The puzzle had been viciously torn apart. Earth was no longer a whole. War had separated each country, leaving each citizen to hide in an isolated darkness. New rules were formed, new leaders were elected, and new worlds were born. Life continued on, only this time, in peace and ignorance. But worlds so small could not survive on their own. Famine, drought, flood, and disease wiped out the weak, and soon, colonies were populated by only a handful. So a remarkable phenomenon happened. All of the ethnicities, cultures, languages, and races hastily ran for one another. Rocks were overturned, barriers were burned, and hands were grasped in agreement. The puzzle was put back together again.

But there were pieces missing. The brutality of the years had killed off hundreds of communities, and only the largest and most powerful were still standing. One smaller world began to replace the large, broken world. And the smaller world was called Kana.

Two mountains pierced the grey, ash ridden sky, enclosing a field. A quaint and tidy village resided in the field, and quaint and tidy people resided in the village. The community was nameless; the constitution had declared that every person live under a single country name, so that one village might not consider itself superior and attack another in war. This miniature village, hidden in the mountains, was one of the few villages in Kana.

Like all the humans now, the people of the village thrived in harmony. Smiles danced on their faces as they passed one another on the street. Bubbles floated from the mouths of the children as they giggled and hopped around their yards. Mothers cradled their babies as if they were china dolls in constant danger of cracking. Beams of sunshine seemed to radiate from the community, cleaning the ashes and dust from the sky.

A high pitched frequency cut through the atmosphere of the Lovelace household, followed by seven, bulging dongs! that pressed against the walls of the rooms, threatening to push them down. The sounds clumsily bounced throughout the house, until they reached the young ears of Eliza Lovelace.

She had been reading Oliver Twist, a supposed “classic” that had been salvaged from the wars. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t have flinched at the alarm of the chimes; however, this time there were seven, and seven chimes meant there was food. Her eyes perked up from the pages, and she fled from the room, book clutched tightly in hand. The floor creaked as she raced to the dining room. Her heart pounded in anticipation for the one meal she would receive all day.

Smiles and laughter welcomed her as she exploded through the stained-glass doors. Aaron’s ginger curls bounced atop his head while golden freckles danced upon his cheeks. “Little brother!” Eliza cheered and playfully rubbed her fingers through his rosy locks. “Who are we having for dinner?”

Augustus Lovelace was perched upon a hand-carved, maple stool on the far side of the granite table. He looked up from his book. Years of strife and hard work had marred him, and as a river forms a canyon, it had eroded deep creases in the skin of his face. Eliza saw the exhaustion in her father’s eyes. Finally, after an unusually long moment of silence, he weakly replied, “Mrs. Edmondson, the school teacher.”

“Isn’t it exciting Liz? Mrs. Edmondson liked to go for jogs in the park during lunch period. I bet she’ll taste really yummy!” Aaron was hopping up and down on his stool erratically; there was a loud pound each time a wooden leg hit the concrete.

She couldn’t help but burst out in a wide grin as she pulled back a stool next to the her hyper sibling. It was exciting. Food was scarce in Kana. It had been evident ever since the remaining countries joined together; the wars had left the earth infertile and desolate, and nearly every other species had been either completely devoured or pronounced too dangerous to eat. For years, people survived on nothing but soil, dead roots, and hope. But eventually, soil turned to dust, roots withered away, and hope faded with the lives of dying survivors. An insanity poisoned the minds of the Kanites. An unwanted war was declared, only this time, every person fought mother nature, and she was winning. The human race was diminishing quickly. Finally, in a last effort to survive, an unusual and disturbing rule was thrown into the society. If they couldn’t eat the earth, then they would eat one another.

Only during the hours between eleven and one at night could one head from each family sneak out in the darkness and choose their victim. Not victim, sacrifice. It was considered honorary to be killed and eaten for the benefit of humanity. Each family was allowed one kill a night, which, depending on the size of the family, was enough to sustain them for a day. There were rules of course. Immediately after slaughter, each body was to be brought to the Swift House, where the Officials would record the death and tag the body. It was a smooth and efficient process, and it monitored criminal activity. Even though killing for nourishment was encouraged, blatant murder was unacceptable.

Human meat was a delicacy. Of course, it was the only delicacy in existence. People lived for eating it. A hungry woman would wait an entire twenty hours just to receive her one bite of the silky, tender meat. Clearly, there wasn’t a whole lot of this food to go around. So, if a murder occurred out of spite, and the body was wasted, there were severe consequences.

Kanites were not idiots. Why kill someone and not eat them? There lifestyle revolved around hunting for sustenance, not pleasure, so murder was very uncommon and rarely even thought about. Everyone knew their duty to their families and to the human race; the world only needed to survive. So they drifted through the weeks in robotic unison, with the knowledge of the unacceptable tucked away in the attics of their minds, and that was that.

Emily Lovelace’s thin physique slid quietly through the doorway at the far end of the small room. Her gangly arms supported a large wooden board above her wispy, blonde head; the board supported their dinner. Smoke followed her out the door from the kitchen, filling the room with the scent of flames and charcoal. She struggled to cross the room with the heavy load as it pressed down on her fragile arms. When she came to the table, she bent forward and slid the dish from her hands to her family. A sigh of exasperation fluttered from her mouth like a moth from a cave, and finally, she allowed herself to smile. “It really is a nice sacrifice, darling,” she breathed to her husband as she quietly took her place across from Eliza. The family admired the young teacher’s body. Mrs. Edmondson was unrecognizable of course, her head had been removed from her shoulders, and her torso was separated from her legs and repositioned so that the meat would fit on the platter. Mr. Lovelace had stripped the skin from the body and hung it out to dry the night before; it would later be soaked and used as a leather for garments. All that remained before them was soft, dark, tender meat, seasoned with sea salt.

Eliza’s mouth watered in anticipation. A slim piece of meat reflected in the water of her blue eyes. She extended her hand out to grasp the section that was her favorite, the forearm. Gracefully, she pulled the piece to her lips and sunk her pearly teeth into the savory flesh. The teacher’s arm bled onto her tongue, so she drank up the sweet liquid. “Mmm mother, this is very well cooked. It even may be one of the best ever,” giggled Eliza. The frail woman looked up from her dish to give a weak smile.

After compliments were exchanged and appreciation was shown, a focused silence filled the room. Each of the four were hard at work grinding the food down with their teeth and swallowing quickly, not taking time to truly savor the delicate, human steak. As it was every night, the wooden slab that once held Mrs. Edmondson, was empty within minutes. With a satisfied stomach and groggy head, Eliza leaned back on her stool. Her little brother followed suit, leaning back so far that his seat almost slipped out from beneath him. Across the table, Mr. and Mrs. Lovelace rested their foreheads in their hands. The deep rivers now looked like canyons as their palms scrunched the skin on their face in exhaustion. It was late. Eliza could see her parents were begging for rest. So undramatically, she rose from her chair, tip toed around the table to her parents, and kissed each one on the cheek. “Do not worry about the platter momma, I will scrub it in the morning. Thank you for another delicious supper.” Then she spun back around a returned to where her brother quietly waited. With arms outstretched, Aaron climbed into the safety of his loving sister’s arms. She pulled his ear to her mouth and whispered, “I think it is time for bed.”

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The room had always smelled of hickory and oak, which made sense, for that was precisely what it was made of. When they first came to the home, Eliza ate up the scent; because it was unfamiliar to her body, she felt as though it was drowning her. Now though, as she lay atop the bug-infested straw mattress, beneath the itchy, polyester quilt, the scent was comforting and barely noticeable. It was just another part of her nighttime routine now, nothing interesting.

An interesting feeling scurried up her nostrils, tickling her senses. It set off an alarm in her head that something wasn’t the same. No longer was it simply the woody scent that filled the room, but now a foreign odor invaded her personal space. It was pine and soil, fresh from the outdoors- they way her father smelled after his nightly hunt.

She rolled over to her right side to check the time. The hand-carved clock that hung above where Aaron was deeply sleeping read eleven o’nine. Hunting hour had just begun, her father would have just left the house with his carving knife and spear. Eliza knew he was not the odor’s carrier.

Anxiety flooded her body; her stomach was suddenly a rocky swimming pool, on the verge of overflowing. Unconsciously, she brought the covers up to her nose, and she breathed heavily into them.

Her young brother lay angelically in the bed next to her. She watched his torso peacefully move up and down under his red, checkered quilt. Scarlet ringlets appeared like a mane, framing his face so that he looked like a lion. Seeing her little brother lay so innocently calmed Eliza, and for a moment, she relaxed.

There was a creak so soft that Eliza was almost convinced it was the wind. But living in a world where your neighbors hunted one another each night, she knew better. Automatically, as if to protect herself, she yanked the quilt higher over her face, so that only her pupils were uncovered. Then right on cue, she felt a presence in the doorway. The dark figure slipped its way across the floor, stopping between the children’s beds. Eliza prepared herself for the onslaught, but to her dismay, the shadow turned from her bed and lurked over the mattress where her little brother was still sound asleep. No. No, they can’t eat him. Her heart pounded louder than her head, yet both seemed to send loud echoes throughout the room. What looked like an arm pulled back from the shadow, and Eliza noticed the glistening of the knife. Instincts took over now, and without hesitation, she leapt from her covers, straight at the intruder.

All ninety pounds of Eliza was latched onto the back of the woman who had wanted to bring Aaron home for dinner. She discovered the shadow was a woman after she had wrapped her thin, bony arms around the figure’s shoulders. The woman had long, black hair, quite unfitted for the tiny body it grew from. It made a good noose for Eliza to grab hold of, and she wrapped it around the woman’s neck. The two struggled back and forth in the darkness; the woman dug her nails into the delicate skin on Eliza’s forearms, trying to defend herself from the makeshift noose that was squeezing tighter around her neck. A loud slamming sound of flesh hitting wood was enough to finally summon the young boy from his slumber. He shot straight out of bed, lunging at the brawling couple, only to find himself knocking over the two. One was alive. One was dead.

With only a single glance at the corpse beneath her, Eliza rushed to her brother, who had shapeshifted into a ball at the edge of the bed. She wrapped a trembling arm around his trembling body, then lovingly wiped the sweat from his brow. “It was just a dream, my little darling. You can go back to sleep.” They rose from the shadows, and the sister silently led the brother back to his bed, tucked him in, and kissed him on the nose. It was just a dream, nothing more.

But the body was still there, decaying into the ridges of the floorboards. Eliza knew it had not been a dream, yet she stood over her victim, unsure of whether or not it was a real body. She kicked it with her toe. It was real. She had never seen a dead body before, even though she had eaten one every night since birth. She had always assumed they were peaceful looking, like a baby laid to rest. Now though, tears came to her eyes as she stared at the mangled, broken woman on the floor of her bedroom. I did not do this. I am not a killer. I do not want this. She wanted to throw up, but realized she would only be hungry for more human if she did. This woman wasn’t going to be devoured. Eliza was not going to let it happen.

Augustus Lovelace stored his tarps in a small, gray shed in the back yard. They were large, plastic, and red, and they were perfect for hauling fresh meat from place to place. Even though she was prohibited from hunting, Eliza had helped her father out with the distribution from time to time, so she knew exactly what she wanted to do. Without making a sound, she snuck the smallest tarp she could find through her house. The woman was bird boned, and Eliza was strong, so it was easy to roll her onto the material and drag her from the house.

There was a ravine on the far end of the city where Kanites rarely visited. It was beyond the rougher part of the village, where many of the once-charming cottages were now infested with hobos and diseased people, and self-proclaimed witches. At night though, these people were hunting for themselves, or hiding from the hunters, so it was simple to pass through the area without being caught. With the tarp dragging and scraping behind her, Eliza did just that.

Hurriedly, she tiptoed down the gravelly streets to the spot where she would bury the body. The area was foggy and damp; the sweet air swept down her throat, making her mouth water in thirst. The hunting hours were nearly over though, she remembered, so there was no time to take a sip from the creek. Thud! The woman flipped out from the tarp into the ditch. Eliza quickly brushed dirt over the dead skin and covered the thick hair with dead leaves. It was hastily done, but before she had the chance to fix her work, her conscience screamed, That is good enough, you need to get home now! No one will see her. No one will find her. So with that, Eliza ran as fast as she could. Her feet pounded the rocky ground all the way home; she didn’t stop until she was back under the scratchy quilt in her room. It smelled of hickory and oak.
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Over the next two days, life continued on. The Lovelace family woke up, went about their work, and ate their dinner at seven, just as they usually did. Aaron seemed as though he had forgotten about the incident, and it made Eliza want to believe that it really was just a horrible dream. That Wednesday however, she learned the bitter reality of what she had done.

The salvaged flatscreen T.V. was tuned to the news channel that morning while the four gathered for their morning talk. At first, only the usual, average information painted the program, but then, the announcer declared a breaking news update. The screen flashed from “mostly sunshine with a slight chance of precipitation” to a barely recognizable mass of flesh, half buried under dirt and leaves. Eliza’s heart sank like an anchor in a pond when she saw the image of her crime. Disregarding her dismay, the newsperson continued on with the broadcast.

“. . .the Officials discovered the body after the hunting hours, around three this morning. The body had not been tagged, and appeared to be left to waste away in the ravine. Because of the severity of the crime, they moved the body to the Swift House, where Officials are investigating for DNA. If you happen to know any information on the crime, you are obligated to alert an Official.”

“Well, you don’t see that very often,” Mrs. Lovelace joked. “It’s really quite an interesting story.”

“I don’t know if it’s interesting, but it’s about time we get a criminal around here to cut up and eat. We are all starving, it will be nice to have a little extra meat on the table for one night.” Eliza looked to her father, who was basking in the idea of more food. So that was the way it was going to be. She would be taken away from her family, and served to her hungry father, who would happily gobble up her bones. She knew they would eventually figure out she was the killer, the one who wasted food. She could only wait.

She waited all day long for them to storm in and remove her from the world. Then finally, the six chimes vibrated the house, and a pounding knock shook the door. All four of the Lovelace members encircled the doorway, unsure of who should answer the knock first. After many long moments, Augustus stepped forward to turn the knob and greet the guest. But the guest was not looking to be greeted. Three Officials immediately stormed through the doorway. Eliza tensed her muscles up so stiff that for a second she feared she would be stuck that way forever. Not that it mattered, she wouldn’t be alive much longer anyway. She prepared herself to be snatched away, unprepared for what was to come.

The Officials swaggered past Augustus, past Emily, and then right past Eliza to Aaron. “The DNA of Aaron Lovelace was found on the body of a woman in the ravine,” they reported. Eliza’s ears went numb. Aaron had never touched the woman, it was impossible to think they could find his DNA. “He is under arrest for failure to tag a body, underage hunting, and wastefulness.” Mrs. Lovelace let out a soft gasp. Mr. Lovelace only looked to the ground in shame. The large, strong hands of the men grabbed the little boy by the shoulders, lifted him high off the floor, and carried him directly from the home to a crisp white, beetle-like vehicle parked on the lawn. Just like that, he was gone.

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They didn’t see him again until an hour later. Tears were still running down Eliza’s face when the seventh chime rang. Somberly, she entered the dining room where her father was reading the newspaper, as he always did. His nonchalant demeanor calmed Eliza. Maybe everything will be okay. she thought. Emily entered with the dinner. “It will be a feast tonight. Your father had a great hunt last night,” she cheered, more enthusiastic than normal. The platter was placed before the three, and a smile escaped from each member, lighting up the room. Cubes of the reddest, juiciest meat she had ever seen lay in front of Eliza. Quickly, they dug in the dish, stacking mountains of the delicacy on their plates.

Savory, salty and sweet blood poured down Eliza’s throat. It was a perfect medium rare, and never before had she tasted anything so good. In awe, she simply had to compliment her mother on such fine cooking.

“Oh, this isn’t from our hunting Liz,” her mother giggled, “your father’s kill is still in the back. This is the appetizer the Officials prepared. They send it out with every criminal remember? Isn’t it spectacular?” A wide grin was plastered on Emily’s face.

Eliza looked back down at her plate. “It really is special,” she replied. Then she laughed, “We will dine like kings tonight!” And with that, she finished off that last bite of her brother.