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CHAPTER 1

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GOOD ENOUGH TO EAT

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Once upon a time, a tiny human baby was born. She was named Maggie, by her very nice human parents, the Midnights. And so her full name was Maggie Midnight. Sadly, she was a very short lived human baby. The day she was born was her last. Home from the hospital, asleep in her crib, she was devoured by Biological Mom (mine, not hers), and replaced with me. It happens much more often than you'd think.

Know anybody who's a little weird? Maybe a brother or a sister. Maybe your child. Maybe a parent. Maybe even...YOU. Monsters all. Monsters like me. But don't worry, it doesn't mean we're bad. Just means we might eat you if we get too hungry.

By the way, that wasn't a joke. If my Mom (adopted* Mom) wasn't such a great cook, I'd probably be eating people right now. But her lasagna tastes better than people. Again, not a joke.

* (I know adoptive is the correct term, but I like "adopted" better. Sue me! [Also you must admit that in a sense it was me that adopted her, and not the other way round.])

When I was seven years old, I met my baby brother Jake (when he was born). We'll start the story there. For lack of a better place. But we won't stay there too long. Seven year old me is not all that interesting. Still that was my first solid memory of anything weird ever happening. And yeah, it all revolved around Jake.

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We were in the hospital. Dad was pushing me forward, in a manner that suggested I should not want to go forward because the thing I was being pushed toward would eat me. Mom had been screeching like a tortured banshee all through the night, and I was in no rush to see her for the next week or so. My eyes were wide open with fear.

And there she was lying with my new lil bro in her arms. All tiny and bloody and bald. In the moment I saw his tiny little form (my first baby I'd ever seen up close), all my trepidation was gone. It was love at first sight, you know? I mean not gross pedophile baby love, but good sisterly adorable little girly baby love. My neck was all tingling and I was grinning.

"Oh my god!" I whispered, biting my lip all happy like, whilst eyeballing the strange lil critter eye balling me back.

"Maggie, this is Jake. He's a boy."

I nodded slowly.

"Gimme!" I demanded, my arms extended, and my eyes wide!

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"I dunno, Maggie," Dad said putting his hand on my shoulder. "Yer a little young to be holding babies....Maybe we should wait on that. Jake's real fragile right now and you wouldn't wanna drop him."

"Oh please!" I turned with balled fists, shouting in indignation. "I've never dropped anything in my life!"

My father seemed to think about this for a moment, as if trying to think of an example to prove me wrong. Then he sighed and looked to Mom, who had a similar ponderous look on her face.

"Well I'm sure that's not true," Mom began. "But I suppose you do have a pretty good track record of not dropping things. So...CATCH!!!" she shouted, tossing the baby at me.

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This caused both me and my father to shriek like girls. Fortunately one of us (me) had the presence of mind to dive and catch the baby. (I had to dive because her throw was so awful.)

I laid there on the floor for a sec, holding my baby brother. My heart beating fast. I smiled at how light and soft he was. "Mom you are freaking nutso," I informed her.

"It's called faith Dearie," she informed me. As though she'd just been nominated mother of the year and additionally hadn't just had a look of utter terror on her face as her child went flying in the exact opposite way as the direction she'd intended to chuck him in.

"No, Maggie's right, honey, you're nutso, Honey," Dad said nodding as he lifted me to my feet.

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I turned Jake around, holding him in front of me, eye to eye. His eyes, big and brown like mine and Mom's. "You were right Dad..." I whispered. "He is so much cooler than a puppy."

"Isn't he tho?" Mom agreed, happy for the subject change. "Isn't he the most beautiful little thing?"

I nodded slowly, grinning in awe. "Yeah, he looks good enough to eat," I agreed. And without thinking about it I licked my lips, and opened my mouth real wide, and bit his head. Not hard enough to hurt or anything. Just a soft sort of suckling bite.

My parents giggled.

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"You always were a little, baby biter!" Dad said grinning as he put an arm around a nodding Mom.

"I was?" I said, feeling a strange chill down the side of my spine.

"Oh yeah!" Dad went on. "Other parents wouldn't let their babies play with you because you'd crawl over and bite their heads, just like yer doing to Jake."

"Ooh! That made me so mad!" Mom seethed. "I swear I wanted to kick their butts! I mean what'd they think? That you wanted to eat their babies or something!?"

The chill grew deeper. And my stomach started to rumble. And I started to realized...terrified...where this good feeling was coming from. Little Jake...he wasn't a puppy at all. No he was a donut. A delicious boston creme. Sweet chocolate icing...rich custard on the inside...only better. I licked my lips a little again. My eyes starting to water a little, heart beating fast.

"TOO EMOTIONAL!!! GOTTA GO!!!" I announced loudly, as I handed Dad the donut-I mean the baby- and shot out of the room, faster than a speeding bullet. Faster than Superman.

I ran straight out of the hospital and across town to the bakery, where I immediately ordered all the boston cremes they had, and ate each and every one. Once I felt so horribly sick, I knew I'd never eat another thing in my life, I headed home.

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That night, I couldn't sleep and wound up thinking in front of my bathroom mirror in my PJs with train tracks on 'em, which is where (and in which wardrobe) I tend to think. I thought about Jake and licked my lips, and in that instant I felt something strange happening inside my mouth. A shifting feeling. Breathing heavy, the hairs on the back on my neck (if I had them would've been [I don't, that'd be gross]) standing up, I shifted on my feet, and opened my mouth to see inside.

My mouth opened wider than it generally used to, was the first thing I noticed, this detail was quickly overwhelmed/lapped by a second far more important one. There was a second layer of teeth behind the first. And this second layer, each tooth in it, was long and sharp, each tooth like a tiny ivory blade on a knife. I let out at a shriek of terror and leapt back from the mirror, and as I did the layer of fangs leapt back into the recesses of my gums as if to hide from me as well.