I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I have a disease. I love the way the blood slithers down my throat the way no soda can. I love the way the flesh grinds in between my teeth as I ripped it from their bodies. I’m Elizabeth and I’m a cannibal. I’m telling my story because I can’t live forever in the conditions I am now. My prison cell grows smaller and my hunger for women skin and blood grows larger the longer they keep feeding me these horrible meals of potatoes and bread.
I leaned back on to a wall and started my writing once more.
I remember when I first killed a woman. She was seventeen and had glorious blonde hair down to her waist that hung in perfect curls. She made me long to be with her. My unnatural longings for females are what drove me to her murder. I called my servants to catch her and bring her to the room with the drain. They hurried off and caught my prize, Miss Victoria Richards. She was my virgin blood that would make me beautiful and young again much like the blood that gushed from my servant, Sarah, onto my face when I hit her. Sarah’s blood ridded my face of my wrinkles so I knew that this young virgin would get rid of all of my imperfections.
The servants stripped her and tied her limbs her to the ground where I had my ropes attached to four poles that rose from the ground. Victoria struggled but the ropes proved to be sufficient. I grabbed my thin sharp blade from the table on the end of the wall and leaned down over her body, my heart racing with the impurities from her naked body. I cut small lines on her arms, forehead, and stomach until the blood was draining to where the servants collected it. Victoria screamed and cursed me but I continued on. I smiled at her and gently kissed her on her chest. My kiss turned into voraciousness and turned into bites that pulled off her skin. As she screamed and cried I tore off more and more skin until her cheeks, neck, shoulders, and breast were nothing but bones.
Her blood smeared my make-up but cleared my face and soul of these unnatural wantings of females and aging. I kissed her cool dead lips and pulled my heavier thicker blade from the table. I cut off the skin and was placing it in my pile by the drain so the blood would go to my collection. Once I was done, there laid her body. Nothing but bones and splatters of blood that clinged to her bones were left. I smiled at my handy work and called in my loyal servant, Dennis.
He rushed in and gathered the skin by the drain in a cold metal basket that would be sent to be cooked and fed to the soldiers in war since food supply were low. If I liked the taste of virgin skin, men would twice as much.
I went down to the servant’s quarters where they readied me for a bath. I went into the bathroom with my servant, Margaret standing by for assistance, and laid down in my bath where no water lived. I called for Margaret to fetch my bath ‘water’ and off she went. She came back with ten buckets, five in each hand that hung from a pole. She walked off and stood above my bear body. I always loved the look of want in her eyes. She started to slowly pour in the thick, rich, soothing blood that was gathered from the drain. Nine buckets later she walked away to put the buckets back in position for my next victim.
There I sat with my body immersed in the blood, making my skin younger and more beautiful. The blood would stick my skin when I raised my legs or arms out of the liquid to see the results. The results were marvelous and guaranteed that I would need another. I went back to my servants where they dressed me and to put on my make-up. Margaret was there, eyeing me as they were pulling the dress over my dry body. I smiled at her and she smiled back in some look in her eyes. She made me have those unnatural wantings again.
I thought to myself, “Next.” I went over to help the wounded soldiers and give them the lovely quilts my servants had made as if I had done nothing. I didn’t murder Victoria, I fixed my problems.