A girl – unbeknownst to those around her – has innocently fallen prey to a slow, but relentless possession, by some unspeakable evil, cultivating an insatiable desire to eat flesh.

To eat flesh, moreover, that exists only in the demon state of being, requiring the eater to enter into the demon state, in order to obtain it. It is not eating, but the desire to eat that is the affliction, and the affliction that causes the eating.

At such times, the dwelling place of her soul takes the form of a lonely, vaulted tomb; a habitat of ravenous solitude, where every pound of flesh consumed draws her further into fresh unconsecrated eternity.

Then in a fleeting moment of clarity she finds the words,

"…But …I like it …that’s why I want it to stop!…"

There is something not right for a moment – this gravely precarious contradiction slowly unravels, like a crumbling shroud barely concealing an uneasy glimpse of the chains underneath.

There, at the heart of her torment, lying in wait, was another self, vowing to overwhelm the first.

That a person’s will could become so entangled – so completely seduced – that desire for an abomination should itself be the object of aversion, and over the abomination itself, seems as chilling to me as the pitiable consequences of her affliction.

To long for self-destruction – to crave it – is to tread the way, lightly, downhill towards the object of one’s affection.

Here, the feasting begins. And continues. But, there is no dilemma; only desire, and suffering. So, it is mere preamble – an invitation, to that which lies ahead.

Later, the demon will see to ensuring that, for the eater, it is feasting itself that becomes paramount.

When feasting becomes merely devouring, without taste, without sustenance …without end, the invitation finally seized – as self, all that is left, is presented and consumed, like a leftover.

After that, it is the demon who cries, "Bring more..!", and the eater who must serve.

The long-endured suffering – which might once have offered a way out – now bars the exits …so they can neither proceed, nor retreat.

But then, where lies deliverance from the demon invited?

When I do, finally, dig to the bottom, carefully inverting all its twisted notions, there is a nasty shock.

The feeling of …something ..beckoning.

A creeping, malignance grows up from behind me like a moss, as though I am, myself, physically evil – a smiling crust of perfect desolation – and suddenly, cowed, under a heavy mantle of leaden corruption… I have a strange feeling that now there is, too, in my life ...something .. hideous …evil

Something …I can’t quite put my finger on.