The End Of Eating Everything Novels & Stories

"Annie's dead." Jessica kept talking. "Yeah, I heard she died of some stomach cancer the same day I had my surgery. Cancer definitely has something to do with genes. Her mom died of it, now she's dead too. How sad. But it works out for us, right? At least she's not in the way anymore…" I raised my hand, wanting to slap her just like before, but my transparent fingers passed right through her face. The next moment, there was a crisp slap. It was Zach.

Marvelled, Mel finished the meal in a matter of minutes and had one more serving of the delicious meal before she was fully satisfied. “I…I have no words,” she breathed at the end of the meal. “I have never tasted something this good in such a long time!” She shifted, placing the bowl on the grass beside her. The women beamed. “We’re glad you enjoyed this, my lady,” Nora, a young woman spoke up, the excitement evident in her tone. “Thank you, really,” Mel insisted, her hands coming to rest on her slightly bulging stomach. “I hope to have more of this when we return to the settlement.”

"Have you forgotten, Raymond? You gave the house to Tracy. You said you were sick of eating spaghetti bolognese. As for the shoes… At that banquet, you told me I didn't deserve to wear Tracy's dress and had me dragged out by your bodyguards. "I had to walk barefoot from the suburbs back into the city. Stones and pebbles have all cut into the soles of my feet, disfiguring them completely. Every step I took left bloody footprints behind. "And what were you doing then? You were hugging Tracy by the waist as you introduced her to each of your friends." Melanie threw her head back and wiped her tears away. "Also, I've already finished that TV series a long time ago. I don't want to watch it ever

Her face paled as she recalled the scene. "It's all gone. That person, whoever they are, managed to eat the entire cake." The girls almost screamed at this horrifying revelation. Whoever dared to eat and finish that disgusting food was not human! Not human at all!

Blood splattered on the white colored path. In a matter of a few minutes the figure could no longer be seen, not even its feet were left. Everything was devoured. The plant then shrunk to its old size fitting perfectly on its vase. “Were you horrified?” she asked. Edward swallowed hard before opening his mouth. “What just happened?” he asked. “I ate my meal, was it too much for you?” “I see… I apologize for staring while you were eating”

The steam curls between us like a fragile truce. I nibble at the eggs, tasting salt and butter, and feel a twinge of guilt. He didn’t have to do this. I thought survival meant hiding in shadows, surviving on little more than tears. But here, in this bright kitchen, survival looks like ordinary small mercies: a plate balanced in someone else’s hands, a hot drink held out with no judgment. The silence grows comfortable instead of oppressive. I finish eating, and Erik moves the plate away, wiping crumbs off the counter. Then he sits opposite me, clasping his hands.

My hands moved almost on their own as I picked up the fork and started eating. The first bite surprised me. It tasted good. Really good. For a brief moment, I forgot where I was. Hunger took over, and I found myself eating faster than I intended. After a few bites, I slowed down, thinking maybe I could stop. Maybe I had done enough to satisfy them. But then I felt it. The cold presence of the gun pressed lightly against my head. “I said eat,” he reminded me. I didn’t argue again. I finished everything. Every last bite of the pasta, the salad, even the water. I didn’t leave anything behind. By the time I was done, my stomach felt full, but my chest still felt tight.

But the next day, he was found dead in his living room. He had finally given up. He left behind a letter and ended his life with the same dangerous combination that nearly killed me—cephalexin and alcohol. When I returned home, the police gave me the envelope. Inside it was a brief note filled with apologies and well wishes. "I'm sorry, Grace. I was wrong. I hope you find happiness. Congratulations on your marriage. If there's a next life, I hope I'll be the one to chase after you." But if there was indeed a next life, I never wanted to meet him again.

I hear a woman scream. “I DIDN’T EAT YOUR FUCKING FOOD.” A guy yells back. “WHEN I FIND THE BASTARD WHO ATE MY FROZEN YOGURT SOMEONE IS GONNA DIE.” She yells again. I see a guy walking towards us, eating the missing food. Well, this guy is obviously dead. However, he doesn’t seem too worried. I wonder why he is not running to hide. I see the Alpha shake his head.

It wasn’t malice. It was a natural, terrible consequence. The new laws of reality—Jailbreak, Scar, the Song—they empowered aspects of existence that were always there, just… quieter. And End… End drank them in. Fed on them. And it began to dream. Not of sleep. Of finality. Of conclusion. And its dreams… they leak.