[ WP ] Set a story under or above Paris at night .

I like it here. The cold and damp comfort me, a lover's caress before a night of passion. The walls are stone but the dirt seeps through anyway. The dirt and the crawlers. 
 
 I've started eating the latter, there's not much else to be had. The corpses are turned to bones, and juicy bits I want are locked away anyway. I had always wanted to eat a king. 
 
 The body I brought in with me is all but gone. I'm saving the last of her for later. 
 
 These catacombs are my home. The skulls my only friends. I sing to them, when the silence is too crushing. Funny, I've heard voices all my life yet down here they do not speak. 
 
 Another benefit of my home. 
 
 The first home I've ever really had. 
 
 In Paris I'm a freak. A loser. A psychopath. 
 
 Here I am home. 
 
 Here there is no night, or day. 
 
 No normal people or freaks. 
 
 Nothing but cannibals and corpses. 

