Unable to control her curiosity, Portia looked and saw a gathering of fifteen children assemble at the leader’s feet.
“Claw come forward,” the Generate leader said motioning to a boy about ten years old. The boy stood up and came to him. The Generate leader put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and held out the knife. “Take the blade and cut the man across the belly, there,” he said using his own torso as a guide. The boy nodded, took the knife and stepped in front of Earl. The Generate leader stood behind Claw and said, “Do it, Claw, open him up for us.” The boy raised the knife, pressed it against the exposed abdominal wall and slid it across. Instantly, Earl’s intestines poured out and fell to the ground with a plop. Claw stepped away, handed the knife back and sat down. The Generate leader said, “Children, take the bowels of this man and pull them out. Take them and put them in the bucket; the women will clean them for later.” The children did as he said. The grand finale was now here. The Generate leader faced Earl’s dead body, raised his knife and plunged it deep into his sternum. From there he sawed until he had a foot long incision in his chest. He sheathed the knife, reached in with both hands and pried open Earl’s chest.
The sound of cracking ribs made Portia cringe.
Nancy continued to sob while others were still unconscious and even more cried knowing their fate would soon follow Earl’s.
The Generate leader reached into the chest cavity, grabbed Earl’s heart twisted it hard and pulled it out. Being the leader of this tribe, the heart was his to take and that he did. He held it high then brought it down level with his face. He examined the bloody organ and clamped his jaw around a ventricle and bit down. Using his incisors, he twisted and turned his head until he was able to bite off a large chunk. He chewed repeatedly, breaking down the fibrous tissue until he could swallow. Blood ran down his chin and dripped onto his bare chest. Not finished, he took another large bite.
The tribe grew increasingly agitated due to hunger. They longingly looked at their leader then to the Generates cooking the skin. They were waiting for the word to go eat.
The Generate leader finished the heart with one last bite. He swallowed hard, licked the blood from his fingers and raised his hands. He looked to the Generates cooking the skin and ordered, “Done. Prepare it.”
They did as he ordered and removed the charred skin and began slicing it into hand sized portions.
The tribe began to grunt and moan as their hunger was increasing.
A wind whipped from the north and washed Portia in the intense smell of charred flesh. She gagged and dry heaved, trace amounts of bile coming up gave her mouth a bitter taste.
The Generates finished cutting the skin and signaled with a nod to their leader.
“Go eat!” the Generate leader hollered.
Like a pack of wild and ravenous animals, the tribe raced towards the table stacked high with charbroiled skin. They kicked, punched, scratched and clawed to get their hands on a piece.
With the tribe busy eating, The Generate leader motioned towards the body of Earl.
Knowing what came next, the three Generates who had carved Earl walked over, took the body down and placed it on a long table feet from the last fire. Using cleavers, hand saws and knives they began to butcher Earl’s body. As manageable pieces were cut off, one of them would toss it on the grate and began cooking it.
Portia began to wonder if she should find a way to kill herself. Dying the way Earl did wasn’t something she wished to experience. She thought about taking a knife from one of them and slicing her own throat and even leaping into the center of the bonfire. Both would be painful but only for a brief moment compared to the torturous death she’d just witnessed.
The Generate leader approached the women. He slowly walked past each of them, stopping in front of a couple. He reached the end of the line, turned around and began another pass. He stopped in front of Nancy, who had become hysterical, and said, “You’re next.”
“No, please, someone help me!” she cried out.
He pulled out his knife, cut her away from the cable and lifted her to her feet.
A combination of fear and shock made it hard for Nancy to stand. She went to take her first step but her legs wobbled and buckled. She collapsed to the ground and began to cry.
The Generate leader didn’t need her to walk. He’d get her to the post any way necessary. He bent down, took a handful of hair and pulled her behind him kicking and screaming. When he reached the post, he secured her to it like Earl was and pulled out his knife. He went to go remove one of her ears but stopped when he spotted the locket. Curious, he ripped it off her neck and opened it to discover Kyle and Portia’s pictures. With no real value, he tossed it on a table near him.
“God please, someone help me.”
He got in her face and smiled broadly showing his brownish yellow teeth.
Repulsed she turned her head away.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
Unable to control her bodily functions, she wet her pants.
Taunting her, he said, “I’m going to enjoy eating you later.” He took her left ear in his hand and with a single precise slice, removed it.
Dana stopped at the corner in the hallway and peered around. The three remaining guards stood talking as she had left them, unaware that their comrades were dead. She looked back at the men and said, “Its show time.”
Cal reached up and touched her arm, “Be careful.”
Her face scrunched and with a tone signaling her annoyance with his persistent concern said, “Calvin, I’ll be fine, stop always saying that.”
Cal nodded.
Kyle watched the two interact and could tell they must have a romantic relationship or at the minimum he cared for her more than she did for him.
Before Dana stepped off she gave Kyle a look and winked. This wink didn’t go unnoticed by Cal, but before he could say anything, she was already heading down the hallway.
Cal scooted up to the corner and listened for her cue, with Kyle just behind him.
A guard named Mat saw Dana coming first and asked, “Where are the guys?”
“They’re coming, I thought maybe I could entertain you guys too. They weren’t enough for me,” she said seductively.
One of the guards raised a brow and asked, “I smell bullshit.”
Mat turned to him and asked, “What do you mean, Brad?”
By this time, Dana came to within a few feet of them and stopped.
“That I don’t trust her,” Brad said skeptically.
“Oh, come on, Brad, I know your wife and I bet she can’t take care of you like I can,” Dana said.
Mat ignored Brad’s skepticism and approached Dana, he went to touch her but she backed up just out of reach. “Where you going?”
“No touchy until we get back to the room,” Dana said.
The last guard stood in front of the door, he was young, about seventeen and this was his first detail working the Lair. He’d seen the older guards play around and violate their oaths but he was too scared to do so.
Mat spotted something unusual on Dana’s white shirt. “What in the hell is that?” Mat said pointing at the front of her shirt.
Dana looked down and saw blood splatter. Fear gripped her. She stuttered, “Oh that; it, it, its pasta sauce I’m preparing for dinner tonight.” While she spoke her right hand slowly drifted towards her back.
Brad stepped forward, leaned in and looked, “Pasta sauce, that looks like…” he said but was unable to finish as she pulled the pistol from her lower back and shot him in the face.
Mat watched in shock as his friend’s head exploded. He began to raise his rifle but was too slow. She turned the pistol on him and shot him twice, once in the chest and once in the side of the head. He dropped to his knees and fell to the ground dead.