Cannibalism Cw - Tumblr Posts

https://nationalpost.com/news/canada/theyre-not-human-how-19th-century-inuit-coped-with-a-real-life-invasion-of-the-walking-dead

Indigenous groups across the Americas had all encountered Europeans differently. But where other coastal groups such as the Haida or the Mi’kmaq had met white men who were well-fed and well-dressed, the Inuit frequently encountered their future colonizers as small parties on the edge of death.

“I’m sure it terrified people,” said Eber, 91, speaking to the National Post by phone from her Toronto home.

And it’s why, as many as six generations after the events of the Franklin Expedition, Eber was meeting Inuit still raised on stories of the two giant ships that came to the Arctic and discharged columns of death onto the ice.

Inuit nomads had come across streams of men that “didn’t seem to be right.” Maddened by scurvy, botulism or desperation, they were raving in a language the Inuit couldn’t understand. In one case, hunters came across two Franklin Expedition survivors who had been sleeping for days in the hollowed-out corpses of seals.

“They were unrecognizable they were so dirty,” Lena Kingmiatook, a resident of Taloyoak, told Eber.

Mark Tootiak, a stepson of Nicholas Qayutinuaq, related a story to Eber of a group of Inuit who had an early encounter with a small and “hairy” group of Franklin Expedition men evacuating south.

“Later … these Inuit heard that people had seen more white people, a lot more white people, dying,” he said. “They were seen carrying human meat.”

Even Eber’s translator, the late Tommy Anguttitauruq, recounted a goose hunting trip in which he had stumbled upon a Franklin Expedition skeleton still carrying a clay pipe.

By 1850, coves and beaches around King William Island were littered with the disturbing remnants of their advance: Scraps of clothing and camps still littered with their dead occupants. Decades later, researchers would confirm the Inuit accounts of cannibalism when they found bleached human bones with their flesh hacked clean.

“I’ve never in all my life seen any kind of spirit — I’ve heard the sounds they make, but I’ve never seen them with my own eyes,” said the old man who had gone out to investigate the Franklin survivors who had straggled into his camp that day on King William Island.

The figures’ skin was cold but it was not “cold as a fish,” concluded the man. Therefore, he reasoned, they were probably alive.

“They were beings but not Inuit,” he said, according to the account by shaman Nicholas Qayutinuaq.

The figures were too weak to be dangerous, so Inuit women tried to comfort the strangers by inviting them into their igloo.

But close contact only increased their alienness: The men were timid, untalkative and — despite their obvious starvation — they refused to eat.

The men spit out pieces of cooked seal offered to them. They rejected offers of soup. They grabbed jealous hold of their belongings when the Inuit offered to trade.

When the Inuit men returned to the camp from their hunt, they constructed an igloo for the strangers, built them a fire and even outfitted the shelter with three whole seals.

Then, after the white men had gone to sleep, the Inuit quickly packed up their belongings and fled by moonlight.

Whether the pale-skinned visitors were qallunaat or “Indians” — the group determined that staying too long around these “strange people” with iron knives could get them all killed.

“That night they got all their belongings together and took off towards the southwest,” Qayutinuaq told Dorothy Eber.

But the true horror of the encounter wouldn’t be revealed until several months later.

The Inuit had left in such a hurry that they had abandoned several belongings. When a small party went back to the camp to retrieve them, they found an igloo filled with corpses.

The seals were untouched. Instead, the men had eaten each other.

He shouldn’t have been surprised that somebody would find this spot eventually. Gotham was crawling with vermin, both the four-legged and two-legged variety and somewhere deep down, Roman knew he couldn’t have expected his makeshift ‘storage’ to have remained undiscovered indefinitely. Unfortunately the pigs had been making life difficult as of late, combing the city bay for missing persons, forcing him to seek alternative dumping grounds for his unwanted trash. Abandoned buildings like this were a dime a dozen here in the area. Derelict shadows of their former selves, these long-forgotten places provided the perfect refuge for dropheads and other sorts of homeless scum. Weeks had gone by, allowing the pile to steadily grow in size as Roman waited for the heat to die down, the evidence of his crimes becoming too spoiled for anybody to be able to determine their causes of death let alone deduce Black Mask’s guilt. Roman suspected he might have had a visitor when he heard odd sounds echoing from down the hallway. His men shuffled awkwardly, looking to their boss for a signal but Roman quietly raised his hand, indicating for them to be quiet. The sounds continued, strange and almost surreal in nature - somebody was definitely here, or an animal at the very least, prompting them to delve deeper into the shadows with a fresh corpse in tow thinking that if another had discovered this location, adding their body to the pile would only save them the hassle of having to find yet another dumping ground. The light of a torch cut through the darkness, illuminating the fetid tomb. Time had not been kind to the bodies, though the seasonal chill had slowed down their rot somewhat. Roman expected to see an animal amongst them perhaps, drawn here by the stench of carrion or maybe some drug addict who’d spaced out, losing his way in search of a quiet place to shoot up. What he hadn’t expected was to find somebody eating the corpses. One of his men gagged, doubling over and vomiting the contents of his stomach all over the filthy floor. Roman elbowed him out of the way with an idle mutter of “pussy” before turning his attention to their unwelcome guest. His gaze held firm, lingering in disgust on the decaying flesh that the man had wiped off his lips.

”Glad you ain’t gonna insult my intelligence with a bullshit line like that. Would be hard to buy even if I hadn’t just seen you chowing down on a week-dead corpse like a starving man at an all-you-can-eat buffet.” Or smelled him; the freshly-open body was particularly ripe. Roman’s eyes narrowed as they scanned Jules - his surprise upon having stumbled across the morbid scene had made quite him forget about shooting whoever he found in here, at least for the time being anyway. “I’ll be frank. What in the ever-living fuck is wrong with you? Can’t be that down and out you need to eat my goddamn rotting bodies. What’s your name, freak?”

Well then. Jules knew it had to be too good to be true.

His nose drew him to this isolated place, the thick scent of human decay luring him like honey lures a bear. There were bodies here- more than one, although the most recent one was within the last week. Bodies of men with dark thoughts, traitors, violent actions... violent ends. Before Jules had even thought it through he was on his hands and knees, his teeth sinking into a corpse's arm as he chewed through rotten flesh and snapped through bone.

Then someone turned their torch on and Jules' head shot up, the detached arm literally hanging from his mouth. At the very least, they certainly weren't cops... not with one of them having the head of a black skull.

Jules let go of the arm and he wiped off the sloughing flesh from his lips. "Gentleman," he rasped. "I'd tell you it's not what it looks like. But that'd be a poor lie, wouldn't it?"

@masquenoire

for @helluvasins continued from here, because it was too damn precious not to reply to. but no worries if you don't want to make it into a thread, of course!

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Blitz had gotten a good laugh out of sending that cherub a kind note, even though he knew he shouldn't laugh. It really shouldn't be funny--but shit, whenever cherubs were angsty? The imp couldn't help but grin. Yes, Maximus Decimus Meridius, he was entertained. It was nice to know that even angels--if cherubs really counted as angels--were at least emotionally complex enough to get upset...

Although that thought wiped the smile off his face. Yeah, actually, fuck. Fuck. It really wasn't funny that they could be upset. And what if Cletus did ever feel alone down here? Angel meat was delicious--not that Blitz made a habit of trying it, but when he'd gotten an invitation to a cookout over in Cannibal Town, of course he'd gone. It was really just doing one's duty, to help with the cleanup post that whole hotel fiasco. But, angel meat was delicious and there had to be a crap ton of demons in Hell who would love to sprinkle some fucking rosemary on that cherub and slow roast him over a nice lava lake, so... shit. Shit.

"Blitz?" Loona asked, when her adoptive father got up and started pacing in their living room. "Is everything like... okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, Loonie, I just--you know, those fucking cherubs got kicked out of Heaven because of us, and maybe it was all funny shit at the time, nice to see them getting their comeuppance for the shit they pulled, but... I kind of feel responsible."

Loona turned her ears back, expression softening, and shook her head. "You're not, dad. They decided to achieve their goals by any means necessary."

"Yeah. Yeah, the little fartjars did get pretty fuckin violent, but... You good for the evening?" He grabbed his coat and turned to look at her. "I just--now that I know he's actually fucking stuck down here, I want to go see if Cletus is okay."

"Do you... know where he is?"

"Oh yeah, I paid a homeless guy to stalk him all day."

Loona somehow managed not to roll her eyes. "I'll be fine. Have fun with... whatever you're doing." She grunted when he hugged her, but didn't try to pull away.

So, before long, Blitz was in the area Cletus had last been spotted, hunting around for the little fucker. "I'll just see him, smile, wave, then go home. Cause everything's gonna be real fuckin' hunky-dory with that little fucker, I bet. He's a cherub. Why wouldn't everything be fine?"

Blissfully unaware that he was talking to himself out loud, Blitz tipped his sunglasses up and scoured the scene.

This is my OC Matilda is Tmc Aesthetic AU!

Her aesthetic is ✨CannibalCore✨

CannibalCore Matilda's playlist!!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4THd9OqJ7OOLK8vIRJtQyE?si=95d06803ea7849e2