"You're sick,"

Gihotl growled, tossing Neasa aside and crossing his arms.

"You're getting in my way, woman," He huffed in a rather moody tone, glancing briefly down at the body that lay by his feet. The body of a 17 year old boy, if he recalled correctly, that Neasa had been friends with for quite a while. Only for Ados to find out about their friendship and cut it short.

After all, gods weren't supposed to have relationships with humans. Plus; wasn't it rather predatory, their connections? Neasa was thousands of years old. And Brian, the dead teenager, was only 17. Not even a legal adult yet.

So sad that he had to go so soon.

But they were all aware of the little say they had in Ados's requests.

"Eugh, just get it over with. I have to return you to Ados soon, anyway," Neasa tapped her foot on the ground impatiently, staring at Gihotl expectantly.

"I'm not interested in knowing what he wants. It's likely something stupid like-"

"Get on with it, damnit," She would snap, whacking Gihotl on the back of the head in irritance.

"Fine, fine," Gihotl leaned over the body. His long, slender limbs making contact with the ground as he hovered over the young boy's corpse.

His mask practically split into 4 sections. Its once normal form giving way to something. . . . Nightmareish. Horrifying, if anything. As he bore down on the child's flesh.

It tasted bitter.

He didn't like it.

But it was food nevertheless, for the god of corpses.

He grimaced under his mask as the bitter taste of the poor man's blood and flesh were shoved down his throat.

It gave him a sense of being full. As he hadn't eaten in a long time, surely. He always felt guilt after eating someone. But it was the only way to stay alive.

His razor sharp teeth, only revealed by the perfectly shaped pieces of his mask splitting apart dug into flesh like a savage animal. The sound of bones crunching were the only sound filling the forest at this time of day.

His teeth were long. Sharp and lethal. The perfect size for a job like this. It allowed him to rip apart the human body with ease. It was convenient.

Blood was splattered carelessly over his clothes. His baggy hoodie that couldn't be saved from the wretched stench of metallic blood, no matter how many times he washed it. His ripped jeans that were baggy and a size larger.

All of it ruined by his need to eat.

A horrid stench rose from the body. Gashes and rips and tears in the poor boy's back. His clothes hadn't even been removed.

And yet here Gihotl was. Ripping him apart and tearing all of the flesh from the man's bones. Like you would to a chicken leg.

Except this was a human sized chicken leg.

And it wasn't a fucking chicken leg.

Gihotl pulled back for a split second. A long, snake like tongue swiping itself quickly over the shards of his mask that split apart.

And he stood up, looking over at Neasa. A sly grin on his face asthey stared at each other.

"Let's go,"

. . .

"You're sick."