#cannibalcore

2 cannibalistic serial killers sit across a table. One presents a plate of thinly sliced intestine grilled with a white wine sauce and pear salad, the other presents a simple marinated and smoked slab of meat, fat cooked down to a tender- but greasy- dish. “next time you come to my house, I will cook. I insist.” Hannibal stated, picking up a perfectly polished fork to stab into his intestine, impacting the red organ under the lights of his dining room. You watched him across the table, using your fingers to pull apart the tender flesh. You could almost see him grimace at the animalistic state of it, but you ignored it in favour of your food. The taste itself was orgasmic; the animal you had slaughtered? A corrupt official, who focused more on the control of minorities than the state of his back door lock. You hadn’t made it quick for him, but you did make it delicious.

You met Hannibal at a convention of the arts. A new modern installation paired with wine tasting and small plates of bite sized meals. You appreciated the free wine and socialising of the upper class, and he seemed more focused on explaining the palate of the wine, and the analysation of a canvas you couldn’t find half interesting. He found you yet again that night, dragging a man through bushes and barbed wire deep into the forest by the side of the road. You didn’t speak much, but see seemed pleased when you offered him some of the organs. It wasn’t your palate.

You found his life interesting. Followed him around his little office, followed his deranged patients and his little FBI agent project. He nearly killed you for that last one; that got your blood rushing. Promising you wouldn’t hurt the man he liked so dearly while soaked in your own blood.

Hannibal understood you since the day he saw you at that art gallery. He could see the hunger in your eyes, the way you watched the crowd and swirled the wine glass with the carelessness of the middle class. He could tell since he laid eyes on you that what you were really here for wasn’t an artist, but a canvas to display your works.