To Be Known is To Be Consumed
Elias “Stack” Moore x black!reader
Summary: This is a love story.
divider credit: @viviansturns
Warning(s): If you’re squeamish, this may not be the story for you. Smut (18+, MDNI, but tbh it’s not very explicit), Southern Gothic themes, dark romance, toxic relationships and dynamics, angst, cheating, violence, body horror, gore, romantic cannibalism (lol), horror
Lovergirlnote: Hi, my beautiful lovergirls. So this story was me being a bit experimental and writing in first person. Also, this is somewhat of a personal story for me, as I have incorporated aspects of my own relationships with the men in my life and past loves. (lol let’s not get into that trauma), but I’m really curious to see what you all think of this! Let me know, and as always, thank you all so much for the love and support. 🥹♥️
I remember the first time that I met you.
You were standing in the middle of the room, women and men flocking around you. All hoping for just one chance to have your eyes on them.
I watched you that night. I don’t think there was one moment when my eyes didn’t glance in your direction. I was at a weird point in my life. I’d just lost Anthony. Another heartbreak added to a list of unreliable men that all derived from my father.
I kept my eyes on you. I could feel my interest growing more and more with each passing glance that I gave you. I wanted you to see me just as much as you were seeing everyone else. Call it a coincidence or some sick act of fate, but you did.
You slid your body into the seat next to mine and ordered a glass of Hennessy. I knew that you were waiting for me to finally acknowledge you, which I did after a few short seconds. I was “playing hard” as my mother had taught me as a young girl. You always make men wait for you. Never let them get the assumption that you’re “easy” because then they’ll leave.
At least, that’s what my mama always told me.
“So you gone keep pretendin’ like you don’t see me starin’ at you?” You asked.
I flicked my gaze over you, “I thought they taught all good Southern boys that it was rude to stare.”
You laughed, and not some mild chuckle, you fully laughed at my statement. A smile crossed your face next. I’d known enough men to know what each smile meant. That night, yours meant trouble. You leaned closer to me, as if we were sharing some deep secret, “Well, suga’, I’m not one of those good Southern men ya’ mama and grandmama probably told you about. I’m way better.”
I liked that about you. Your arrogance. It wasn’t like other men’s arrogance. Where theirs bordered on into dangerous territory, yours ventured more in line with self-assuredness. You knew who you were, and you weren’t afraid to let it be known.
“What’s your name?” I asked, taking a small sip from my drink.
“Elias Moore, but you can call me Stack,” You answered in return.
I rolled the syllables of your name around in my mouth for a few moments. Three syllables. What I found interesting was the notion that the “lie” sound in your name stretched out. I suppose that should’ve been my first warning not to fall for you. But I’ve always been bad at relationships, and I’ve always been good at picking very bad men, including you.
You asked for my name, and I gave it to you.
Naturally, you complimented my name. ‘Said it fit my face and that it was the prettiest thing you’d ever heard. For the remainder of the night, we sat at that bar, exchanging knowledge and thinly concealed desire. I liked it. I liked being seen by you. I now recognize why so many people were drawn to you. You had the distinct ability to make others feel like they were the center of your universe.
And God was it infecting.
I wanted more.
I needed to have more of you.
I’ve known many men in my life.
But I can say with full assurance that I haven’t loved many. In fact, I’ve only loved three.
The first was my father.
He was bound to be the first man that I’d love in my lifetime. But see, my father, he’s a very talented man. He’s the only man that I know who can disappear and reappear all at the same time. By the time that I was born, my mama and daddy had already split up. Problems that were too complicated for a child my age to understand, but I grew to know more.
Growing up, I didn’t see my father much. There’d be a handful of times that I could count on my hand that I had memories with him. He’d appear in my life with empty promises of sticking around and building our relationship. I’d always been a foolish and naive girl, and it started with him. I believed that he meant it when he said that he wanted to be around.
But reality comes in quick to remind you that love isn’t always eternal.
I liked to think of my father as a Jack-in-the-box. One minute, he was here, and next, he wasn’t. There’d be a bitter acidic feeling swirling through the cavity of my chest when I realized that he had left. The phone calls decreased. The Saturday pickups stopped. He was my very own ghost.
When my father appeared again, he didn’t appear alone. He appeared with another girl whose resemblance to mine was nearly identical. I watched as he laughed and paraded his perfect daughter around. I watched their interactions. The inside jokes and laughs. There’d be moments when I saw him be immortalized in pictures with her when I had none of my own to cherish.
That was the first time I’d ever felt the hunger.
It clawed away at my chest and rattled beneath my ribs. My gums ached with a distinct urge to consume.
My father was the first.
Lee was the second.
Sweet Lee.
I was a sophomore when I met him. He’d just gotten out of a relationship with a very pretty girl. We clicked together in this strange way. The first moment of us texting consisted of corny jokes and poor pickup lines, but I liked it all. I liked being in those moments with Lee when it felt like I was at the center of his entire world.
The strange thing about Lee and I, we never had a moment to properly kiss until our last moments together.
There’d been this moment outside of school where we stood toe-to-toe, like we were in some romance movie, and we smiled at each other, but I felt the hunger simmering low beneath my stomach. When he leaned in to kiss me, I turned my head at the last second so that his lips landed on my cheek. What I loved about Lee is that he was a real gentleman. He didn’t mind that I turned my head. He just assumed it meant that I was shy.
I smiled at him that day–perfect porcelain teeth hiding thinly concealed fangs.
A common theme in my life with men is that they all inevitably leave. And coincidentally, they all end up leaving for another woman. I’d watched my father leave and go on to create a perfect family with another woman and child. His perfect family.
It was only nature that Lee would do the same thing.
The aforementioned girl from earlier wasn’t over Lee. In fact, she was just as possessive over him as I was. I saw that look in her eye. It’s a look of predatory disposition that only women can seem to sense in each other. However, the girl didn’t know that I possessed something much more dangerous than she and anyone else could ever comprehend.
This face that I wear is not my own.
It’s one that I inherited from my mama and from her mama, but that’s all it is–a mask. I’d grown so used to wearing it that I can’t remember what my real face looks like. I knew I loved Lee, but I was never brave enough to say it aloud. I wouldn’t express that kind of emotion unless he told me that he loved me first. I knew that we were well on our way to that stage until his love started to waver.
The calls decreased. The texts went unanswered for hours. I knew in my heart that he was with her.
Then came the feeling again.
The hunger. The ravenous bloodthirst and ache in my gums to sink my teeth into raw flesh.
By the end of the week, I asked you to come over. You thought it was to finally end things, which was true in some way. That night, I stepped closer to you. Your chest was pressed up against mine, and I could hear the thudding of your heartbeat against my breasts. I trailed a hand up your chest before settling it upon your cheek. I remember you leaned into my touch and closed your eyes at the warmth of my hand.
I brought your face closer to mine until your lips were pressed to mine.
Only a few minutes later were you gone.
The ache and hunger that I felt were gone, too.
Anthony was the third.
He was the one that I loved the most out of any man. I loved Anthony more than my father, and I loved him more than Lee. I met Anthony in my senior year of high school. I was bright-eyed and eager to finally transition to the next stage of my life.
Then he walked in and ruined my life.
Smooth brown skin and hazel eyes.
My mama had always told me to watch out for those men with the pretty eyes. They’d use their eyes to draw you into their lies. That’s exactly what Anthony had done to me.
I tried to fight the interest that I had for Anthony. It was all in vain when he spoke, and his words wrapped around me like silk. He was the first boy that I’d ever let see me–the real me. I bared parts of myself to Anthony that I don’t think I’ve ever recovered.
Anthony started the game first. He’d been doing this for far longer than I had. We developed a friendship first. Isn’t that how all good relationships start? The relationship came next, or I’d rather refer to it as something more parasitic. Anthony took, and I gave. That’s the way that it worked.
He’d give me scraps, and like a hungry dog, I licked them obediently from the floor. Even worse, I’d look at him and thank him for it. There’s always been something interesting about Anthony. He was so talented at giving you breadcrumbs of his love and then stealing the rest away for later.
The first time that Anthony kissed me, it felt like he was taking something away from me. I could taste the metallic iron on his tongue, and only after a few seconds did I realize that it was my own. He swirled his tongue around in my mouth like he wanted to consume every piece of me for himself. He held me close, hands gripping at the curves of my still girlish body. He trailed his lips down and ran his tongue upon my neck before biting down. I remember the dizziness that I felt from it all. The hunger settled in my stomach, and it felt like a hot piece of iron searing into the depths of my soul.
In that moment, I gave every piece of myself over to Anthony, and he’d given me a small portion of himself, too.
There were moments of bliss before the darkness started to take over again.
He found another girl.
When he wasn’t with me, he was with her. I’ll let you in on a little secret: he was always with her more than he was with me. Just as my father, Anthony, would immortalize himself in pictures with his other, more perfect girl. I watched. I wept, but I still wasn’t ready to let him go. He’d come back eventually. He’d take a piece of me as an offering each time before he’d disappear. I let him.
It was only when he was taking from me that I ever felt wanted by him.
The hunger grew inside me–stronger than I’d ever felt it. This time, it made me sick to my stomach. I’d wake up in the morning with my gums aching something awful before running to the bathroom to throw up yellow bile. I dry heaved over the ceramic bowl as my mother rubbed my back.
As she looked at me, I knew that she recognized all the signs of my peril.
Besides, she’d been the one who passed this curse down to me.
“You need to eat, baby,” She whispered against my hair.
I don’t remember when the change happened, or when the light switch flipped, but suddenly, I wanted to reclaim all of the parts of me that Anthony had stolen. I wanted to take from him just as he’d done to me. That night, I rubbed at my gums, smearing blood across my teeth and moaning at the taste of it.
I met Anthony in the middle of the woods.
In those very woods, our bodies connected one last time, rolling around in the dirt like we were animals. I clawed at his back, fingernails carving at his back. I wanted him to feel the pain and not be able to discern it from pleasure.
Then he was gone.
There was blood. Lots of it. It covered my body. I went down by the river and washed it from my face. I walked home, and my mama was waiting there for me on the porch. A cloud of smoke covered her face as she held the Virginia Slim between her fingers. She stood from her chair and ushered me inside the house.
I sat between her legs as she picked the dried leaves and things from my hair. She was so patient and soft as I lay my head against her thigh. She started at the front of my hairline and began to braid my hair. She leaned down to press a kiss against my temple, “It’s okay. It’s over now.”
I let myself close my eyes as I still tasted the remnants of blood on my tongue.
You surprised me, Stack.
I didn’t expect ot fall for you as quickly as I did. But you made it so easy to want you. After the first night of meeting you, I started to see you everywhere. You’d even managed to haunt my dreams when I closed my eyes at night.
I saw you a few days later at The Chow’s grocery store. I felt you before I saw you. Funny enough, I could smell your cologne permeating throughout the air, even though I was sure that you were still standing at the front of the door. The hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention as you slithered behind me.
A serpent came to tempt Eve, and Lord, I was willing to eat any forbidden fruit if it meant that I got experience life with you.
“Sure is nice seein’ you here,” You said, shamelessly trailing your eyes up and down my figure. The dress clung to my body due to the sticky nature of the humidity that day.
I locked my eyes onto you, “You sure you ain’t stalkin’ me?”
You smirked, flashing that gold in my direction. Your smile, it always felt dangerous, even if it was sincere. There was something predatory that lay beneath that smile. But I’d always been the lamb that found herself being devoured by the wolf.
“No stalkin’. You know this town is small enough for me to turn around and see you. Plus, it’s easy to spot you, seein’ as you ain’t from here.”
“What gives you the impression that I’m not from around here?”
You leaned your body closer to mine, “Well, I’ve been livin’ here my whole life and I ain’t neva’ seen a pretty gal like you here. Trust me, I’d remember.”
I remember laughing at your statement. You always had this way of making me laugh, even when I was so mad at you and ready to burn the house down. You’d blown the match out and made some joke about keeping me warm. You always made me laugh, Elias.
I miss that about you.
I’d be telling a lie if I didn’t say that our relationship progressed rather quickly. Once you were in my life, you became entwined in ways that I couldn’t fathom. You introduced me to your family: Smoke, Annie, and lil’ Sammy. I remember the first time that Smoke and Annie saw me. That almost quick, indiscernible look of concern as they took me in, standing next to you.
I was smart enough to avoid any contact with Annie.
I know she’d figure me out with just one touch.
It was Smoke who kept his eyes on me the whole time. I never told you about the conversation that he and I had in the kitchen.
“Where you from?” Smoke asked from behind me.
I turned from the sink and leaned against it, “All over. My mama and I moved a lot growing up. I grew up in the Delta, though.”
He nodded. That quiet disposition and distrust sinking away at his eyes. For a moment, I felt that ache in my gums. I wondered what his eyes would taste like squishing between my molars.
I took another sip of water to dispel the hunger.
“My brother seems to like you a lot,” Smoke commented.
“I like him a lot.”
“You don’t think that’s pretty quick?”
I shrugged, “When it’s meant to be, it’s just meant to be. No use fightin’ it.”
Smoke nodded, but I could still see that weariness and older sibling protectiveness dripping from him. However, he was right to worry.
“Just be careful. My brother can be very careless when it comes to women.”
“Noted. Thank you, Elijah.” I said, concluding the conversation. Even though he tried to hide it, I watched the flinch that overcame him at me saying his name.
I took you to meet my mama.
I don’t think you realized how much of a privilege it was. I rarely brought men home to meet my mama unless I was sure that it was serious. My mama greeted you with a smile and a Virginia Slim between her fingers.
I watched the interaction between the two of you.
You were being your usual charming and charismatic self. You didn’t even realize that my mama had already picked up on what type of man that you were. She’d always been good at spotting wolves, even when they tried to hide in sheep’s clothing.
Later that day, as my mama and I sat on the porch, she brought you up, “Be careful with that boy of yours. He ain’t the type to be chained down.”
Upon hearing her words, I felt the ache and burning start to consume my throat. My mama rocked in her chair and held the cigarette out in my direction. I grabbed it from her fingers and took a long drag from it. The bitter nicotine burned at my throat, but it helped satiate the hunger.
“It’ll be different this time. I care about him. We’ll make it work.”
My mama didn’t say much. Just took the cigarette from my fingers and held it back up to her lips. As she expelled the smoke from her mouth, she spoke again, “I hope for your sake that it’s true. But remember this, baby…you need to eat.”
I didn’t go visit her for weeks.
There’s something about you, Elias. You have a way of slithering yourself beneath the layers of my skin that I was aware of. You’re the embodiment of physical desire and passion. You always had this way of making me feel like I was on fire everywhere. When you touched me or pressed your lips against mine, I always felt like you were taking a canister of gasoline and pouring it all over me.
I’d gladly give you the match.
Late at night at the juke joint, you press my body against yours, holding me close like I’d slip through your fingers. You settled your mouth against my pulse and kissed there.
“All these men here. Lookin’ at you and wishing that they had a chance, but you’re all mine, babygirl. I ain’t eva’ letting you go.”
I remember the chills that scattered across my body at your clear possession over me. You wanted me. You desired me. I didn’t have to question it.
I remember looking up into your eyes, “I’m all yours, Elias. Forever.”
That night was the first time that we made love. I’d never felt anything like it before. It felt like I was being infected with you, and there was no cure for it. You and I weren’t gentle about it either. I remember how you slammed me against the wall, rutting your body into mine. The sounds of your hips slapping against mine as I clawed relentlessly at your back.
It looked more like we were fighting than making love.
It was something primal, but it was ours. I remember that as I rolled my hips across yours, I draped my body across yours and mouthed at the place where your neck and shoulder met. Suddenly, it was as if I could feel the blood moving beneath your skin, and my mouth watered in anticipation.
I bit you.
Not just some gentle love bite. A bite hard enough to imprint my teeth in your skin. You flinched and came inside me. I think it surprised you just as much as it surprised me. When I released you, I could feel the shame settling over my body. I was prepared for you to throw me off you and kick me out.
But you surprised me.
You smiled. Wild, unhinged, and dark. You threaded your fingers throughout my hair as you brought me down into another earth-shattering kiss.
My eyes met yours as we pulled back from the kiss, “You can bite me too if you want.”
It’s funny how things seemed to deteriorate for us, Stack.
We were good. God, we were so good.
You’d told me you loved me more times than I could comprehend. Even though he was still wary, Smoke had started to come around to the idea of you and me being together. From what I’d discerned, this was the longest relationship that Stack had been in.
It felt good to hear it be called a relationship. Not some situation, but an actual relationship between you and me.
But I was so blind. So consumed by love that I didn’t see the signs that you were starting to fall out of love with me.
It started when she came into town.
Mary.
Some white girl, yet you claimed that she was nothing of the sort. I should’ve sensed the signs when you couldn’t keep your eyes off of her in the train station. When I asked you about her, you claimed that she was old news. Nothing to worry about. How naive I was to actually believe your words.
It started small with you. You trailed crumbs across the floor of your indiscretions and sins. You wouldn’t be outright with your betrayal. No, you were a man who valued the thrill of danger. Your connection with her started emotionally before it became physical.
That’s what hurt more.
You’d already been giving her the pieces of yourself that I had masterfully crafted and catered to. The hunger, it came back fierce and unwavering when you came home, smelling of her perfume. I pretended not to notice, but it made me sick to my stomach.
That night, we engaged in another session of primative mating. It was borderline violent as I released my frustrations onto you. I think you suspected that I knew, but you gave it back to me just as fiercely as I gave it to you. Your fingers tangled in my hair, and you pulled so hard that I could feel the strands breaking.
I wondered if you were this rough with her.
Did you give her these same brutal thrusts, or were you gentle? Were you slow and methodical in your movements? Did you whisper sweet nothings into her ear as she withered and cried in pleasure? What was she giving you that I wasn’t?
I bit you again that night. Harder than I ever have before. This time, it broke skin. Your blood filled my mouth and trailed down your back. You moaned through it all as our mutual releases hit. I let you go and wrapped my arms around your neck as the blood continued to seep down between our bodies.
Hot tears flowed down my face and burned as hot as lava.
You turned my face to yours as the tears touched your skin. For a moment, we stared at each other. For a moment, you were in love with me again. For only a moment, you were mine again.
Only a moment later did I watch your love go away.
Small towns have a way of holding the darkest secrets, especially if it’s for one of their own.
Curiously, I waited for someone to slip up and confirm your infidelity. I wanted to see if there’d be any brave souls who wanted to put me out of my misery, but there were no takers. They’d all kept their loyalty to you.
But I saw the stares. The low murmurs as I passed through the stores. The poorly hidden faux masks of sympathy. You were parading your whore around at night, while her husband and I were expected to play supporting characters in your affair.
I waited.
You left for the night to go to the juke joint. I followed you, but I stayed concealed by the shadows to observe. I swallowed down the bile as I watched you and her, bodies coiled together like a piece of rope. You held her and whispered in her ear just as you’d done to me. What hurt the most was how carefree and in love you looked.
There was a clicking in my throat and that familiar burning of hunger.
By the time that you came home that night, I’d quietly packed my things to leave. I walked to my mama’s house, and as expected, she was waiting there with a pack of Virginia Slims.
“Come here, baby,” She said, patting her lap. I sat between her legs, just as I’d done a thousand times in my life. She ran her fingers across my forehead, feeling the spike of heat beneath her fingertips.
“You need to eat,” She said, smoke billowing around us. The quiet song of crickets and frogs filled the outdoor space as my mama continued stroking my hair. I felt my mouth water as the violent urge to devour enveloped me. I turned my head to my mother’s bare leg and bit down roughly. Her metallic blood filled my mouth, and she never made any signs to show that it hurt her.
Besides, we’d been doing this since I was a child. Just as her mother had done for her and her mother before her. We were all women weaned on violence, and we’d give this same thing to our babies.
It was just the way of life.
Word spread rather quickly of me leaving you. You showed up just as I expected. Sorrow and shame were present in your eyes as you stood in front of me. The hunger was back. It tore at my gums and scattered across my taste buds.
Suddenly, I wanted to take from you. I wanted to see the inside of you and feel your blood dripping into my mouth. I invited you into the house. My mama was gone for the day.
I turned to face you as you stood across from me in the bedroom, “Did you ever love me, Elias? Truly love me?”
“I did. I mean, I do. What Mary and I have is complicated. But you matter to me just as much as she does.”
A low laugh rattled from my chest as the hunger rummaged beneath my ribcage. I stepped closer to you, “So choose. Me or her.”
I waited for your reaction. I wanted to see, and just as expected, you disappointed me. The flash of conflict in your eyes let me know that it’d never be me. It’d always be her. You’d managed to become my father, Lee, and Anthony all in one blink of an eye.
I trailed my fingers up your chest before grasping your face in my hands. I pressed my lips against yours softly. I could taste the remnants of her on your lips, and it made me ill.
“Make love to me one last time, Elias.”
The grief passed through your eyes. You always were selfish and greedy. You truly believed that you could have it all. Our clothes fell to the floor in whispers. I straddled your thighs on the bed as I sank down on you. That same breathless gasp left your mouth. We weren’t violent this time. There was no need to sully this moment with violence. Just as your climax consumed you, I clamped down on the same place where I’d bitten you before.
Only this time, I didn’t let go.
This time, I tore the piece of flesh from your neck and swallowed it. Your eyes widened in pure terror as the blood spluttered from the wound and covered both of us. You tried in vain to push me off of you, but the blood loss was happening too quickly. I held your wrists down to the bed as I drank my fill of your blood. My teeth sank into the middle of your neck as I ripped another piece from you. Your vocal cords were exposed.
I watched the muscles contract. The same vocal cords that you’d used to tell me you love me and lie to me all in one breath. You continued sputtering on the bed, but I was able to witness that final moment when you’d taken your last breath and your eyes glazed over.
I made sure to hold contact with you so that I’d be the last thing you ever saw.
I ate the rest of you. Each and every piece. I didn’t want any piece of you to go to waste. Even when I’d made it to your bones, I sucked the pieces of meat from the bone and swallowed them all. Your cum was still staining the bed, and it had mixed with your blood. I licked the tangy and sweet fluids from the sheets.
The only thing that I’d kept of yours was your skull.
I added it to the collection next to my father’s, Lee’s, and Anthony’s. You’d be forever immortalized with them. You’d be with me forever. I’d always love you, Elias. By consuming you, I was honoring you and showing you that love.
My mama came home later as I lay beside your skeleton.
She took your bones and buried them down by the swamp. Surely, no one would ever find you there, unless there was some gator or storm that washed you up.
She came back and ushered me from the bed. My mama led me to the bathroom where she’d drawn a warm bath. She ran the sponge across my skin as the blood stained the water a violent red. She dressed me just as she had when I was a child.
In the living room, I sat between her legs as she grabbed the wide-tooth comb and the Blue Magic Grease. Just as she’d always done, she braided my hair.
“It’s okay. We’ll be gone in the morning before they come.”
I held your chain between my fingers.
You’d always be with me forever, Elias.
I told you that this was a love story, right?
End.

















