Part 3 of the spine-tingling (and chop-licking) Creature's Cookbook: Pygmalion.
I am a monster.
The kind that eats people.
Yes, we are real, but do feel free to doubt me — your doubt stocks my freezer.
I have wandered this globe for centuries, cultivating a unique understanding of the human condition — and an epicurean taste for the villain. In the strictest sense, I’m a humanitarian.
Welcome to my diary — where modern skepticism has enabled me to divulge my secrets and my recipes. It has damsels, danger, desire, but unlike fairytales, dire consequence. You will discover a history untold, learn the many culinary uses for blood, and if nothing else, acquire the handy skill of how to spot one of us in a crowd. Or a dimly lit alley.
This sojourn into the dark meat of the soul is an experiment. Fiction, the fried food of the mind, is crippling human intellect and I aim to learn a thing or two. You, as a gentle reader, have one task before you, should you choose to accept it: read this book, contact the author, ask questions, participate, and when the time comes, give your opinion. Are we real, or are humans really the only monsters you need to worry about? Let us see if you can digest this manifesto and know it for the truth it is.
Let us see if you are one of the interesting ones.