The Hungry

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.

Chupa Cabra: Friend or Foe

Let’s put aside any personal feelings we may have about the existence of the creature called the Chupa Cabra. Eyewitness reports have more or less described a creature about four feet in height with a canine or boar’s snout and black in color. Some witnesses claimed the creature can fly and has wings. Regardless of sightings that seem to be seasonal in nature throughout warm climate locations, the possibility of the beast being a hybrid of some kind has ignited creative interpretations which have turned the beast into a legend.

I have personally interviewed two people who claim to have encountered the strange creature that others deemed the Chupa Cabra. One man came face to face with the terrifying creature while working in a dairy. The other heard a commotion in his yard, expecting to ward off thieves. Imagine his surprise upon discovering the culprit wasn’t human. I promise to detail these accounts in a short story that I’ll submit to a new medium called Chupacabra Magazine. In the meantime, I’d like to share a rumor I heard a few years ago.

Why the Chupa Cabra Doesn’t Attack Humans


In beautiful Puerto Rico, under a cloak of darkness, a drunk who worked in a dairy farm fell asleep. He awoke yelling and cursing because something bit his neck. A noise coupled with a stinging pain, set off his internal alarm that something malicious stood near. He discovered a wound as some blood stained his fingers. He rose from the chair with flashlight in hand and discovered a black creature with red angry eyes backing away from him. The drunk noted that in spite of his height advantage, his instincts were to retreat as well, too stunned to take his eyes off the strange creature, he said, “What are you?”

Their encounter was brief because instead of the beast charging at the man, it appeared to ascend into the trees. At first he thought it was a monkey, but the more he tried to recall the creature’s features, the more he understood, nothing like it was known to man. Nevertheless, the encounter left the man with two puncture wounds in his neck.

His boss arrived with the rising sun and when he examined the frighten man’s wounds, chuckled. “Looks like you got bitten by a vampire bat.”

They made light of the event until they spotted a cow lying on the ground. It wasn’t long before they discovered the cow was lifeless and had two puncture wounds similar to the drunkard. When they sliced open the cow they discovered it was drained of all its blood.

Rumor has it that because the Chupa Cabra attacked an alcoholic, it dislikes the taste of man and that’s why it hasn’t attacked another human since.

Of course, the rumor cannot be collaborated, but like myths, it is entertaining to the rest of us. I’m sure the drunkard would disagree with our assessment. So next time you’re in the wilderness. Watch out for the creature with the devil’s eyes. You may come face to face with the legendary Chupa Cabra.

See you on the dark side.

Nomar Knight