Wednesday, 29 June 2016

Story #309 - Where's my phone? part 9

"You fuckin' cannibals," is something I never thought I'd say, not even as a joke or to take the mick. "You're eating him up. What's wrong with you?"
In the back of the store, outside, hidden behind a concrete wall with no way to get out other than to jump out.
Doesn't anyone smell this stuff? The half-empty carcass with guts and intestines spilling out? Blood's flowing from everywhere, including their hands and mouths.
These guys, these three guys, armed with two kitchen knives that they probably used to use to carve and clean fish, are gutting up that poor man like they're in the jungle.
"You want to be next, mate? Huh? There's no food in this place. Whatever happened took away everything. We waited an hour for the delivery guy to arrive. We obviously couldn't call him. We had nothing, and we were starving."
"And this bastard? He started swearing at us to bring him the fish. First time I've laid eyes on him and he's this violent. Fuck's sake. So I tells him come in the back with me, you know, because we keep stuff in here, but he attacked me half-way through. James here kicked him in the face and knocked him out. Turns out it killed him. We've been wondering what to do with the body, and since we were pretty hungry, we..."
"Look, mate," says the first guy. "I know it's wrong, but we couldn't do anything about it. What, did you want us to tell the coppers about it? Screw that. We'd be in jail with a lot of guys, and everybody's killin' everybody right now. I don't want none of that."
"There's this one thing, though," James said. The sturdiest of them all. He looks like he could break through the wall. "We told you all this, and you can either keep yer mouth shut, or you can die right now. What'll it be, eh?"

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