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Chantler stared at the sunset as he slowly and lightly tossed rocks at the seagulls. His stomach growled with the reminder that he hadn't eaten since the day before. His eyes widened at the thought of his last meal. Dog food. He hadn't had a dog himself but his neighbors did. His neighbors. A nice elderly couple who looked to him to be in their 70's. The image of their rotting corpses sprawled across their bed flashed through his head. Chantler quickly shook the thought away and imagained how good that dog tasted. He diddnt like the dog itself so about a week ago he had discovered it when he went to go look for anything useful left in the house and shot it without any regret. The thing hated Chantler and bite him on several occasions. It was a small terrier with black fur. It only provided him with two days meals. There was half a bag of dog food left that was spilled over in their garage. He guessed that the dog had done that and refused to even think about the other thing that he couldv'e been eating in that house. It was easier to him to think of the things he killed as its and not boys or girls. Living creatures that at one time had a family.

Chantler stood up and took a deep breath of the cool, moiste Florida air. Almost at the bottom on the east side was a small town called Atlantis with just over 2000 residents before The Calling. His parents moved him here some 10 years ago because of the schools. He was now 17. Their house was just across the street from a beach that lined the side of a small natrual harbor. So he was just a stones throw away from the beach. Literaly. He would sit in the driveway and throw rocks from the driveway at the seagulls. He slowly started for his daily walk he took down the beach at sunset. Always hoping to meet somebody that could help him with his food issues. Unlike many others he knew how to make clean water. He had read it in a book about a girl getting trapped in the woods. You place a large pot with some salt water over a small fire and then place a small pot inside with a rock in it so it dosent float. Then you put saran wrap over the small pot and condesation does the rest. Leaving the salt behind. He made lots of it so he had a months surplus in just about every container he could find.

His train of thought was interrupted by a loud scream. He turned towards the noise and found a large dark skined male running towards him with a knife. Chantler quickly started running towards the house but then realized the only logical solution was to fight. He turned around and swiftly pulled a small gun out of his belt. He fumbled hurrily with it trying to get the safety off and paniced as his attacker drew closer and closer. He finnaly held the gun up and shot the gun as tears started to run down his face. The atacker fell over just a few feet away from him as the bullet lodged in his stomach. Chantlers hearing was haulted by a loud ringing noise in his ears from the gunfire. He quickly ran over to the atacker who was curled up into a ball on the ground holding his stomach. He started to crawl away when Chantler started kicking and stomping on him in every way, focusing on his neck and head. He continued on in this way for at least 5 minutes untill he was standing in a pool of blood and the attacker was no longer moving. Chantler had a stady stream of tears running down his face but he knew he was still alive by the unsteady rise and fall of his chest. Chantler drug his body over to the water letting out several sobs along the way. Once there he flipped the unconscious body facedown into the water and kicked him towards the ocean. Chantler then collapsed to the ground and threw up what was in his stomach. Just water and acid. He fell to his side and began to take in what he just did. He killed his first human. He dry heaved a couple of times untill realizing that the guy he just killed had turned to canabalism. Chantler was obviously supposed to be his next meal. The made him feel better about himself but still he couldnt shake the fact that he killed somebody. He tried to stand up but immediantly fell back to his knees. So he started to slowly crawl towards his house untill he was too weak to move. He just collapsed of the beach and layed there. He rolled over and looked above at the orange sky. Seagulls flew over him as if they were taunting him. How in the hell did they stay alive for so long? What were they eating? Definetly not eachother. Chantler thought as he rolled to his side and smilied. He was slowly drifting into a deep sleep untill he realized his raging hunger pains made him realize that the answer to all his problems were flying overhead.

Chantler awoke to the normal beach sounds he was used to. The waves lightly crashing on the shore. Seagulls making their wierd noises. Hearing the seagulls made Chantler smile despite the bad taste in his mouth and the unbearable pain in his stomach. He slowly at up and looked around. There was a blood trail leading to the ocean from the spot that he killed that crazy man. The image flashed through his head for a moment but he quickly shook it away. He stood up and then noticed the many birds flying around. He stared at them for a moment but then started to swiftly walk towards his house once devising a plan to catch them. Throwing things at them would be too hard and if he missed he would scare off the rest. Once at the house, Chantler entered the garage through a side door and immediately started to move boxes around until he found one that had "Cast net" written in sharpie on the top. His dad loved to fish in his spare time and had taught him how to use it. He didn't know where any poles were though or he would already have had food.
Chantler pulled the dark green net out and began to unravel it while walking back down the drive way. Once to the beach he found a small flock waddling around on the soft sand. He swiftly tossed the net and watched it entangle at least five birds. "Yes!" He squealed out as he ran over to the net and pulled out his knife and stabbed three birds. Enough to feed him today. No need in killing too much and wasting it. Wasting food was not an option. He brought the birds back to his house and in under an hour he was back on the beach, relaxing in the sun and filling his stomach.

Chantler sat in the soft sand staring at the seagulls. He decided to take a walk in the opposite direction out of curiosity. He never saw anybody headed toward town but he never even though of going the opposite way. Chantler needed the company of another person. Anything but these stupid birds.
He continued of down the beach until he saw a boy sitting in the sand a couple of houses down. Chantler immediately turned around and ran back to his house assuming that the boy was a cannibal like the man he killed the day before. He made a mental note to drag the grill into the living room for dinner tonight so he wouldn't attract anybody to his house. He hadn't thought of doing that before but then realized how much danger hes been putting himself in. Practically leading people to his house. Chantler sat on the front porch swing and watched the birds more. He was amused by the simple minded creatures. Natures retards. He laughed at the though. Funny though. All he wanted was for some human interaction and when he had the opportunity he ran assuming he was going to be eaten.

Once sunset came Chantler decided to skip his walk figuring that if their were anybody, they would come to him. Instead he scour the area that he had shot the man the day before looking for his gun. He dropped it and hadn't thought about needing it until now. He found the gun in a gas station underneath the counter. Having looked around more he found a box with at least 20 bullets in the managers office. Lucky him. Guns were hard to come by. Good knifes were too. A while back someone started a fire in town that burned down a whole neighborhood. At least 150 house. Chantler was lucky enough to live a long way from town. Only having one neighbor. After their house the road curved and headed in-land along the edge of a state park. That left a long stretch of beach with no houses or businesses.
After finding the gun buried in the sand Chantler cleaned it off and stuck it back in his belt. He then sat in the sand and waited for the sunlight to disappear. Once it was dark he grabbed a half full gas can out of the garage and poured a little on different sections of the pile, making sure not to use too much. Chantler then lite the end of a plant on fire and ran back to his house as the whole pile burst into flames. He then sat on then sat on the porch swing. Hidden behind the trees. Waiting for someone to come along.

"Its, uhm... okay." Chantler said. He smilied a little and then turnd around to glance at the house for a moment. It looked really creepy with the light of the fire illuminating it. "It was my parents." he said as he turned back around. "My apartment was lost in the fire."
Chantler stared at the boy in admiration. He looked so...perfect.
"What are you two doing way out here?" He said still staring at the boy. Chantler ould rip the clothes off of him right now. If the girl werent here he would. Even if had to be rape.

"Not... me but, uhm... what are you two doing way out here anyways?" Chantler half mumbled. He was trying not to stare at the boy but he found himself glancing over at him every moment he could. Around the middle of the responce to his question, Chantler reached out his right hand and placed it on Swen's chest vilolently but not enough to be considered a hit. He then squinted and looked at the girl. "Had to make sure you were real." He said with a serious look on his face, still leaving his hand on Swens's chest. Practically. Orgasmic.