Author's Notes: For those few people who read my fics: Yay! I'm back! And I brought with me a love story…. and cannibalism. There's not much else you can say after that. This title is taken from a novel written by Octave Mirbeau in 1898 and the reason that I'm using it is because I've stolen a line from the novel that I thought was especially appropriate for this fic. For those of you who recognize that line: Congratulations! You get a cookie… well, not really.

Also, to clear up any confusion, the narrator is a Taxxon and the cannibalism he is referring to are the instances in history where humans have cannibalized other humans (such as the Donner Party).

The Torture Garden

A Taxxon is a creature only a human can love.

And she does love me, as I love her. I love her more than she'll ever know. She's my mother, my sister, my imaginary lover. Sometimes, I imagine that even if the cage that separated us were gone, my love for her would keep me from devouring her.

But I know that's not true. She knows it too, she understands. They all understand me, in a way that no other creature could. Not even the Yeerk that sits between my brain can understand me as they do. They know what it means to consume the flesh of others, they know what it means to devour their own kind.

In a way, I'm jealous. They feel no guilt, no shame, about the deeds they have done. On the contrary, the flaunt it. Hell, they fantasize about it. What other creature could imagine a man like Hannibal Lector? While I, on the other hand, am haunted by the faces of my victims. How could they stand the disgrace? The absolute horror of it all?

They're savages, that's why. What else are they, I ask you? They are worse savages than I, since possessing the control of their savagery, they persist in it.

Maybe that's really why I love her. She's a worse creature than I could ever be. It makes me feel better, knowing that there is somebody more damned than I. But I know that's not the complete truth. I love her because even though I volunteered for the Yeerk in my head, she doesn't hate me. I love her because even though I ripped the intestines out of my own brother and gulped it down in one bite, she still doesn't hate me.

I suppose that's the biggest reason for my secret love affair. She doesn't hate me. The Andalites look down upon me in disgust and revulsion, the Hork-Bajir recoil in fear and horror, and the Yeerks are mainly just exasperated at their inability to control the hunger. She doesn't look down and she doesn't recoil. She sits in her cage and she talks to me. Just talks. It's nice.

I watch as the Controllers pull her out of the cage and drag her towards the pool. I watch as she begins to throw punches at those holding on to her. She's making the meat very tender for me. I join into the fray.