rows and giggled with horrible, slurping fits of joy. It sounded like something was caught in their throats, like undigested meat festered between their jaws.
He had never seen them before, but he was certain they had seen him.
“Believe me, I know it sounds crazy,” he would tell his wife.
For the first few weeks it was funny. She almost thought it was a scare tactic to get the kids in bed. But they were five and six years old, hardly able to stomach the details that he recounted. He spoke of nauseating things.
“And they ate everything. They save the pancreas for last because they can taste the insulin.”
He...
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Author:
James Wolanyk
