The Hungry
By Nomar Knight
I have been called by many names. Feared by thousands. So many lives succumbed to my insatiable appetite. On a night like countless others, I strutted along the city streets among the multitudes of boastful creatures, each engulfed in his own miserable existence. My observation of the beasts while they played their games grew into a morbid fascination. Too bad they never knew that they’re struggles were pointless. They took their surroundings for granted and used each other for selfish gains. They inhabited a fruitful planet suited for my talents since strength was rewarded with the spoils of victory. The ruthless cretins conquered only to succumb to my fancies.
I followed Mr. Wonderful into a bar and grinned at how he exuded the utmost confidence. His brown hair barely combed to the right, fell into place as if he had commanded his body to follow his will. He sat at the bar like the world owed him everything. The young female bartender cooed as he whispered in her ear. She blushed and promptly fetched his drink.
Once Mr. Wonderful got what he needed, he turned and faced the patrons sitting at the tables and booths. He scanned the room like a lioness eyeing a field of antelope. He failed to notice the disappointment plastered on the bartender’s face. The temptation to reveal her good fortune passed as the hunger reminded me that I had to remain still and look unassuming.
Mr. Wonderful stepped off the stool and inched his way towards me. I pretended to see him for the first time and grinned as if in disbelief. The smug look on his face signaled that I was not worthy of the self professed titan’s presence, but I resisted a chuckle, knowing he played into my hands.
“Is this seat taken?”
He lowered his glass toward the empty chair. Without uttering a word, I shook my head slightly, making sure my blond hair didn’t hide my face. He had no idea that we had spent an intimate night. There was nothing more revealing than peaking inside a man’s dreams.
He placed the drink on the red tablecloth and offered a hand. “Hi, I’m Armando.”
I smiled, careful not to flash my pearly whites and gently placed my hand on his.
He held on to it, leaned closer and whispered, “This is where you tell me your name, blue eyes.”
I giggled and shuttered, allowing him to feel my energy, knowing that he would take it as a sign of flattery. Experience allowed me to mask my intentions with expert precision.
“I’m Karma.”
His eyebrows furrowed in surprise. Mr. Wonderful chuckled in a controlled manner, blocking the outside world from seeing his imperfections.
“Were your parents hippies?”
His ignorance confirmed a millennium of pure inbreeding. His kind craved the hunt in order to feel superior.
“No, they were stockbrokers. Now I’m alone in the world.”
I sounded sad and innocent.
The sparkle in his dark eyes confirmed my ability to push the right buttons.
“Do you want to get out of here, Karma?”
The hunger inside me released. Men like Mr. Wonderful could never get enough. They mistook it for pheromones of lust.
I rose from the chair and whispered in his ear, “Sure, but be gentle with me.”
We got in his blue Lamborghini where I let him feel every crevice of my body. We kissed and my hunger reached a fever pitch.
He said, “I want to be inside you.” He unzipped his pants.
I pretended to be helpless and said, “No, not here.”
“Come on, Karma! It’s dark here. There’s no one around. No one can see or hear us.”
“But I’m nervous.”
He jumped on me, searched for panties, yet found none. Then he smiled, “Why are you fighting it, baby? You know you want this.”
I tried to meagerly push him off, but he was too big, too strong. I yelled, “I can’t because I lied to you.”
He stopped. “Lied about what?”
I trembled as though completely helpless, looked away from him, and said, “My name isn’t Karma.”
He chuckled. “That doesn’t matter, baby.” He tried to force himself inside me. I lifted and flung him, smashing his back against the driver’s side window, cracking it.
He screamed, “What the hell?”
“Allow me to introduce myself, Mr. Wonderful. I am The Hungry.”
His screams and his soul satisfied my thirst, for the night.
- 806 words
© Copyright Nomar Knight 2015. All rights reserved.
A Knight Chills Flash Fiction Presentation.
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