Once Upon A Nail

Once upon a time,

   There was a man who lived alone; literally. His relatives had all passed away, but at least he had plenty of friends to compensate with. These friends believed this man was a kind, polite and responsible man and with that, his security grew significantly. After his eight killing, the man decided he was hungry. Bit by bit, he dismembered the body and cooked the cuttings separately in the oven at 280°C fan bake, occasionally basting the meat with the gravy he made from their blood and intestinal fluids. The other uncooked pieces, he stacked nearly on the bench next to him, wrapped firmly in tin foil. He gathered the remaining pink and yellow bones and placed them carefully in a tight-held plastic bag, ready to be cremated and destroyed forever. Then he tipped all the bodily fluids down the drain, squirting a large amount of bleach after it.
Once all the meat was cooked, he arranged all the pieces in separate seal bags. One third, he placed in the freezer. Another third he put in the fridge, and he ate the last third without any difficulty, leaning back in his beloved wooden chair and petting his stomach with satisfaction with the width of his stomach.
It took him exactly eight days to finish the teenage boy off, but upon polishing the very last plate he noticed a roll of fingers. He crammed three into his mouth, marveling at the succulency of the cooked flesh. With the forth finger, he tucked it into his pocket as he carried his plate to the kitchen.
He was overwhelmed with relief; for he had disposed of every piece of the boy's existence except the finger in his pocket, which nudged him teasingly through the fabric as he sauntered down the hallway. Once he reached the bathroom, he turned the shower onto a lukewarm jet and began stripping. He removed the finger from the pocket of his trousers and gnawed on it, as he stepped into the shower. He chewed all the flesh off around the bone, before swallowing the bone itself and flinching. The fingernail proved too irritating to try and chew, so he spat it down the drain of his shower, smiling as the soap suds followed.
That nail will be lost forever, he thought gleefully.
But it stuck on the way down, latching onto globs of shower grime. It stayed there, lurking and waiting in the dark until the police arrived eight days later.