Scurrying into an abandoned alleyway, she grins, ripping red gloves from her hands and a mask painted to resemble a doll from her face. It takes her a moment to fully swallow the flesh in her mouth, and then she brings her own hands up to her face, lapping at the blood that caked each finger. For the first time in months, the pangs of hunger that seemed to almost permanently reside in the pit of her stomach are gone, and she is content.

“…Seems that today is Poemi’s lucky day…!
        What a shtupid little boy, leaving his family to go explore– almost as shtupid as all the others–”

Her voice wavers with excitement as she speaks. If only for a moment, she pauses to laugh breathlessly, gnawing at her own fingers all the while, as if trying to suck every last drop of the child’s blood out of her own skin.

“…Should’ve left some for Daddy.
                                                        Oh,
                                                               well.
                                                                       He’d be proud, anyways…”