Lady Sophia raised one skeletal finger, the bone nearly visible through her translucent skin, and snapped.
The sound echoed through the banquet hall like a gunshot, and instantly the empty tables began to fill. Dishes materialized from nothing, steam rising from serving platters that appeared with wet, organic sounds. The smell hit them immediately--the cloying sweetness of decay mixed with the iron tang of fresh blood and something else, something that made Erel's enhanced senses recoil in disgust.
Well. This is significantly worse than I expected.
The feast that spread before them was a catalog of horrors. The centerpiece was what had once been a human torso, roasted and garnished with herbs that looked suspiciously like fingers. Around it, smaller dishes offered their own nightmares: a soup that bubbled with eyeballs floating in infected-looking broth, a salad made entirely of human hair tossed with chunks of brain matter, and a dessert that resembled a human head with its mouth stuffed with organs arranged like some twisted fruit salad.
"Please," Lady Sophia said, her voice taking on that horrible maternal warmth again, "be seated. My child is so very hungry, and it can only be satisfied by watching you feast."
The thing in her belly gave a violent lurch of excitement, pressing against her skin hard enough that they could see tiny hands and what looked like a mouth opening and closing.
It's watching us. The thing inside her is actually watching us through her skin somehow.
Grey had gone completely white, her hands trembling as she stared at the spread. "You expect us to eat... this?"
"Every morsel," Lady Sophia confirmed, her skeletal hands moving to cradle her distended belly. "My child feeds on your sustenance, draws strength from what nourishes you. The more you consume, the more satisfied it becomes. But..." Her voice took on a warning tone. "Those who do not feast adequately will find themselves becoming part of the next course."
Meaning we have to actually eat this stuff. A lot of it.
Stone was examining the spread, and for the first time since Erel had met him, the soldier looked genuinely shaken. His military composure was cracking as the reality of what they were being asked to do sank in. "This is cannibalism," he said quietly. "We're being asked to eat people."
"Of course you are," Lady Sophia replied cheerfully. "Only the finest ingredients for my child. Now please, be seated. The feast grows cold, and my child grows impatient."
We don't have a choice here. Eat our own kind or become food ourselves.
West was backing away from the table, his face a mask of horror and revulsion. "No. Absolutely not. I took an oath--first, do no harm. I won't... I can't..."
"Then you'll become food yourself," Lady Sophia said matter-of-factly. "My child requires sustenance, and it will take it one way or another. Better to feed it willingly than to force it to collect its own meal."
She's not bluffing. This thing is going to consume someone, and if we don't feed it enough through eating, it'll just eat one of us directly.
Erel approached the table, and immediately his Ouroboros tattoo began to burn with heat. The sensation pulsed stronger as he neared certain dishes--that dessert made his tattoo feel like it was on fire, while other dishes caused only mild warmth.
They reluctantly took their seats around the grotesque banquet. The smell was overwhelming this close--the sweet rot of decomposition mixed with cooking spices that couldn't mask what they were really smelling. Erel could hear Grey's breathing becoming rapid and shallow, the early signs of panic setting in. Stone's jaw was clenched so tight he could hear the soldier's teeth grinding together.
"The cutlery is quite special," Lady Sophia added helpfully, gesturing to the ornate silverware that had appeared beside each plate. "It helps... extract the full flavor from each bite. The memories flow so much more clearly when properly prepared."
Stone, ever the soldier, was the first to begin. He cut a small piece from what appeared to be a roasted arm, his face set in grim determination. "It's just protein," he muttered to himself, but his voice was shaking. "Different source, same... same nutritional value."
He brought the piece to his mouth, and Erel could see the exact moment Stone's mind tried to reject what he was doing. The soldier's jaw worked for several seconds before he could force himself to swallow.
The effect was immediate and horrifying.
Stone's eyes rolled back, and suddenly he wasn't sitting at the table anymore. He was somewhere else, experiencing something else entirely. His body began to convulse slightly, and when he spoke, his voice carried accents and inflections that weren't his own.
"Please," Stone whispered, his voice high and feminine--nothing like his usual gruff tone. "Please don't hurt my children. Take me instead, just don't hurt my children."
He's experiencing her death. Her final moments.
The memory played out through Stone's body for nearly a minute--a mother's desperate pleas for her children's lives, her terror as she realized what was going to happen to her, the pain of her final moments. When it ended, Stone collapsed forward onto the table, gasping and retching.
"The flesh remembers," Lady Sophia explained with maternal pride. "Every bite carries the essence of who they were, what they felt, how they died. Such rich flavoring for the meal."
So we're not just eating human flesh. We're experiencing their deaths. Their final moments of terror and pain.
Grey was staring at her plate in absolute horror. "I can't do this. I can't eat people and... and experience how they died."
"You will," Lady Sophia said firmly, "or my child will experience how you die instead."
The choice is simple. Become a cannibal or become a meal.
Erel forced himself to take a bite from what looked like liver pâté. The moment it touched his tongue, the world exploded into someone else's experience.
He was a middle-aged man running through dark streets, heart pounding with terror. Behind him, footsteps echoed--his pursuer was gaining ground. He ducked into an alley, pressing himself against the cold brick wall, trying to control his breathing. But it was no use. The footsteps stopped right at the mouth of the alley.
"Found you," a voice said, and then there was pain--incredible, blinding pain as something sharp pierced his chest. The man looked down to see a knife protruding from his ribs, and the last thing he felt was the cold spreading through his body as his life drained away.
Erel snapped back to the present, gasping and clutching his chest where he'd felt the phantom knife wound. The taste of copper and terror lingered in his mouth.
Each bite is someone's death. Someone's final moments of agony and fear.
But even as the horror of what he'd just experienced washed over him, Erel found himself adapting faster than the others. His essence ability had given him extensive experience with death—his own deaths. The trauma was still there, still real.
Grey had finally forced herself to try the hair salad, and immediately began sobbing as she experienced the death of a young woman who had been tortured before being killed. The detective's professional composure completely shattered as she lived through every moment of the victim's suffering.
Adren took a methodical bite of the muscle tissue, his expression never changing even as his body went rigid with the impact of experiencing a brutal murder. When the memory ended, he simply continued eating, though there was something hollow in his eyes that hadn't been there before.
But West couldn't do it. He had cut a small piece from the main course, but he couldn't bring himself to eat it. He held the fork halfway to his mouth, his hand trembling violently.
"I can't," he whispered, tears streaming down his face. "I became a doctor to save lives, to heal people. How can I consume them? How can I participate in this nightmare?"
His conscience is going to get him killed.
The others continued their grisly meal, each bite a descent into someone else's final moments of terror. Erel experienced the death of a child who had been lost in the woods, crying for his mother as hypothermia slowly claimed him. The innocence of the child's fear, the confusion as his small body shut down, the final whispered "Mommy?" before darkness claimed him--it all flooded through Erel's consciousness with brutal clarity.
Then came an elderly woman who had been murdered in her home, her last thoughts filled with confusion and betrayal as someone she trusted plunged a knife into her back. Each memory was a fresh trauma, layering psychological horror on top of the physical revulsion of what they were consuming.
Stone was weeping openly as he ate, experiencing death after death--a soldier's final charge into enemy fire, a homeless man's lonely demise in a frozen alley, a teacher's brutal murder by a student she'd tried to help. But he kept eating, driven by survival instinct even as each bite broke something inside him.
Grey had managed several bites despite sobbing uncontrollably.
Adren continued eating, but Erel noticed that something fundamental had changed in him. He had become even more isolated, building walls that seemed impenetrable. Each death memory seemed to reinforce his belief that connection with others only led to pain.
But West had barely touched his food. He'd managed one small bite before his medical ethics and basic humanity had overwhelmed his survival instincts.
"I can't," he said again, pushing his plate away. "I won't. I'd rather die as a human being than live as a monster."
Noble. Stupid, but noble. And it's going to get him killed.
The thing in Lady Sophia's belly was growing more active as the meal progressed, pressing against her skin with increasing urgency. It could sense the consumption happening around it, feeding off the horror and trauma that each bite generated.
"My child is pleased with the feast," Lady Sophia announced, her skeletal hands stroking her distended stomach. "But it notices that not all guests are participating equally."
All eyes turned to West, whose plate remained largely untouched. The others looked at him with a mixture of pity and resignation--they all knew what was coming.
"Doctor," Grey said through her tears, "please. You have to eat. We all do."
"I can't," West replied, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes. "Every instinct I have as a doctor, as a human being, tells me this is wrong. I won't cross that line."
His principles are going to kill him. But maybe dying with them intact is better than living without them. This is what awaits those who lead their life by something as frangible as principle.
The thing in Lady Sophia's belly gave a violent lurch, and suddenly the entire atmosphere in the room changed. The creature had made its choice.
"My child has decided," Lady Sophia announced, her voice taking on an otherworldly quality. "The one who shows such restraint, such lack of dedication to the feast--it finds such behavior insulting."
West looked around the table at the others, seeing the grim understanding in their tear-stained faces. They were all traumatised, all broken by what they'd been forced to do, but they had done it. He had not.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I know this makes it harder for all of you. But I can't compromise who I am to survive. I won't."
At least he's dying as himself.
Lady Sophia's belly began to distend even further, the skin stretching until it became translucent. Through the thin barrier, they could see the thing inside--something with too many limbs, too many teeth, and eyes that gleamed with hungry intelligence.
West stood up from the table, maintaining his dignity even as his fate became clear. "I don't regret my choice," he said firmly. "A doctor who abandons his humanity isn't a doctor at all."
The thing burst from Lady Sophia's belly with wet, organic sounds, revealing itself to be a creature made of pure appetite--a writhing mass of teeth and claws and insatiable hunger. West didn't run. He faced his death with the same calm professionalism.
His scream, when it came, was mercifully brief.
When it was over, Lady Sophia's belly sealed itself as if nothing had happened. "My child is sated," she said with maternal satisfaction. "For now."
Four survivors. The nightmare continues.
The remaining group sat in traumatized silence, each of them forever changed by what they'd been forced to do. They had consumed human flesh, experienced the deaths of innocent people, and watched their companion die for refusing to abandon his principles.
The weight of what they'd done settled over them like a shroud. Grey was still crying, her detective's mind trying to process the dozens of death memories she now carried. Stone sat rigid in his chair, every muscle tense as he fought against the accumulated trauma of battlefield deaths and civilian murders. Adren had retreated so far into himself that he seemed almost catatonic.
And Erel... Erel felt the familiar numbness that came from processing too much death. His ability had prepared him for this in ways the others couldn't understand, but that didn't make it easier. It just made it more manageable.
We're all monsters now. Except West. He chose to die human rather than live as something else.
Whether that was admirable or simply foolish, Erel couldn't decide. But as they prepared to leave the banquet hall, he knew that they would all carry the memories of those deaths inside them forever--every victim whose final moments they had experienced would remain with them, a psychological scar that would never fully heal.