It was extremely quiet inside the church, yet it was the sort of silence that made you feel at peace.

I stood in front of a sea of black. Nobody was talking. Nobody was smiling.

“We have come together…” I began.

The father started wailing. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. He lost his son so young.

“…to mourn the loss of Damian Yang, who is now in the arms of the Lord in Heaven.”

“He was a lovely young man. His death shall be avenged and justice shall be served.”

I raised my eyes to the heavens. I knew God’s heart was as heavy as theirs.

“Let us pray…”

They chanted the responses with me as I sang psalms from the Bible. Reassuring them that not all was lost.

After the service was over and most of the mourners had left for the reception. The father, Tommy, came up to me. He was a great guy, always smiling, but today his face was blotched like a tomato. He was a hot mess.

“Thank you Pastor,” he said quietly.

I patted him on the back. It was hard for him. I hadn’t seen Tommy in public since his son went missing and was later presumed dead. He locked himself in his house and was nearly mad with grief.

“I’m sorry, Tommy,” I responded. I was crying as well. “May God help you find peace.”

I sat in silence as Tommy finally left, his footsteps echoing down the aisle. Smiling in relief the charade was finally over I finally started to relax.

I went behind to the little alcove where I called home and to my little fridge. I got my snack. There was barely anything left of Damian now, just the remnants of his skull and bits of his brain.

I slurped up the last of my meal, smacking my lips. Damian was delicious, but sadly he was too small to last. It wouldn’t be long before I had to feed again. How can humans stand to be full for hours?

I saw that one of the mourners just now had a little girl around Damian’s age. From personal experience, girls are more delicious than boys…