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Description
We gather around the small white forms. This is the part of the night we have been looking forward to... so soft, so white and sweet, these little things are forever silent just as they should be.

Some of us start to devour the the soft white forms as they are- others take pleasure in eating them not only raw but piece by piece. Tearing it apart enjoying the stickiness of the torn body on their hands. Others right away take the long metal pikes who's hilts are sturdy wood and impale the small white bodies and sent them into the great inferno near by. These ones some might call less barbaric- at least they are cooking their food.

The once soft clean white forms that were skewered by the pikes are browned or burnt in the fires, and the insides melted to a warm mush because of the intensity of the fires. I one of the ones using the pike right off, can imaging the screams that might be heard if our prey had the ability for speech- but such a thing is only for the living. And these small silent bodies are very much not alive. So it will be just a fantasy- a simple musing or the twisted mind.

The others catch on, and find their own pikes to warm the soft delicate forms on. While some keep at only impaling one small body at a time, other place four or more on theirs. Further examining show that even the garbage meat is being cooked in this way. Making it more eatable that it other wise was.

The garbage meat being leftover bits of other kills, squished into one form. Something that if examined closely, might sicken you, but the fact is- heated in the blazing fires the taste it great enough that the contents don't matter.

An awkward feast is a way to describe the feeding that one might witness if they came upon it. Time goes on, as time so often does, and the feeding continues. And worry passes through as the thought of running out of what we had longed for. However, we would never be let down... a new supply of some what foul meat- only made at all desirable by the fires, and so many more of the little, soft, so perfect and white morsels.

The night wears on, and we loose interest finally in the mass of food. So while most go of to find some form of entertainment, a few use the remains as entertainment. Skewing the the soft little bodies and left over garbage meat, and leaving them in the still bright inferno until the skewered pieces are ablaze too, then chasing each other with the now blackened and crispy forms.

Even this though can loose its entertainment value, just as eventually the fire will go out, and eventually the sun will rise. Before night can become day however all but a few go to sleep. One of those awake being myself and two others. This time is used for discussion of the past and present, and fantasies of the future. But words can only bring so much entertainment. Thus we three came to a consensus the tormenting our companions rest would be the thing to do.

Never once did we though think about cleaning up the mess we had made with our prey, our defenseless, dead victims. upon wandering back to our place of feasting, we discover the remains of our fun. Torn parts of left over this and that, charred pieces of now unidentifiable bodies. Once soft and white little forms now hard, and crusted, for lack of proper descriptive words. Bugs crawling in and on our remains. Knowing that no one wanted to find such a scene- we moved the mess farther away, so some other beast could eat it.

Such fun, a pleasant time for all, but now that the sun had risen, everything was over. Meaning that each of us had to part ways, and return to a normal existance...

or not.

For Heather

Description
We gather around the small white forms. This is the part of the night we have been looking forward to... so soft, so white and sweet, these little things are forever silent just as they should be.

Some of us start to devour the the soft white forms as they are- others take pleasure in eating them not only raw but piece by piece. Tearing it apart enjoying the stickiness of the torn body on their hands. Others right away take the long metal pikes who's hilts are sturdy wood and impale the small white bodies and sent them into the great inferno near by. These ones some might call less barbaric- at least they are cooking their food.

The once soft clean white forms that were skewered by the pikes are browned or burnt in the fires, and the insides melted to a warm mush because of the intensity of the fires. I one of the ones using the pike right off, can imaging the screams that might be heard if our prey had the ability for speech- but such a thing is only for the living. And these small silent bodies are very much not alive. So it will be just a fantasy- a simple musing or the twisted mind.

The others catch on, and find their own pikes to warm the soft delicate forms on. While some keep at only impaling one small body at a time, other place four or more on theirs. Further examining show that even the garbage meat is being cooked in this way. Making it more eatable that it other wise was.

The garbage meat being leftover bits of other kills, squished into one form. Something that if examined closely, might sicken you, but the fact is- heated in the blazing fires the taste it great enough that the contents don't matter.

An awkward feast is a way to describe the feeding that one might witness if they came upon it. Time goes on, as time so often does, and the feeding continues. And worry passes through as the thought of running out of what we had longed for. However, we would never be let down... a new supply of some what foul meat- only made at all desirable by the fires, and so many more of the little, soft, so perfect and white morsels.

The night wears on, and we loose interest finally in the mass of food. So while most go of to find some form of entertainment, a few use the remains as entertainment. Skewing the the soft little bodies and left over garbage meat, and leaving them in the still bright inferno until the skewered pieces are ablaze too, then chasing each other with the now blackened and crispy forms.

Even this though can loose its entertainment value, just as eventually the fire will go out, and eventually the sun will rise. Before night can become day however all but a few go to sleep. One of those awake being myself and two others. This time is used for discussion of the past and present, and fantasies of the future. But words can only bring so much entertainment. Thus we three came to a consensus the tormenting our companions rest would be the thing to do.

Never once did we though think about cleaning up the mess we had made with our prey, our defenseless, dead victims. upon wandering back to our place of feasting, we discover the remains of our fun. Torn parts of left over this and that, charred pieces of now unidentifiable bodies. Once soft and white little forms now hard, and crusted, for lack of proper descriptive words. Bugs crawling in and on our remains. Knowing that no one wanted to find such a scene- we moved the mess farther away, so some other beast could eat it.

Such fun, a pleasant time for all, but now that the sun had risen, everything was over. Meaning that each of us had to part ways, and return to a normal existance...

or not.

For Heather