Fascinating Fiction

Photo by Quin Stevenson on Unsplash


I’m so cold.

So freakin’ cold.

I can’t stop shaking. My teeth are rattling around in my head. It’s worse than a migraine.

I can’t take it.

I have to find someone. I have to find someone, someone to hold, to snuggle with. I need to share some body heat here, people, and I am willing to do anything for that heat. Anything.


I found someone. I found him.

He’s taking me home with him.

We’re in the shower. He’s kissing me. That’s fine.

The water is so hot. It stings. It breaks up the cold. It breaks into the cold. I am not yet free, but I am getting there.

His tongue is in my mouth. His fingers are wrapped around my head. Whatever he wants, I will give him, because I need to be warm.


Later now, we are in bed. He is asleep, content in his after-sex glow.

My core is like ice, but I feel warmer now. Not warm enough, but this is a good start.

Now, I am hungry.

I walk naked to the kitchen, the air nipping at me in icy little bites, calling the cold back to stroke my flesh. I ignore it. It isn’t enough to hinder me at the moment.

There is bread. I take a knife. I cut myself pieces of meat, long thick hunks, raw and bloody, the way I like them. The bread is necessary right now. I need the extra carbs to battle the cold. This first sandwich is not enough. I need more. I have more.


Three sandwiches later and I am satisfied.

The chill is coming back, lapping at me like a lover who beats me into submission. It’s nasty.

I crawl back into bed with my temporary beloved. The sheets are sticky with his blood. He made a nice meal, but it wasn’t enough. I cut him open now as widely as I can and then I crawl inside.

There is a warmth to be had here. Not enough, but it will do. I sew myself up inside him, filling in the holes I cut with my own bits. It’s only temporary. Inside this body, I can find a female. I can fill her up and take her body over. Perhaps in a woman’s body I will find the warmth I crave.

It’s time to go out and look.