Cannibalism is the act of a person eating human flesh. 

My name is Leo.Most people think I fit in well at college. They see a friend. They don't see the predator.

When my classmate Noah disappeared, the police found his body dumped in the jungle and blamed a wild animal. It let them sleep at night. But it wasn’t an animal. It was me. I crave human flesh. I am a cannibal. You’re supposed to be shocked now. Your stomach is supposed to turn.

You want to know why I killed him? He took my money and smirked when he wouldn't return it. A white-hot rage bloomed inside my chest, a violent pulse that demanded satisfaction. I laced his water with sleeping medicine and watched with a mounting, breathless excitement as his eyes rolled back.

When I killed him, the rush was intoxicating. I sliced into his scalp, the blade parting his hair with a sickening shhhk sound. I tore out his brain. It felt heavy, slick, and cold in my bare hands. I dropped it into boiling water, watching the water turn cloudy as I brewed a thick, gray soup. I drank it down, feeling the warm, metallic liquid coat my throat, believing his intelligence would fuse into my own veins.

Next, I peeled his skin. It sheared away from the muscle like wet leather. I fried it, watching the fat pop and sizzle in the pan. When I tasted it, it was intensely salty, the flavor bursting over my tongue. I gouged his eyes out, feeling the wet, visceral pop of the optic nerve, and dropped them into a glass jar where they floated alongside his sliced internal organs.

Then came Julian. We had a grudge, and the hatred rotted in my mind for weeks. I dragged him into the dense forest and knocked him into the dirt. He thought I was weak.

I tied him down tight, and the real fun began. I wanted to hear him break. I poured bubbling, boiled water directly onto his bare skin, watching it blister, turn angry red, and peel away in weeping, raw strips. I cut deep into him, enjoying the heavy resistance of his flesh against my blade.

One by one, I snapped his fingers. Crunch. Crunch. He was screeching—a raw, animalistic sound that filled me with a wild, euphoric laughter. This big, strong man was reduced to tears, sobbing and begging a monster for mercy. I tore the meat from his arm and cooked it, chewing slowly, feeling his physical strength bleed into my own muscles with every swallow. I harvested his eyes and organs, sealing them in glass jars like trophies of my ascension.

The police never questioned a thing. "Animal attack," they whispered.

After that, nothing changed. The world doesn’t care about my sins. It just keeps spinning. My classmates still smile at me in the hallways, completely blind to the hunger in my eyes. Never knowing that they might be my very next meal