I lay there for a while, reveling in the sensation of fullness. I’ve never been pregnant, so I don’t know whether that feels anything like this, but I know this feels nice. Feeling him shift inside my stomach, elbows and knees prodding me.

And it’s not just physical. It’s a bit of a power trip, I guess. Knowing that I’m now his entire world; he’ll never see or touch anything outside of me ever again. Knowing that every bit of him will soon be a part of me, powering my flesh or my magic or adding another lifetime’s worth of experience to my mental library.

Maybe someday I’ll eat someone whose memories hold the key to unlock the thing that puzzles me the most: exactly what I am. What kind of creature goes around swallowing people whole, then absorbing them?

I long ago stopped feeling any remorse about eating people. I’d have to do it anyway, because sooner or later normal food just stops nourishing me. It wouldn’t do me any good to feel sorry.

And it’s not as if they’re really dying…