All is fair in love and cannibalism.

**If I'm being honest, this is a very true story. In fact, a truer story has ne'er been told. No overexaggeration, no embellishment. I stick only to the basic facts here folks.

Several weeks ago, I made my way to the good state of Arizona. Caught up in the excitement of a dear friend's wedding, I decided to explore around the city before I headed to the reception. Music-jammin, gut busting singing, fast roaming in and out of streets is what I could have been found doing. I could have singlehandedly put a car full of partying teenaged girls to shame.

In my excitement, I didn't seem to notice how my surroundings were gradually beginning to change. The streets became darker and darker, growing ever increasingly less friendly, when before I knew it, I found myself in the midst of complete slum. The "houses" were shabby and colorless, barely standing. Even the word shack would be generous--maybe only something more than cardboard boxes. As I crept through the street in my car, my heart started to beat faster, and I knew my situation was becoming more dire with every half inch I crept forward, my prognosis growing ever worse with every second as glimpses of movement caught my eye every which way.


Before I could act on the heavy, foreboding feeling draping itself over my soul, people began to emerge from the hovels, and before I knew it, my car was surrounded, people grabbing at my doors, hands reaching for my body. My terror too debilitating, their strength too overcoming, there was nothing I could do but allow myself to the forced surrender. The next thing I knew, I was huddling in a corner of one of the nicer shanties, owned by a young man, who happened to be the next on the list for the claim of the next captive--me. The man seemed full of pleasantries, and acted as though he wanted me to be as comfortable as possible during "my stay." If it hadn't been for the fact that he was holding me captive, I might have believed his sincerity.

The longer I observed this neighborhood, and the more I spoke with my owner, the more the horror of the truth that I seemed to know from the beginning sunk in. This was no polygamist colony, sex offender hide out, or serial killer neighborhood, but I was in the midst of a cannibal community, and I was next on the menu. My captivator, who was also to become my partaker, however, did not like to eat his prey right away. He liked to keep them around for a bit first, enjoy their company, make them comfortable, attempt to build some sort of relationship before he dove in for the main course. In some sick, twisted way, I was grateful. He was good at putting my nerves at ease, and it lent me more time to escape.

Escape is exactly what I tried, about every other second to be exact. Whether Captivator Jared (we were on first name basis at this point) was watching or not, run is what I did, and every time, caught is what I was. The more I attempted, the more I learned that just getting up and booking it out the door in plain daylight was not the answer to my predicament. I also learned that this cannibal colony had a rule in favor of their feasts, in which all had to abide by. If a prisoner was able to escape his owner, and stay as such for three whole days, then he would be able to walk away from these cannibals forever, a free soul. What I didn't know was that this had never happened before. The cannibals prided themselves in their superior tracking abilities, and my owner was no different than the rest in this area. I couldn't give up hope though. I had to keep trying. I had a wedding to get to!

For a couple weeks, I tried frantically over and over again to make a run for it, but to no avail. I came close. I came so close. There were times I would last just hours short of three days, but every time, I was found and returned to my doom once more; however, I could not afford to give up. I hid in bordering neighborhoods, I ran hour after hour to get as far away as I could, I tried sneaking and being more discreet about my efforts, I tried hiding out in the colony itself where I hoped would be the last place they would think to look for me.

In all of my efforts, I made myself a reputation. Never before had these freaks witnessed a prisoner with so much determination. In the cannibals' experience, if the prisoners weren't eaten in haste right away, they soon succumbed to the gloom and hopelessness, accepting their untimely fate. I quickly become a joke within the community, known by all as Jared's prisoner who he couldn't keep in his grasp. They kept me around longer and longer for the entertainment factor, curious as to how things would eventually pan out. It became a game. I escaped, Jared found me, repeat. It started to become funny, even to me. Where would I hide next? How long would it take for him to find me this time? I wouldn't have been surprised if bets were being placed on me every time I disappeared. I found myself falling into the game more and more. Feelings of disappointment began to emerge the closer I got to freedom. Not that I wanted to stay, heaven forbid, these people were demented, but my captivator was supposedly unbeatable, and quite frankly, it was fun and thrilling when he "captured" me once more and we could start the game all over again.

One day, by some happenstance, I made it. Just over the required 72 hours to freedom before Jared found me, I was free. The rule could not be broken, and I had to be allowed to walk away, and just like that, I escaped my death. Just like that, the joke was over, and I had the last laugh, only I wasn't laughing. It wasn't until this time that I realized, with the utmost disgust, that I had actually built a friendship with the man that had held me captive and whose plan was to eat me for dinner at some point along the line, and that I would actually miss him. I was convinced, however, that Jared, unlike the others, was indeed kind and sincere, and I was confused by the mismatch of his heart and his lifestyle. In our parting goodbyes, we tossed around some inside jokes, and I teased him that maybe I would drop by every once in a while and try to hide from him for old time's sake. He laughed and agreed that would be nice.

Setting aside our differences, I did indeed return. As time wore on, although I continually opposed his habits, our friendship grew stronger. The world, however, grew ever more evil. I watched as death and carnage reaped the earth. Life became more and more meager, darkness engulfed life, and fear and terror rang out in an epidemic. Werewolves (Fenrir Greyback to be exact. Name that character anybody?) and worse creatures scavenged the earth. Over time, the cannibals grew to be allies with the evil forces suffocating the world. Everyday people woke up in fear that it would be their last day.

One night, after being caught in the dark, I found myself in yet another compromising situation. I began to walk quickly to the safety of my home. The sinking feeling in my heart that darkness only contained malevolent creatures was only confirmed by a stirring in the bushes. I started to jog a little. Before my mind could process anything, I was running at breakneck speed as Fenrir Greyback was tailing me, ready to pounce and sink his teeth into my skin. He was rapidly gaining, and there was no way I could see any escape. Without thinking, I stopped, covered my head, and turned toward him while screaming at the top of my lungs, "Stop! I'm friends with Jared!" Fenrir immediately stopped, laughed, and instantly knew exactly who I was. And because of my connection with Jared and my reputation amongst the cannibals, I was safe and had immunity from then on. Despite my automatic safety, I felt helpless, torn, and horrified as I sat by and watched werewolves rip my friends to shreds, and cannibals frantically feast upon my neighbors. There was nothing I could do. Although I did not side with the cannibals or spread any of the destruction myself, I felt I had become a part of the evil because of my ally.

Desperately searching for anything that I could do, I made my way back to the cannibal community in a last ditch effort. I went straight to Jared, and to my disappointment, he had two more captives. I was angry and disillusioned. I knew he was better than this, he knew he was better than this, and I wanted him so badly to abandon his ways. Suddenly, it hit me that I cared so much and was so hurt and upset because we were in love. There you have it, I once fell in love with a cannibal; however, I knew it couldn't last. I plead with Jared to come with me, and leave everything behind, but I was asking too much of him. He couldn't leave his home, his family, everything he had ever known. Beside that, they would track him down. They would mercilessly murder him for betraying their kind. no matter how much he knew the right way, he couldn't leave, and I couldn't ask him to give up his life to do so. I knew I had to choose one way or the other. I couldn't have both, and I knew I couldn't be apart of what his kind stood for. Making my very painful decision, I left and helped the girls escape with me.

With the wind blowing in our faces, we ran for everything we were worth. I knew we had little time before they noticed their missing meals. Just as the colony was about to disappear on the horizon, I looked back with one last longing glance. As my eyes strained in the sun, my heart skipped a beat, and my stomach leapt up into my throat. Jared was there, just behind us, running along with us (precious)! He had made up his mind. He followed his heart, and ran out just moments after we had left. He quickly caught up, but there was no time for celebration. The rest of the cannibals were much closer than I could have expected. We had to keep going, or we would never find ourselves going anywhere again. We moved faster than we thought our bodies capable, and before long, we were starting to lose them. We still couldn't afford to stop. They would gain distance quickly. As the day wore on into dusk, we ran frantically in and out of people's abandoned houses, made our way through garages full of valuables, hid behind piles of great rocks to catch a breath or two before running along over ocean shores and through forests.

No matter how persistent we were in our desperate fleeing, the cannibals were just as persistent. Always just a ways behind, we could never quite shake them. I began to lose hope. We were dealing with the world's best trackers here. We couldn't run forever, yet if we stopped to hide, we would be found within 20 minutes. Dread started to wear us down, and just as we stopped to decide what to do, I woke up from my nights slumber, feeling a bit panicky, but mostly feeling pretty awesome that I just had the most epic, detailed dream of my life, and that I had actually remembered it for once.