You are what you eat

The aroma of cooking meat filled the tiny kitchen. Two months ago the gamey smell made his stomach turn , but now it made his mouth water with anticipation. They had said it would be an acquired taste. They were right.

He stirred the meat gently with a metal flipper, the dark red flesh searing as yellow fat sizzled at the touch of hot metal.  "Rice is about done," he said to no one as he tipped the lid of a pot on the neighbouring burner, allowing a plume of steam to escape toward the stained ceiling.

Leaving the pan to hiss and spit, he took the pot and strained the rice in the dish filled sink, before dumping the steaming white grains onto the chipped plate waiting on the bench top. As he dumped the damp strainer into the sink, he caught a glimpse of himself in the dark of the window.

He stopped. He looked. He admired the figure returning his gaze.

Smiling, he ran a calloused hand down his cheek, fingers scraping across grizzled whiskers. His reflection mimicked the action, caressing a feminine cheek with slender fingers. He smiled a crooked grin at the image.  Full lips parted over perfect teeth in return.

He stared at himself until the tangy aroma from the sizzling pan filled his nostrils again. He took one last longing gaze into the dark background of the  window.

The slender face was no longer beaming back at him. Instead, his own battered visage stared back desperately, as it always eventually did.

Taking the steaming plate to the stove, he turned the burner off and lifted the slivers of seared meat onto the heaped rice, savouring  the rich tang of each slice as he did.

Seating himself at the otherwise bare table,  he stared at the spartan meal before him fork in hand. Putting the fork back down, he reached into the pocket of his threadbare bathrobe, withdrawing  a cheap charm bracelet with a shaking hand.

Several sizes too small for his wrist, the wristlet shone under the fluorescent light. A tiny love heart dangled  gleaming next to a silver bunny. A minute horseshoe hung next to them in his quivering palm.

Closing his eyes, he lowered his head. "You are what you eat." he muttered as his fingers slid over the heart before closing on the bunny.

"You are what you eat," he repeated in a practiced monotone.

Finally his fingers grasped the horseshoe. "You are what you eat," he said again.

Placing the bracelet on the table, he picked up the fork and shovelled a mouthful of rice into his mouth. As he swallowed, he stabbed a slice of browned meat, taking pleasure in the resistance offered by the pierced flesh. Red juice welled around the fork's penetrating tines.

Slowly, teasing himself, he raised the fork to his mouth.

The taste was exquisite, as he knew it would be. As it always was. Juice burst from the morsel as he bit  down on it, bloody and hot.

He savoured every chew before swallowing with a contented moan.

He sat staring at the bracelet, summoning the courage to look in the dark backed window again, eager to see the smooth cheeks of his real face smiling back at him, letting the urge build in him like an approaching storm.

Eyes closed, he stood and faced the window, his breath quickening with each passing  second until he could no longer stand the strain and he opened his eyes.

His breath stopped in his chest.

The face stared  back at him with wide bug eyes over a black round muzzle. The blonde hair he had anticipated was a shining black shell marked with indistinct letters.

The flimsy back door exploded inward as another bug eyed face appeared in the gap. "POLICE," it yelled from behind its own round black muzzle. "Don't move."

The yelling thing advanced into the light of the kitchen, dressed entirely in the same bulky black. It pointed a similarly black pistol at his face.

He remained frozen on the spot, smiling at the smooth cheeked face in the window  as three more barged through the wreckage of the doorway,

The first police man pushed him to the dirty floor. "YOU ARE WHAT YOU EAT" he screamed as his hands were dragged behind his back. He screamed again as he felt the pinch of handcuffs closing around his thick wrists.

"Carl Stregoi, you are under arrest for the murder of Jane Harnen." The policeman began reading his rights. He didn't hear. He caught his reflection in the bug eyed goggles of the police officer rolling him onto his side.

The smooth cheeks were gone.

The full lips were no longer there.

The long blonde mane was now sporadic tufts of grey hair.

"Noooooooo." He moaned as he felt himself lifted.

They pushed him into a truck waiting on the street where a crowd was gathering. "YOU ARE WHAT YOU EAT," he screamed as they shut the heavy door and drove away.