"They raped me and ate my friend alive." Thus starts this work of erotic horror fiction filled with 'sacrilege, blasphemy, and crime' -- written in a style that is part H P Lovecraft, part Marquis de Sade, and part Octave Mirbeau -- "The Cannibal Within" is literally 'wet with sin, slippery with blood, and slimy with fornication.' The novel's central character is part Lara Croft part Sarah Connor. She/We has a choice: the evil may be patiently borne or savagely resisted. We may think we are special -- holy, honoured, valued -- God's chosen primates -- but that is a fraud. The dupes of superhuman forces, we are misfits and abominations. We have no higher purpose -- no saviour god died for our sins--we exist, only because our masters are infatuated with our meat.