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Authors: Anthology

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Part 3: The
Urge

 

The shelter of oblivion
mixed with the bliss of non-existence felt more reassuring than any
promise made by men of flesh and bone. The cold blanket of death
had wrapped itself around Eric Hicks to keep him safe from the
fires of the living. The grip of death even over such a creature as
Hicks, however powerful, acquiescence to the Urge was undeniable.
Even the abyss couldn't deny his body sustenance for long. Hicks
thought about staying in the dark forever, to let his mind slip
away and truly become dead to the world, but he knew better than
that. He knew that his body would rise again and feast on the
living with or without him, to be destroyed or captured for
experimentation and try as he might, Hicks couldn't stand not
caressing the supple skin of another for the rest of
eternity.

Slowly, Hicks' will began to
grow again. His senses came even slower, only allowing his mind to
clear after several hours of patience within the very shell he
willingly left only the day before. Eventually, rigor mortis lost
its hold over his corpse and finger after finger, his undying
life-force began to assert dominance once again. Eric was vaguely
aware of his immediate surroundings and he knew that he was in an
open room upon a table. The bright lights above Eric completely
blinded him and once he reached up to turn them off, he fell back
onto the morgue table. Eric's strength had left him. His mind was
hazy and sluggish, but he was alive again, or rather, undead.
Crossing the threshold of decay played havoc on the mind, but it
also left the body of the person vulnerable to attack. Luckily,
most people didn't go around beheading the bodies of suspicious
corpses anymore.

The room was set up for an
autopsy, and as he was on the table, he could only assume the
worst. A discouraging array of instruments that was lined neatly on
a metal tray to Eric's left tried in vein to gleam in the dimmed
light of the room. These were the instruments that were made
specifically for the utter violation of the human form, the very
sight of such barbaric tools disgusted the cannibal. There were
much better uses for corpses than butchery and burial, if only
someone would have the balls to put Man's short-sighted moral
ambiguity aside. In fact, a morgue was nothing different than a
crude processing plant that didn't function properly. As Eric
looked around, freezers filled with the bodies of the dead were
tucked neatly away behind metal doors like hidden pieces of
secretive gossip that no one wanted to speak of anymore. The dead
were no longer celebrated, at least not in this day and age. In
Hicks' mind, that was a shame.

Eric's body, having lost its
pulse and heartbeat long ago, would be no different than any other
corpse, except for the rigor mortis that had been lifted already.
As weak as Eric was though, the Urge was growing in intensity all
the time. A dull ache at the best of times, the Urge could become a
murderous rage if left unchecked or denied for too long and Hicks
simply didn't have the strength to 'go under' a second time so
quickly after doing so only a day before.

Eric arched his back in
order to straighten his body out on the table. He absolutely
loathed not knowing who he was going to feed on, but this time, he
didn't have much of a choice. He lashed out with his right foot,
sending the tray of instruments clamoring on the floor. Once he
could hear footsteps coming down the hallway, he feigned rigor
mortis and mustered all the self-control he could to be patient for
the prey to come to its devourer.

A young man of no more than
20 years old came around to survey the commotion in the room. He
wore a cacophony of different colors, ranging from the outer blue
garments to having some manner of gothic attire beneath it. There
were scars on the boy's face where he'd taken out his piercings in
preparation for assistance with Mr. Hicks' autopsy. The morgue
assistant cursed the corpse on the table for still having the
shakes and proceeded to pick up the instruments from the
floor.

Eric lifted an eyelid to see
just where the boy was and fortunately, the boy's back was turned.
Hicks rolled off the table with a grace that totally betrayed his
deathly appearance. As Eric approached the boy, he could hear music
coming from the boy’s mp3 player. The charade was dropped and the
cannibal straightened up completely and walked calmly toward the
hapless victim. As Hicks' eyes began to change to their natural
coloration of bloodshot yellow, the young man turned and stared.
Hicks grabbed the man by the throat with an unnatural strength. The
man grabbed a hold of Hicks' arms in an attempt to free himself
from death's grip, but it was no good. Hicks began to smile as he
slowly dragged the boy closer. Before long, the boy's face began to
turn an unhealthy shade of purple and Hicks was bombarded with
punches and kicks, but none of them did any good. The prey had been
caught, the predator triumphant.

Hicks grabbed onto one of
the boy's arms and jerked away hard. In an instant, the attached
shoulder was dislocated. The boy let out a stifled murmur into the
air and Hicks realized that he had to squeeze a little harder to
completely seal off the airway. Hicks twisted the young man's arm
all the way around and held it up, cupping the back of the arm to
his mouth. There, in the sterile autopsy room of the morgue, the
dead had risen to steal life from those who took it for
granted.

 

Part Four: The Willing
Feast

 

Eric Hicks thought the
Thames River looked so beautiful at night. Its surface was nice and
smooth due in no small part to a lack of wind and, as the lights
shined from Canary Wharf, the water was brought to life by a
plethora of colored lights. The reflection of multiple skyscrapers
was a sight that Eric enjoyed no matter where he went because it
showed that mankind did have a capacity for ingenuity and ambition
–both emotions that Hicks held close to his own moral code. But he
wasn't there to fulfill his moral code; he was there to break it.
He wanted to flaunt his actions to the very police that had tried
to put him away. In Eric's mind, it wasn't revenge in the sense
that most people view the emotional response. No, he felt he needed
to give them a little taste of the impossible. Eric Hicks was dead
to the police. They would think the morgue assistant took his body
and ran with it ...until they found the car a couple of days later.
After that, only one man would really know what happened. That man
was unfortunately on Hicks' to-do list.

The morgue assistant's car
was parked on the dock near the water. Hicks got into the driver's
seat and rolled the windows down. He'd torn holes in the trunk of
the car to help sink it and the body wasn't going anywhere anyway.
He reversed the car around 30 feet and then raced toward the water.
Right before the car's front tires touched the wooden pier, he
jumped out and rolled with the momentum. As Eric sat and watched
the car bubble down toward a murky end, he thought more about his
own soon-to-be new assistant in life. His delight was all too
apparent is his smile.

As Eric spent the next day
watching and waiting, he discovered that his body had been reported
stolen by a worker at the city morgue. This had the effect of
amplifying his already considerable presence within the media.
While the turn of events was an inconvenience, it didn't bother
Hicks too much. He'd been avoiding authorities for well over 100
years. The fact that he hadn't been caught after he'd escaped every
time was a testament to his resolve and skill to blend into just
about any western civilization and keep a low profile. He enjoyed
sneaking around to steal the life of those who he deemed worthy. A
battle of the mind was nearly as engaging as a battle of the soul
to Eric, and he did so love to play games of cat and mouse. The
mouse had now become the cat, and it was time to hunt the
prey.

Detective Wilson was easy
enough to look up through phones books and Library internet
computers; it seems Mr. Wilson has been quite popular with
apprehending a wide variety of unsavory sorts over the last 7
years. The anticipation rose in Hicks who could hardly contain glee
for the night to come. Once he found Wilson's address, he went to
check on the place to see what needed to be done to surprise the
cop and to convert him to a different way of thinking. Since the
detective owned a pricey 2-bedroom apartment, Eric decided to keep
an eye on Wilson's apartment by breaking into the adjacent vacant
apartment and listening for people coming down the hall. Eric knew
it was a risk, but by the time anyone knew that he'd broken into
the place, they'd never find him anyway. Not when he was going to
be bunking with the detective from now on, that is.

When Graham Wilson finally
came to his front door at 6:30 in the evening, Eric could see that
the detective had a bad day. His shoulders were slightly slumped
and his head was leaning down slightly. Slow uncertain movements
confirmed that indeed, the detective was going to be off guard
tonight. Eric could only lick his lips and watch intently. There
was nothing between himself and Wilson except a wooden door. Eric
saw the detective's hands fumble around as they dug in his coat to
find the keys to open the door. They were strong hands, and would
serve Wilson well in the days to come. Wilson was also much taller
than Hicks and would need to feed more often, but that wasn't a
problem. London had more neglected people than almost any other
city in the world, and with such resources as those readily
available to a detective, finding food would be much easier. Before
Wilson could open the door, his mobile phone buzzed. As Eric
listened, he heard how Wilson's sister was coming over in around
two hours for some rest and relaxation, as the two hadn't seen each
other in some time. A twisted grin lit up Eric's face. So, company
was to be expected, was it? What lovely news he thought, and family
no less. Eric looked forward to meeting Wilson's sister so he could
get a more broad knowledge of Wilson's familial contacts. Things
were looking better all the time. Eric watched Graham's body
movements to see when the time was right to sneak up to the door.
As Wilson's conversation with his sister geared up about recent
events, Hicks readied his bubble gum and half a credit card for the
right moment. As Graham opened his front door and walked through,
Eric quickly stepped up and pushed the top of the credit card to
the inner doorframe and pulled his body back around the corner in
the hallway. The top of the cut up credit card had bubblegum stuck
to the back of it, and, when the door swung to close, the credit
card would stop the metal tongue of the door from connected with
the doorframe. Eric realized early on in his stay in England that
most doors, even when not locked with key, still wouldn't open,
having built-in locking mechanisms in the door handles where you
could only open the doors from the inside. It was an annoying
feature of these doors, but one that could still be dealt with. As
Eric listened, Wilson continued his conversation on the phone and
was walking further and further away from the door, so Hicks could
only assume his plan worked.

Eric opened Graham's door
ever so gently and peaked in. Graham was still talking to his
sister as he walked into the kitchen. Eric swiftly opened the door
and shut it with care, making sure to take off his little device.
He crawled over behind Graham's couch and stretched his body out
along the length of the nicely made piece of furniture. As Eric
listened to the rather monotonous conversation, he took his shoes
off and tucked them neatly under the couch so he could move around
easier if the need arose. Eric took a quick peak around the couch
to watch as Graham opened his freezer to find something suitable
for dinner. Eric took care of the next potential problem that could
hinder him later. He reached over to the lamp table and unplugged
the wire from the phone and the wall and rested behind the couch
again.

Most people didn't realize
that they had so many instruments around the house that could spell
their own doom. In a day and age where people carried guns and
knives, Eric really saw no need, though the occasional blade did
come in handy at mealtime. He folded the phone wire back on itself,
halving its length and tying one end together. He then wrapped each
end around his hands 3 times. Eric's garrote wire was now at
hand.

As Eric listened, Wilson
told his sister that it was dinnertime and he wanted to have a
shower and eat before she came over. Soon enough, the mobile phone
was turned off and Graham approached the couch. Eric tensed his
legs, ready to shove the couch away from the wall and into the
detective, but there was no need. Wilson's coat landed on the edge
of the couch, its top hanging over the edge and touching the
cannibal's head.

Graham took off his shoes
and his vest and put them next to the couch. Eric soon heard the
snaps that he was waiting for; the detective was taking his gun
holster off and laid it on the couch, gun still safely within. As
Graham walked off down the hallway and into the bathroom, Hicks
reached around the side of the couch and unsnapped the gun from its
enclosure and put the device under the kitchen sink. Hicks was
momentarily startled as he heard the bathroom door open and he
readied his wire, but thankfully, the detective walked into his
bedroom at the end of the hall for some clothes.

Now that Eric had some time,
he looked around the kitchen of his new home. It was very spacious
and there was plenty of countertop space, marble finish, no less.
Eric's finger ran down the marble to the edge of the oven. As Hicks
looked inside to see what was cooking, he pulled open drawers until
he found the utensils lined neatly in separate trays. He pulled out
a filleting knife and pushed the drawer back in. Pain was a
necessary thing in these times. Though pain would Eric's deed be
completed, through his will, would the pain come to a head for the
detective. Eric opened the oven and pulled out the pan of fajitas.
He sat them on the side and opened each one in turn, taking care to
not tear their half-frozen skin. After several slices of the knife,
Eric picked up the pieces of his own flesh and deposited them
within the meaty wraps. Once he put them back into the oven, Eric
took a quick look around in Graham's bedrooms, finding them to be
suitable for the times ahead. Graham was an ordered individual and
kept all his belongings in neat order. This was another essential
quality that Hicks was looking for, because it helped the
transition so much.

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