Page 140 - TheRedSon_PrintInterior_430pp_5.5x8.5_9-22-2019_v1

what kind of song we were singing. We buried the woman
under our combined weight.
“I was still singing when I ripped and tore at her with my
thin painted fingernails. Yet there was something missing
from my song, something that my new family had long
understood, that my stomach had been burning for. Then it
came to me—I plunged my teeth into the woman’s chest and
ate out her heart.
“You should have heard us howl! I was laughing and
gorging at the same time, hugging and kissing my new
family. The blood was everywhere, all over my clothes and
hands, drizzling down the back of my throat. It was glorious!
I was happy, and I was safe. I was home.
“I wasn’t scared anymore. I didn’t even miss the old
world. In fact, I wanted nothing more to do with it. It’s
surprising how quickly you can change when you have to.
And that was just the beginning. We would change so much
more by the time the rest of the world woke up. Speaking
of change, I finally got rid of those lousy slippers. The red
sneakers were a perfect fit.
“I found the world much more to my liking back then,
when everything was simply meat and darkness. Even though
I was built from Sunday shoes and daytime television, it was
the absence of all those things that really cleared me up and
put a good sharp edge on me. The Darkness made me aware
of what I could be, showed me my calling, I guess you could
say. But all that was just a big pile of dry kindling for the fire
in my belly, a fire that was just as gigantic as was the world’s
supply of thick, delicious meat. The fire burned so bright, I
could actually see by it, for God’s sake. It was like the sun
was all nestled up deep inside my guts, shining across the
world through my hunger, letting me see through a spectrum
of gluttony.
“My appetite proved contagious, too. Soon, it spread
to my new family. It burnt away everything that wasn’t
needed—eyes, fur, memories, and all other useless organs
The Red Son | 143