Guess Who's Coming To Dinner?

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A piece of meat cornered by beasts, lured into the trap, and now you're their feast.

They don't kill you, but eat you alive. They like it better when you fight.

They devour you. Teeth ripping through flesh, finding any piece of you to hold on to.

This is fun to them. Wrenching your body, ignoring immutable importation issued into inattentive ears.

You are their prey, passionately prodding private parts without penitence.

They consume you, sharing you around the table until you're nothing but a carcass.

Constantly combating criminal hands, you escape.

Tear stained face and dirt streaked skin, you return home, vigorously scrubbing at raw flesh, it burns.

You're hurt, your heart hardened towards everyone.

You escaped but the damage was done.

They don't follow for they've had their fill.

You weren't their dinner guest, but instead, their kill. 

 

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