Alexander; Origin of the Cannibal Sororicide, a Fmsk Story
Copyright© 2026 by A duck named TEF
Chapter 1
“Normal? I’ve never really understood ‘normal’ in the more popular sense. I was raised in a cult. My twin sister and I, well, it was fine until Ma and Pa adopted our little brother. I don’t blame him; I do love him. You see, our family has a terrible tradition, and because Ma and Pa had the first set of female twins, we won the lottery ... Allow me to better explain...”
I was born the first of twins, in a small town about three hours away from the closest city with a population higher than one thousand. Our own town had roughly two hundred citizens.
Pa’s family was what you’d call ‘old money’. He came from a family of twin girls and twin boys and a younger sister. Later I would find out there were a lot more, but they didn’t survive. After Great-grandpa passed, Pa was named the head of the family and got the lion’s share of the inheritance.
We were raised on the old family plantation, tending to the livestock Pa would butcher for the market. Pa ran a butcher shop within the town marketplace Monday through Friday, rested on Saturday, and doubled as the town preacher on Sunday. He was a fire and brimstone preacher. Holier-than-thou type really. It never sat well with me. If your god is so loving, why would he kill so many of his creations?
Well, I think Pa wanted to be God. I’m jumping ahead though.
When my sister and I were around nine or ten, Ma and Pa sat us down and told us about our heritage and our family traditions. They told us how things were, and that was that. What Pa said was so, that was so. What Pa said would be, that would be.
My sister ate it up like the good little dutiful daughter. Something about it all didn’t sit right with me, though. Even though we looked a lot alike, we were really night and day. I was as defiant as I could be, but you get beat down enough, you start to be compliant, begrudgingly. Sarah was like Ma; it was an honor to be praised by Pa, and a damnation to upset him in any way.
So, what was it they told us? They told us a history lesson. I’ll try to hit the main points and shorten it a bit...
Many generations ago, the first patriarch of our par’ticaler family line had to see his clan through a terrible famine. There wasn’t nothing around to eat. With too many mouths to feed, something had to be done. The clan needed meat; meat kept a man alive longer than a plant would, not that there were many plants around neither. There weren’t even any rodents left around, and a fly don’t do much for a starving boy. Well, the boy needed to live for sure. He was the one to carry on the family name after all. Well, once the clan had died down to just the patriarch, the matriarch, their only son, and their three daughters, it was decided. At least one of the daughters had to die. It was left to the son to decide which.
Since then, if there was ever twin, or triplet girls born to a family that eventually had a boy, one of the daughters had to die so the family could live.
Sounds like horse shit? I agree. However, the two times the family didn’t abide by the ‘rule’, there was a terrible famine that followed. No rain fell on the plantation until one of the daughters was butchered and feasted upon by the family.
After learn’n about our cannibalistic history and the familial traditions, my sister felt it an honor that one of us would be sacrificed if ever we got a brother to take the family name.
Now, try to understand, we were pretty much raised in a cult household. Pa was heavy-handed, and Ma never spoke up against him. My sister and I were reared at home; we never did go into town until we turned twelve, and that’s only because Pa needed help at the shop. The town had heard about us, but no one ever seen us until then.
Now, my Pa is mighty respected in this town, and everyone loves the meats we raise on the plantation. However, if anyone ever crossed my Pa, well, they manage to ‘leave town’ quite soon after the encounter. So, no one really questioned about why my sister and I were so sheltered. If someone had, I don’t think I’d be in this situation.
I was so relieved when I heard that Ma and Pa was unable to have a male child. I thought my sister and I would be spared for sure; the ‘lottery’ would then go to either my uncles’ family or my mysterious surviving aunt; we never had seen her or her family. At least I don’t recall a visit from her growing up. I’d find out why later.
Then, when we were around fourteen or fifteen, they told us they were adopting a boy.
My sister was so excited. She didn’t seem to realise just what that meant for one of us, or maybe she did, and having been raised by a misogynistic father with a god-complex, she was totally under the influence that dying needlessly to feed the family was an honor.
Well, my brother came along; he was a sweet little thing. Such a gentle nature. Pa was rough on him though, try’n to toughen him up. He still maintained a gentle nature through the outright abuse though. I think that’s why I actually felt close to him, closer than any of my blood relatives.
As he grew, he questioned a lot of things too. Pa ended up tell’n him about our family’s dynamics and traditions earlier than originally planned. My little brother was exposed to things no kid should be, no adult for that matter. Through it all, he was still a good boy and treated Ma, Sis, and me kindly. Pa didn’t like that too much.
Now, by the time it all went down, my sister and I were well into adulthood. We were still prisoners of the plantation though, in more than one way. We didn’t have the support we would need to survive the ‘outside world’, nor did we have paperwork. According to the state, hell, the whole damn country, we didn’t even exist. We had been raised sheltered, and even though I was bolder than my sister, I admit, I was too damn scared to leave. I knew next to nothing about the town, let alone anywhere else.
Sarah was content living like that. She doted on our brother as much as Ma would. He and I had a bit of a different relationship in those days. He liked that I didn’t treat him like a prince, and I liked that he was a good kid.
Soon enough, though, Pa was spending more time with him. He was becoming a man, and would soon ‘take his birthright place’ among the family. That meant either Sarah or myself would be the lamb for slaughter at the next family reunion, and Pa insisted little Alexander be the one to do the process’n.
See, by the time we kids knew how to make a knife cut, we were made to help with butcher’n the livestock. Started with the fowl, then goats, then cattle, and lastly boar. We were the only place in the greater territory that had domesticated boar. It was something Pa was proud to offer in his shop.
Every so often, when I was younger, I would sneak out and see a light in the slaughter shed. I’d hear strange sounds, not like kill’n a member of any livestock. I guess I knew more about our family’s cannibal nature than I realized. One night, little Alexander followed me out; it was shortly after Ma and Pa had ‘the talk’ with him.
“I know they ‘spect me to pick you or Sarah, but I don’t wanna hurt ‘neither of you.” His little voice broke my heart that night, and I held him close, doing all I could to hold back tears. I think that night was when we really became a lot closer.
As the days grew closer to the reunion, I could see a battle within my brother. One look in his eyes and anyone with any empathy could see he was struggling between family tradition and expectations, and his gentle nature. As far as we knew, he had never actually had human before. He tended to avoid a meat dish unless he had a direct hand in preparing it, or if I ate it. We had an understanding after learning about what our family members were.
Sarah, though, she would eat anything. Like I mentioned, she saw it as an honor. Funny how cults can be so seductive. Her mind was so warped she enjoyed partaking of anything Pa would say was a woman’s duty. Yeah, if you’re thinking incest, it happened. I hated it every time Pa took me to bed. Sarah felt honored.
I felt bad for my brother, what he was being raised in, what he was going through, what he was expected to carry on. I can recall one night, Pa took him to the slaughter shed; he had a young lady around my age at the time hanging from meat hooks through her wrists. She had done something to piss off Pa.