A man, crushed from all sides, whimpered from the pain in his mid-section. His lip quivered and he searched for a way to the front, viciously desperate to put out the raging fire in his belly with piles of saucy meat. He bared his teeth, tried to move, but couldn’t. The boy next to him did the same. The man, unable to move anything but his head, leaned over and clamped his teeth over the boy’s meaty shoulder. His mouth flooded with warmth and his stomach thanked him as he swallowed. The pain dulled, but only for a moment. So he went for another bite. He noticed that the boy was chewing on his fatty side, ripping the skin open and gorging on the soft fat, but he did nothing to stop it. There was another sting from behind, from his other side, somewhere by his leg. But none of that mattered. He took another considerable chunk from the boy’s arm and let the meat melt over his tongue.

The crowd pulsated as it began to eat itself.

The mass of bodies bulged and grew tighter as more joined from the streets. The cries of pain and hunger became a rumbling of wet sound. Their rattling, labored breathing merged together into one terrible, chaotic symphony.

Blood and chunks of ragged meat hit the ground and stained their shins and shoes. They begged for the food, but took what they could get.

Each other.

The glass warped and a spider web of cracks began spreading across it.

FEAST

Juan struggled to get the key into the lock at the back door of the restaurant. He avoided the front because he wasn’t sure if Mr. Chan was still there or not. Sure, he wanted to give the son of a bitch a piece of his mind, fantasizing about getting some form of sweet revenge for ruining his cousin, but right at that moment, he wanted to get in and out as quietly as possible.

He couldn’t believe he was back in the fucking restaurant. After witnessing his cousin gorging himself on human flesh, all he wanted was to be home, with his family, away from this living nightmare.

But Manuel needed him. Manuel was losing control of himself and would hurt others, possibly get himself killed if left unattended. And the only thing that calmed him was the promise of Mr. Chan’s food. He ground his teeth and smacked his lips behind Juan, the Mexican girl’s blood tingeing his skin.

So there he was, using the key he’d just obtained hours earlier to break into the restaurant and feed his cousin. Manuel shook with anticipation as they entered the kitchen.

“General Tso’s chicken. That’s what I want first. A big bowl of that. Then beef and broccoli. Okay, cousin? And then...”

“Quiet, Manuel. We’ll get you the food, but we need to stay quiet.”

Manuel grabbed his stomach and his face twisted with pain. “Then...I want eggrolls, a mountain of eggrolls. And a bowl of pork lo mein. And fried rice. Yeah…ungh.”