Broken hunger
You use a plasma torch igniting the tools until they reach hot red. Meanwhile, each officer takes one tool, like all of you were in an arcane ritual, and in a way, you are.
As second in command is your obligation to start with the preparation of the meat. It is in a way terrifying how humanity has advanced to burn alive someone who until several hours ago, It was your superior, you could say even, that he was your friend.
Step by Step you advance towards the prisoner stripped now of all decorations and regalia, a simple lion man.
The drugs toil over his body is meridian clear without the uniform. The small green boils covering his chest, in massive numbers, reminds you of a putrid moss growing up in a swamp. Rancid purulent blotches creeping up lasciviously until his crotch has become into a festering orgy of infection and rotting torn meat unable of rising again.
You can hear the other officials puking all over the floor until you are the only person sane in the room.
He has to be killed and eaten; It doesn't matter the state of his meat.
"Don't worry, guys. We will select the good parts for the stew. Nobody can say that cats are pussies." You say jokingly trying to set a positive mood in the bridge.
Feeble laughs in the room. All of you have an obligation, and hell, If you will deliver.
The Deck suddenly has become a slaughterhouse, Painful moanings and screams set a bizarre contrast with the so-called The roaring Lion everyone has a limit; even the once Paladin powerhouse
Most of his flesh is pus juiced meatball in a gross display of why you should not use Ambergris drug.
Eventually, with the ribs and the legs, you have enough healthy meat to make the Special Old recipe:
Betrayer Lion's stew
The first step is having a Lion snitch and chop him in tasty little morsels.
"Done. Maybe I am better at cooking than I have thought previously.
Methyl alcohol distilled with a serpent.
Your search in the supplies yes The raspy tongue Snake's Brandi will be exact.
Glutamate, pigman lard, golden mane colouring and several other artificial components. Added to the stew.
The lack of another component besides human and synthetic products have changed the art of cooking radically...
You watch in silence, how your mentor simmers in his old ship. While the officers gulp the entire cantine alcohol. You don't even try to stop that, after all, you are all as dead as the Captain and soon your own bones will end up being thrown to another bonfire.
Carpe diem
Your men. Because they are your men now, they are starting to heat up by the liquors sing a lewd shanty older than the Space travelling. A version of the Good ship Venus
The captain of the slugger
Is now an eager Burger
Declared unfit to banging the shit
From one ship to another
It's good in a way that old traditions remain even if transformed in a cannibalism innuendo song.
You chuckle, cannibalism. So doomed word in ancient times. However, when there is nothing else, The evolution always finds its way. Always.
Finally, the stew is done and the rest of his damaged body was turned into ashes.
You take your spoon and taste the flavour of it ... Actually, pleasant. Maybe too greasy. But far better most of the cantine specials.
Everyone is taking a plate and talking animatedly about the spices and sauce brandy. A perfectly civil social reunion, nice heavy metal music, while all the blood, piss, pus, and gore are discreetly swept away by drones. As everyone knows, the difference between civilization and barbarism is in the quality of the cutlery.
You look at the rest of the stew, In theory, the whole meal should partake in the Officers group.
*Hacker But you give a shit, after all, the entire crew will be dead tomorrow.
"Tim, Share the rest of the meal with the entire crew. The last banquet in space should be a feast!" Your order to the quartermaster; everyone stares at you surprised as this is not what the protocol says.
"But..." you hear an anonymous voice mumbling chorused with the others
"We all be in octopus bellies tomorrow night, so let them enjoy what they can"
The doubts melt as a silent agreement fills the deck.
You are conflicted; it is clear that the law says that the officers should be the ones eating the traitor. However, It just doesn't feel right, let the rest of the crew out.
"A penny for your thoughts, Captain
". Says, Emma while she is sitting in front of you trying to as unsubtle as she can show you her cleverage. You sigh She is clearly drunken with her eyes glittering. She winks away showing her tongue; she is clearly trying to entice you that, or she has a winking addiction.
"Nothing, it is just I feel is sad common crew members should have their part meal too."
"You are the captain, at least until the Octo come and slaughtering us. So screw rules, lol"
You don't reply as you are too busy bitching about her "She has literally said lol. Has she ride the whale too? Interesting"
Felix flattens his fluffy feline ears in disgust. while his entire pure frowns a pure frown mask of annoyance.
"Captain don't, please. That is against law. Only the officers can eat a former Captain alive. Otherwise, we will become savages"
He says while eating a well-seasoned captain's ribs.
I think we should respect the honour of the code, even if we would prefer otherwise"
You observe carefully again, the grim tools of your murdering endeavours. Now cleaned and sterilised. Ready to be used again, and again. Following the Hunger Chain.
"We have eaten Skar, Tomorrow Octopus will eat us The day after..." You drinking and mentally make a toast in honour of the Broken hunger that controls us, that shapes us and destroy us. As we are no more than ravenous people dominated
by an insatiable everlasting craving.
As second in command is your obligation to start with the preparation of the meat. It is in a way terrifying how humanity has advanced to burn alive someone who until several hours ago, It was your superior, you could say even, that he was your friend.
Step by Step you advance towards the prisoner stripped now of all decorations and regalia, a simple lion man.
The drugs toil over his body is meridian clear without the uniform. The small green boils covering his chest, in massive numbers, reminds you of a putrid moss growing up in a swamp. Rancid purulent blotches creeping up lasciviously until his crotch has become into a festering orgy of infection and rotting torn meat unable of rising again.
You can hear the other officials puking all over the floor until you are the only person sane in the room.
He has to be killed and eaten; It doesn't matter the state of his meat.
"Don't worry, guys. We will select the good parts for the stew. Nobody can say that cats are pussies." You say jokingly trying to set a positive mood in the bridge.
Feeble laughs in the room. All of you have an obligation, and hell, If you will deliver.
The Deck suddenly has become a slaughterhouse, Painful moanings and screams set a bizarre contrast with the so-called The roaring Lion everyone has a limit; even the once Paladin powerhouse
Most of his flesh is pus juiced meatball in a gross display of why you should not use Ambergris drug.
Eventually, with the ribs and the legs, you have enough healthy meat to make the Special Old recipe:
Betrayer Lion's stew
The first step is having a Lion snitch and chop him in tasty little morsels.
"Done. Maybe I am better at cooking than I have thought previously.
Methyl alcohol distilled with a serpent.
Your search in the supplies yes The raspy tongue Snake's Brandi will be exact.
Glutamate, pigman lard, golden mane colouring and several other artificial components. Added to the stew.
The lack of another component besides human and synthetic products have changed the art of cooking radically...
You watch in silence, how your mentor simmers in his old ship. While the officers gulp the entire cantine alcohol. You don't even try to stop that, after all, you are all as dead as the Captain and soon your own bones will end up being thrown to another bonfire.
Carpe diem
Your men. Because they are your men now, they are starting to heat up by the liquors sing a lewd shanty older than the Space travelling. A version of the Good ship Venus
The captain of the slugger
Is now an eager Burger
Declared unfit to banging the shit
From one ship to another
It's good in a way that old traditions remain even if transformed in a cannibalism innuendo song.
You chuckle, cannibalism. So doomed word in ancient times. However, when there is nothing else, The evolution always finds its way. Always.
Finally, the stew is done and the rest of his damaged body was turned into ashes.
You take your spoon and taste the flavour of it ... Actually, pleasant. Maybe too greasy. But far better most of the cantine specials.
Everyone is taking a plate and talking animatedly about the spices and sauce brandy. A perfectly civil social reunion, nice heavy metal music, while all the blood, piss, pus, and gore are discreetly swept away by drones. As everyone knows, the difference between civilization and barbarism is in the quality of the cutlery.
You look at the rest of the stew, In theory, the whole meal should partake in the Officers group.
*Hacker But you give a shit, after all, the entire crew will be dead tomorrow.
"Tim, Share the rest of the meal with the entire crew. The last banquet in space should be a feast!" Your order to the quartermaster; everyone stares at you surprised as this is not what the protocol says.
"But..." you hear an anonymous voice mumbling chorused with the others
"We all be in octopus bellies tomorrow night, so let them enjoy what they can"
The doubts melt as a silent agreement fills the deck.
You are conflicted; it is clear that the law says that the officers should be the ones eating the traitor. However, It just doesn't feel right, let the rest of the crew out.
"A penny for your thoughts, Captain
". Says, Emma while she is sitting in front of you trying to as unsubtle as she can show you her cleverage. You sigh She is clearly drunken with her eyes glittering. She winks away showing her tongue; she is clearly trying to entice you that, or she has a winking addiction.
"Nothing, it is just I feel is sad common crew members should have their part meal too."
"You are the captain, at least until the Octo come and slaughtering us. So screw rules, lol"
You don't reply as you are too busy bitching about her "She has literally said lol. Has she ride the whale too? Interesting"
Felix flattens his fluffy feline ears in disgust. while his entire pure frowns a pure frown mask of annoyance.
"Captain don't, please. That is against law. Only the officers can eat a former Captain alive. Otherwise, we will become savages"
He says while eating a well-seasoned captain's ribs.
I think we should respect the honour of the code, even if we would prefer otherwise"
You observe carefully again, the grim tools of your murdering endeavours. Now cleaned and sterilised. Ready to be used again, and again. Following the Hunger Chain.
"We have eaten Skar, Tomorrow Octopus will eat us The day after..." You drinking and mentally make a toast in honour of the Broken hunger that controls us, that shapes us and destroy us. As we are no more than ravenous people dominated
by an insatiable everlasting craving.