On Top of the Food Chain

If the story is written from a character's point of view (POV), it reflects how that character sees the world.

For example:

• If it's written from X's POV and X thinks Z is beautiful, then Z will be described as beautiful.
• If it's written from Y's POV and Y thinks Z is ugly, then Z will be described as ugly, even if others would find Z beautiful.

This way, the descriptions are influenced by each character's personal perspective and feelings.

Manami stood in front of her dressing table, clad only in her underwear, revealing her smooth, alabaster skin. Her complexion was flawless, unnaturally so. There were no blemishes, no unevenness, no wrinkles—except for a burn mark on her left thigh. Her body was perfectly symmetrical: collarbones, face shape, breasts, buttocks, everything about her screamed an unattainable ideal of beauty. It was as if she wasn’t even human, merely attempting to mimic one.

She took out a pair of blue contact lenses from her collection and carefully applied them before moving to her closet. A wave of frustration washed over her as she scanned the section dedicated to dresses. It was filled with either elegant, long gowns or short, provocative dresses suitable for parties. A few sundresses, perfect for the occasion, hung there, but all were stained with blood. She sighed, thinking, ‘I should have bought more dresses.’

Her gaze shifted to the top section. She selected a khaki-colored top she imagined would pair well with a navy blue skirt. But as she scanned the bottom wear section, she frowned. The skirt was nowhere to be found; she remembered it had been burnt yesterday. She cursed silently, searching for alternatives, and settled on a pair of jean shorts. Sighing, she put on her clothes. The shorts were short enough to reveal the burn mark on her left thigh, something she hoped her date wouldn't notice.

She thought of using a concealer, but she had ran out of it as well. Luck was truly not on her side today. After applying her fake freckles makeup, and doing some touch-ups, she was ready.

Today, she planned to enjoy her date, but first, she needed to seduce him, take advantage of his shock, and then savor him. That’s why she chose not to wear the graceful dresses; she wanted something a bit more revealing. Once ready, she left for the café, a mix of excitement and melancholy swirling within her. This would be her last time enjoying someone in Osaka for a while, and she intended to make it memorable.

***

"What happened to your leg?"

The question made her tense, a spark of irritation flaring within her. She hadn't wanted him to notice. For some reason, she felt embarrassed. She had to be perfect. She had to be the most beautiful girl. That’s what her mother wanted from her. That’s what everybody wanted from her. Thinking about how she had gotten that burn mark made her even more irritated.

Yesterday, she visited another of her targets. She had arranged a dinner date and was supposed to meet him at his place before they went out. He was running late, hurriedly ironing his clothes when she arrived.

He wore a revealing tank top that showcased his fibrous muscles and broad physique. Looking at him, Manami felt a surge of desire. She wanted to devour him right then and there. She walked up to him and hugged him from behind.

"What is it?" the man asked, turning around. Manami stepped back and lifted her short skirt, revealing her lacy panties. "I want to do it," she said passionately.

She had planned to do the same thing she did to Kenichi. But this time, the prey fought back. In the brief scuffle, he managed to burn Manami’s thigh with the hot iron. The memory of it only fueled her irritation as she shifted her focus back to Kenichi.

Today was the day she would devour her final, most anticipated prey. She had worked hard to groom all these targets. She loved the look of betrayal and pain just before her prey were killed. And she relished the taste; it was a delicacy to her.

Aside from the satisfaction of devouring Kenichi, Manami had gained something else by grooming him: a newfound love for novels like "The Most Honest Person in the 2 Worlds" and "The Stylish Immortal Scammer." She absolutely adored these books, a small, unexpected pleasure amidst her predatory existence.

***

Pleasure, Manami felt an immense amount of pleasure while she sat near Kenichi's lifeless body, a twisted smile spreading across her face. The emotions he had displayed before his death—frustration, anger, pain, and sadness—fueled an immense pleasure within her.

She bit her lower lip, savoring the memory of his agonizing screams that still echoed in her mind. Her hand slid inside her shorts as she reveled in the aftermath of her kill.

She basked in this perverse ecstasy for a few minutes before her hunger overtook her. She leaned towards his body and began to devour Kenichi, starting with his torso. With a swift motion, she cut it open, causing blood to splatter. The sight of the gore heightened her hunger. A primal satisfaction took over as she indulged in the feast.

"Finally, found you," a voice said from behind her.

Manami froze. She slowly bent backward, arching her spine until she could see the source of the voice from an upside-down perspective. A familiar silhouette loomed in the dim light.

"Manager?" she said, her voice a mixture of surprise and recognition.

“Greetings, dàng fù” A man appeared from the darkness. He wore dark oriental clothing. His long, black silk robe, adorned with intricate gold embroidery, flowed gracefully as he moved. The embroidery shimmered in the dark, making him look even more mysterious.

“I still don’t know what that word means, mister Manager,” Manami said as she took a bite out of Kenichi’s torso. “I hope it’s something good,” She mumbled.

“Well, are you ready to leave now, Emi?” The manager asked in his usual calm and formal tone. “Did you enjoy your final hunt?”

“Yeah, this was the final prey I had in stock. I enjoyed devouring him, because of his nature, the look on his face before he died was the best I’ve ever seen, except for when I killed my mother.” Manami, whose real name was Emi said nonchalantly while feasting.

“You Rakshasas are indeed vile creatures.” The manager commented without a hint of disdain in his tone.

“I think you mean Ghouls, no?” She said as she wiped her mouth with her forearm and stood up. Her eyes glowed dimly with a maroon hue.

“Let’s go.” The manager said as he jumped off of the building.

Emi followed him.

***

In a dimly lit back alley in Nantan, three figures stood silently over the lifeless body of a man who appeared to be in his early thirties. The atmosphere was tense, shadows flickering under the sporadic streetlights. Rika and a man named Endo stood together, their expressions grim, while a woman dressed in a nurse’s outfit faced them.

"I'm sorry, but this is the last body with no relatives in the morgue. I don’t think it’ll be possible to supply you guys next week," the nurse said, her voice tinged with concern.

Endo nodded, his face unreadable. "It's alright, thank you," he replied.

With a curt nod, the nurse turned and left the alley, her footsteps echoing into the night. Rika and Endo quickly set to work, efficiently cutting the body into smaller parts and stuffing them into two duffle bags. The sound of flesh being severed and the sweet metallic scent of blood filled the air, but neither of them faltered. It was a necessary task, one they had grown accustomed to.

Once their grim work was done, they exited the alley. The silence between them was heavy, laden with unspoken thoughts.

Endo glanced at Rika, noticing the deep sadness etched on her face. "I know you don’t like when we have to hunt, but you look very sad today," he observed gently.

Rika sighed, her eyes reflecting a profound sorrow. "A lot of us have been slayed by the Poachers, but losing her felt different. After her death, I just don’t feel alright."

Endo who had forgotten about what had happened a week ago, softened his expression on realization. "You guys had a bond like sisters. So feeling like this was inevitable," he said, his voice soothing. "But don’t worry," he continued, a reassuring smile playing on his lips as he pointed to himself with his thumb, "this older brother of yours will always be with you."

A slight smile appeared on Rika's face, a small comfort amid her pain. The night was cold, and their path was fraught with danger, but at least in that moment, she knew she wasn't alone.