A Series of Strange Writings

Your teeth are that of an omnivore, mostly, both meant to tear and to crush, bastardly things that give away more than just your friendly exterior. Your grin is meant to be welcoming but how do you go about ignoring the canines, pointed more than the rest? Your molars aren't as flat as most and you feel as though that's something to take note of. You smile and yet it is not a smile of a friend, but a threat of violence. They did not know that. Do you enjoy what you have done? The feeling of tearing flesh and sinew with your teeth, the sound of the wet ripping, the smell of metal, the taste of meat. You are warm and red and your friend is painted the same color, but is much colder than you. You swallow and shred, again and again, nails and teeth, you are a monster and you are hungry. The door opens and light hits your crouched form, soaked in the crimson liquid, meat torn by your teeth and you smile a friendly smile at your new friend. You would've looked human, just with teeth a bit too pointed in too many spots, not enough to worry, and nails that are just a bit strangely pointed as well. Yes, you would've looked human before you tasted the flesh of that which you pretend to be. You are hungry, and they are too shocked to run quite yet.