10 Nov My Girlfriend is a Cannibal
“My Girlfriend is a Cannibal”
Written by Andy Leavy Edited by Craig Groshek Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek Narrated by N/ACopyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on CreepypastaStories.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).
🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available
⏰ ESTIMATED READING TIME — 11 minutes
A horrible curse befell my girlfriend and now she can only eat human meat…and I’m her personal butcher.
It all started two years ago when my girlfriend became very ill and struggled to eat. Anything she did eat would usually come back up a few minutes later. At first, the doctors weren’t sure what was wrong with her, theorizing it may be a stomach ulcer, but after her health continued to deteriorate further tests revealed that she wasn’t suffering from stomach ulcers, but instead, stomach cancer. This news shattered our world. Never in a million years could we have guessed it would be cancer. Elaine was in her mid-20s, and I know that doesn’t make you immune, but it sure makes you feel that way.
The cancer was caught pretty late and neither of us had a lot of money, essentially living paycheck to paycheck, so our medical options weren’t great. We live in Buffalo, meaning we were just thirty miles too far south for good and affordable medical care, and with Elaine unable to work I made the choice to take on a second job as a nightly garbage collector. It didn’t pay great, but beggars can’t be choosers. It was at this job, however, that I met Eli Carson. Eli was a wild dude. He was only 30, but looked easily as if he was in his mid-40s, and had a shaved head with a singular rat’s tail hanging out the back. His eyes were dark green, and his face had a long, thick scar going from his right eyebrow down across the bridge of his nose right down to his left cheek. The craziest thing about him, though, is that he grew up in a cult, a sort of off-shoot of the Unification Movement cult set up by the more eccentric members. He told me he had been a member from birth and lived in a commune until he was 19, at which point he escaped. The stories he had from the cult made the night shift go by much quicker but it was once I told him about Elaine’s situation that the funny stories turned serious. Due to his cult links, Eli knew some pretty weird and out-there people, and he put me on to someone who he said could cure Elaine “100%”.
Her name was Madame Arachnia. Eli described her as “the craziest mix of genius and psycho” he’d ever met. He said that she worshipped Eldritch Gods and that she believed H.P. Lovecraft was not a fiction writer but instead a prophet. However, he promised me that no matter how insane her beliefs were that nobody else was better equipped to help.
“I got shot one night while out on a date and I was set to be on crutches for six months, but she had me walking in no time,” he insisted, though I doubted the veracity of the claim. Elaine was quickly running out of options, however, and I couldn’t live with myself if we didn’t try everything we could. So what if it turned out to be a hoax? It wouldn’t change anything about our current situation.
Madame Arachnia worked out of a camp deep in a forest at Niagara Gorge. The camp was designed to look like a circus, including a Big Top tent. Fairy lights hung up all over the camp connecting the multiple tents and teepees that were dispersed throughout. Up in the left corner just beside the Big Top was an animal pen that contained some sheep, goats, cows and horses.
Madame Arachnia’s tent was situated at the back of the camp and guarded by two tall men dressed like jesters. However, instead of the usual colorful attire, they wore all black. They wore skull masks and vests made of bone, as well as coal-black jester’s hats with little skull bells that jingled as they walked. Both men carried four black balloons and one white balloon. They led me into the tent, which unsurprisingly was illuminated by multiple fairy lights draped across the roof. There was a strong smell of burning sage and lavender incense, and the floor was covered in hay that crunched whenever someone took a step. I had assumed that Madame Arachnia would be an old lady covered in warts. I turned out to be very wrong.
When she pulled down her shawl, she revealed a stunningly beautiful woman with a pale, freckled face, bright yellow eyes and a tattoo of a black widow spider around her right eye. The sides of her head were shaved, with the jet black hair on top done into a quiff with a white streak dyed into it. On each of her fingers, she wore a golden covering coated with encrusted gems and she had the letters H and P tattooed on the backs of her left and right hands, respectively.
“Samuel, I’m guessing?” she said while pulling off her shawl as I approached. Her amber eyes stared directly into mine as if she was trying to peer into my soul.
“That’s me, though most people call me Sam,” I responded while pulling out the wicker chair from under the table so that I could take a seat.
“Well, Sam, I understand your dear Elaine has been attacked by a horrible disease,” she replied as she picked a small black satin sack off the floor and placed it on the table, its glass contents rattling around inside as she did.
“Yep, stomach cancer. We’ve tried everything that we could afford but nothing’s worked, and I don’t know how long she has left,” I explained while biting my lip. I found it hard to discuss these matters with anyone without bursting into tears. Madame sat in silence with her fingers crossed for a few seconds to allow me to regain my composure. Once I did, she continued.
“Cancer is a horrible thing. To me, it is the greatest evil in our universe. It turns our body against us and kills us slowly from the inside, a truly reprehensible disease. People beg their God to cure them, but more often than not, neither their God nor their doctor can do anything for them,” she replied as she put her hand into the sack and began to rummage around inside. “However, the Old Ones would never allow a servant to die such a horrible death.”
After rummaging around for a bit, she eventually pulled out a glass vial with a cardboard cork at the top. The vial was full of a crimson substance that swirled around in the glass. Madame Arachnia placed the vial into my hand. Then, with her hand, she closed mine over the vile. She held my hand in-between both of hers and looked me in the eye again.
“I made this concoction especially for your Elaine. She should drink this as soon as possible and then rest. It’ll clear her of all ailments and strengthen her stomach in no time.”
I’m not sure if it was her confidence or my desire to want her to be correct, or maybe a mix of both, but at that moment I completely believed Madame Arachnia. This was going to work.
“Thank you so much. What do I owe you?” I asked her as I pulled an envelope out of my jacket which contained $3000 dollars – my entire savings.
“Oh, monetary gain means little to me. Elaine’s return to health will be of use to my Gods. Appeasing them means much more to me than any piece of paper assigned an arbitrary value,” Madame Arachnia replied as she lifted her hand up and gestured for me to put the money away.
There had been many red flags from my trip to the camp, but this should have been the biggest. Nobody does anything for free whether they take money or not. In some way they expect to be rewarded for what they have done. At the time, however, I didn’t think about that. I just thought Madame was some sort of saint doing good deeds in the name of some misplaced belief in fictional Gods… How wrong I turned out to be.
The first four days after Elaine had taken the potion were no different than usual, and I started to believe we had fallen for a stupid hoax. I was angry at myself for falling for such an obviously fake cure and I was even angrier for having put Elaine through more stress, getting her hopes up again for nothing. On the fifth day, though, things changed for the better. Elaine woke up and seemed to be doing much better. The color had come back to her face and she was full of energy. Her beautiful smile touched each of her rosy red cheeks in the morning when she woke me up to tell me how amazing she felt. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw how great she looked. If it weren’t for the weight loss you wouldn’t have believed that she was a cancer patient. However, the good feelings didn’t last, as she immediately vomited when she ate some toast that I had made for her. We were both shocked when she threw up, and I could tell how much effort Elaine was putting in to stop herself from exploding into tears. It had seemed that we found a cure, but after she threw up it became apparent it had only been a placebo…
Except it wasn’t.
We decided to go to the hospital for a checkup hoping that the potion may have fought back some of the cancer, not enough to return Elaine’s appetite but enough to give her back some energy and to give us a fighting chance. However, when the test results came back the doctors were dumbfounded. The cancer was completely gone! There was no trace of it at all; her physicians couldn’t believe their eyes. Elaine sat in silent shock upon hearing the news, only coming out of it when I threw my arms over her.
“I’m alive…” she said before beginning to cry as I held her tight in my arms.
The doctors informed us that Elaine throwing up while eating was most likely just her body getting used to regular food again and that things would soon return to normal. They told us to ensure that she only ate small portions and soup for the time being, which is all she could usually stomach when she was sick. However, over the next few days, she couldn’t even stomach that. Four days had passed since she got the all-clear and she couldn’t even eat some toast and soup. The rest of her body had been cured but it seemed like her stomach had deteriorated. I decided I needed to meet with Madame Arachnia again. If anyone had answers, it was her… I just wish the answers I received had been different.
When I reached the camp I was once again greeted by the creepy jesters who walked me into Madame’s tent. I explained to her that the potion had worked but that Elaine couldn’t eat no matter what we tried. Her response to this took my own appetite away from me.
“Well, of course, she can’t eat. You aren’t feeding her the right meat,” she said as she placed some tarot cards face down on the table, keeping her eyes focused on them as she spoke to me.
“Well, you never told me that there was food she couldn’t eat. What can she eat?” I replied, expecting to get an answer like horse or rat. However, the answer was much, much worse.
“Humans,” she replied as she lifted her head to finally look at me and grin. My heart sank into my stomach upon hearing this, and I began to sweat profusely before lashing out in anger.
“DON’T JOKE WITH ME!” I screamed as I jumped up from my seat and pounded a closed fist against the table, causing the tarot cards to fly off and flutter to the floor. Both of the jesters took a step forward, preparing to attack me, but Madame ordered them to step back before beckoning for me to retake my seat.
“Sit down and relax, Sam. I am not joking. My potions aren’t a miracle. They cure, but they need something in return. In this case, Elaine’s stomach has been modified to fight off all infections and diseases but in return, she can only eat her fellow humans,” she explained as she reached her right hand out and called for one of the jesters, who then carried over a lunch box and placed it on the table, opening it up to reveal a liver.
“This is a human liver. Take it home and cook it for about six minutes on each side, then serve it. It’ll be the tastiest meal Elaine has ever had, and once she has had the taste for human meat she’ll never want to go back. Not that she has a choice,” Arachnia said before starting to chuckle as she placed the top back on the box and slid it across the table to me. The anger I had felt before quadrupled as I sat there being mocked. However, I took a few deep breaths and composed myself knowing that Madame’s two goons might not be held back by her a second time if I lost it again.
“And how do I know this is a human liver? This could easily just be a liver from one of your animals. I want you to stop playing around with me and give me a proper answer. Stop this frustrating joke, please,” I calmly replied as I sat back in my seat and crossed my arms. Madame didn’t immediately respond. Instead, she turned her head to look at the jester to the left of her and nodded to him. Once she did he walked away to the back of the tent, coming back a moment later with a plastic bag slung over his shoulder. He walked up to the table and dropped the bag directly onto it. The full weight of the bag hit the tabletop with a loud thud before a head rolled out from it… a human head.
Once the head rolled out, I leaped from my seat and screamed before the jester put both hands on my shoulders and forced me back down into the chair, hoarsely ordering me to “sit now”.
“We don’t do jokes around here, Samuel. If I say something, I mean it,” Madame Arachnia said with a serious tone, though I was no longer looking at her. My eyes were transfixed on the detached head sitting on the table in front of me. The head looked to have belonged to an older man in either his 40s or 50s, judging from his wrinkled face, long grey hair, and the bald spots dispersed throughout. His facial expression was one of immense pain, and his eyes had been gouged out. I started to wonder what this man had done to earn such a fate, but that mattered little to me. What did matter, however, was how dangerous Madame Arachnia was. My right leg twitched uncontrollably underneath the table as she spoke, fearing that I may face the same fate as this man.
“Now, take that lunchbox, leave this camp, and never dare return. The boys will see you out,” Madame Arachnia said as the jesters approached me and lifted me out of the chair. One of them handed me the lunchbox before both walked me out of the camp and back to civilization.
When I got home I cooked the liver just as Madame had told me to, and just as she predicted Elaine loved it, but more importantly, she was able to keep it down. I waited until the next day to see if she was able to keep it all down before sitting her down and explaining to her that she had consumed a man’s liver. At first, she thought it was a joke, but once I assured her it wasn’t she understandably slapped me across the face and stormed off, leaving me alone with a deep red hand-shaped mark on my face.
She didn’t return until later that night, but when she did she was much calmer than when she left. It was that night that we accepted we only had two choices going forward: we could either do what needed to be done, or allow Elaine to starve. The latter was never an option and there was no “plan B”, so it was obvious that we would need to kill to keep Elaine alive. I said that I would do it as I had gotten us into this mess. We are, or should I say, were, both pretty non-violent people, so jumping straight into murdering people wasn’t easy. We knew we couldn’t just kill anyone, and so Elaine decided that we would choose certain people, people who deserved to die.
So, that explains why I’m sitting in a parking lot across from a 24-hour gym at 1 a.m. waiting for the right person to leave. The right person was Jack Werther, a 33-year-old fitness aficionado. He needed to keep himself in top shape to impress the ladies, but when I say ladies, I should really say girls… young girls. Jack usually likes them between 13 and 16, and he was into some pretty weird stuff. I know this because Jack has been texting back and forth with Elaine for the last three weeks. He’s been led to believe that she’s a 14-year-old girl.
I’ve done this a few times now, so you might assume I was getting used to it, but if I’m being honest, I dread doing this every time. I struggle to sleep for days once I notice that meat is running low. Thankfully, I don’t have to do this too often. A whole human lasts quite a while, but not as long as you’d expect since it’s all Elaine can eat. Most of the body can be used, bar the head, hands and feet, which she struggles to eat. She especially enjoys the eyes, which she blends up like a smoothie.
I wish Elaine would have picked a weaker, less fitness-loving meal, but we take what we can get, and besides, it’s hard to survive multiple shots to the head from a hammer no matter how strong and fit you are. I had to sit and wait for Jack for over two hours. During that time my usual feelings of fear, anxiousness and paranoia subsided as I tried to focus on staying awake. However, Jack eventually left the gym and briskly walked up the quiet, empty street and into the darkness. Once I saw him leave, I grabbed the hammer out of my bag and followed after him.
Time for dinner.
🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available
Written by Andy Leavy Edited by Craig Groshek Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek Narrated by N/A🔔 More stories from author: Andy Leavy
Publisher's Notes: N/A Author's Notes: N/AMore Stories from Author Andy Leavy:
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Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on CreepypastaStories.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).