Porkum Was Killed—And Cooked

The mutant pig-man's head lay on the factory floor, not three feet from Sue Storm. The flesh had been flash-baked to a delicate golden brown, with crispy black bits around the ragged edges of the neck hole. Porkum's tongue hung out of its mouth, the once-soft skin now shrunken and stretched tight. It smoked softly in the aftermath of the explosion, and the Invisible Woman realized her ears were ringing. Unable to hear anything.

But she could still see. Smell. And taste. Little particles of fried flesh suspended in the air. It was like being trapped inside an over with a baked ham.

Her mouth watered. Her stomach growled.

"No," she said, unable to feel guilt at Porkum's ****. The Invisible Woman had seen **** before, was no stranger to it. Yet normally it invoked pity, nausea, not...hunger.

"Pheromones must still be messing with my head," she said out loud, trying to rationalize her reaction. She still felt weak. Shards of yellow gemstone were embedded in the floor, though fortunately, none had embedded themselves in her flesh. The sickly yellow light of the defraudium was still weakening her muscles, her powers. Sue tried to stand, her wounded thigh throbbed painfully. Yet her eyes remained fixed on Porkum's head.

It wasn't an end she would wish on anyone. Even a demented mutant **** pig-man criminal from another dimension. She bit her lip, fighting the terrible need that tore at her stomach.

"M-maybe I should take the head with me...so Reed can analyze it. Send it back to his home dimension for proper burial. Or something."

That's what she told herself as her hands closed on Porkum's head. She **** herself to her feet, pulling it up after her. She felt, for a moment, like Salome, who had danced before Herod. Her body shook as she stared into his dead eyes.