What’s the matter, baby? Aren’t you glad to see me? I’m so hungry. I’ve been waiting for you to feed me!

Lola almost screamed, but caught herself just in time. She closed her eyes and breathed. I’m at work, she thought. On duty. Get your fucking shit together!

As much of a pig as Jennings was, he was her superior. If she showed any signs of weakness, showed that she couldn’t handle the job, there was no question Jennings would report it to his superiors. And then she was screwed. Her job was all she had left.

“I’m…I’m fine. Let’s move.” And without turning her gaze back to Jennings, she popped her door open and jumped out. She jogged toward the front door of the restaurant, paused for another moment as she saw what was happening inside. She drew her gun and threw her shoulder into the glass, slamming it against the wall, then rushed inside, past the bubbling fish tank full of coy, and gasped when she faced the dining room.

A man lay on his stomach under a table just in front of her. It took every ounce of will she had to keep her mind from transforming him into her father. Blood coated his face and clothing. Some of it coagulated and dark, maybe a day old from the looks of it. The family above this man sat at the table and ate happily. As Lola took in the scene, the person who she assumed to be the man of the family stood up and headed toward the buffet which was bustling with other customers. The woman, a perfect ball with limbs, had a chunk of leg missing big enough to fit an apple into. Blood pumped from it rhythmically and washed over the fat man beneath her.

Then he opened his mouth as if to take a bite from the leg. Lola could only assume that he’d been the one to put that gaping hole in it, but she just couldn’t imagine that was true. Why would this man bite into that woman’s leg, and even more disturbing than that, why didn’t she care?

“Don’t move!” Lola pointed her gun, her finger shaking over the trigger.

The man didn’t even know she was there, nor did anyone else in the restaurant. She had expected some kind of chaos when she arrived. Jennings had filled her in on the drive over, said a frantic “chink”—as he put it—had called complaining about a customer that refused to leave and how he’d bitten him on the hand.

She wondered where the chunk of leg was. If the man was emotionally disturbed, and bit this woman, surely he spit out the meat. But Lola didn’t see it and the man, ignoring her orders, clamped his teeth over the woman’s leg and bit down. He hit a different spot this time, tearing a fresh chunk away and…chewed on it. Before Lola could process what she was seeing, the man swallowed.

And the woman just ate and ate. She picked up her drink and let it run into her mouth and over her face and shirt, then went right back to eating. Her skin had already gone pale, and she lost more blood by the second, but she didn’t seem to mind. The food was too important.