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Summary
"The blade struck with fervor. Beige skin indented and gave way under the weight of the skiver, the red inside sucking in the sharp end. It swiped upward, left, down with the greediness of a canine lapping at the flesh and ichor left on the bones of a corpse. A small strip of skin was left and rendered useless as it hardly sheathed what lay beneath. Quickly, it was set aside for the insides of Alastor’s abdomen to be exposed. These afflictions came quicker than what he’s grown accustomed to. If his foresight were any better, he could have prevented himself from yelping with each shift of the scalpel.
She really was parched this evening, and he has been in this town long enough to know how the locals get when they go hungry."
...or, Alastor "on his hiatus" from radio, has taken to helping Rosie around her emporium. Whether it's harvesting an unfortunate sinner's insides or having his own scooped out, he's sure to be filling someone's stomach. Who is he to deny any cannibal who wants their fill, especially if it's someone he's dedicated his afterlife to?
Kinktober Day 7: Bloodplay (+ permanent/temporary marks)