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How Not To Become Lunch: 71 - Follow the Right Directions
“Up! Up up up! U-wuuuh! Oof!”
Fiona tackled the unsuspecting boy to the ground, pinning him, looming above on all fours with her tail wagging excitedly. Before her prey could make another sound, she plastered her tongue across his face, not just once, but twice, slathering him in canine drool like she was an enthusiastic pet. But the analogy broke down fairly quickly from there, mostly when you started to consider how easily she’d be able to break down her ‘owner’ inside the belly hovering above him.
The boy sputtered, unable to wipe his face with both his arms pinned, as he stared up into the wolf girl’s maw, smacking shut and falling open again repeatedly, giving him intermittent glimpses into her hungry depths as she sampled his flavor.
“Woof, you’re a tasty one,” she said. “I almost want to eat you right here.” Her belly gave a rather noisy grumble, as if it very much liked the idea.
“Uh… Fi?”
The werewolf’s wagging tail- her entire body- went still as stone, petrified with awkwardness at the sound of Jack’s voice. Had she really just said ‘woof’!? What was she, some dog stereotype!? A moment later she practically jumped up off the ground, turning her back to her catch and mumbling something along the lines of, “Oh, erm, I mean, I could do better.”
The boy scrambled up off the ground and fled, having never been so happy to be rejected by a girl. A moment later, a round of cheers rolled through the room as the latest player managed to hit the target and ‘mark their meal’. It was helpful timing; providing a nice, noisy distraction to fill the awkward moment.
“Uh- what’s up, Jack?” Fiona asked as the applause subsided, choking down her embarrassment like a rowdy lunch. Jack tried his best- for her sake- to act like he hadn’t heard anything.
“Well, Harry wanted to ask you something.”
The tone in her friend’s voice caught her attention. They both turned to the spectacled boy, nervously adjusting his glasses. The werewolf once again made an attempt to look as unintimidating as possible. He set his eyes on her neutral expression, but his instincts reminded him that a neutral expression on a flat-bellied predator could mean anything. He consciously countered the growing unease, calling to mind the recent conversations he’d had with her. She was nice for a pred; she wouldn’t bite his head off.
He began to push the words from his mouth.
“Fiona, I was wondering… do you think maybe you could… talk to that panda girl for me? I-it’s just… I’m really freaked out. Every time she moves I get a heart attack, and I don’t even know if she’s after me! I just… I want to know.” He hoped he wasn’t asking too much. He’d just met her; he didn’t want to seem like he was taking advantage of her. He just really didn’t want to spend the whole night in a mind-numbing panic.
Fiona didn’t need his words to tell her that the poor kid was freaking out. Just about every predator sense she had was signaling ‘frightened human’.
“Yeah, I could do that,” Fiona shrugged. “I mean, it’s a party, I was gonna chat anyway.” She smiled. It wasn’t like she’d be going out of her way for him; asking another pred about their choice of dinner wasn’t exactly unusual conversation. In fact it was common courtesy not to go after another huntress’ kill- that’s part of what kept Jack alive.
Harry smiled back; a shaky, uneasy smile, but a genuine one.
“Thanks,” he said, and breathed with relief. He’d never asked a predator for a favor before; that had gone much better than he would have hoped a couple hours ago.
“Please, take your slips,” Mr. Belv instructed, coming around with his bowl of papers for the next round of the game. The trio each took one, and this time they actually read them. Jack and Harry each unfolded their little notes to find the word ‘LEFT’ written neatly inside. Fiona held hers up.
“Well, guess I’ll get ‘right’ to it,” she joked, flashing the word ‘RIGHT’. It wasn’t particularly funny, but Harry felt compelled to attempt a laugh anyway, which came out as a semi-anxious chuckle. The werewolf took what she could get.
“Stay safe guys, I’ll be back in a sec,” she said, before walking off casually toward the source of the nervous boy’s tie-dye-clad nightmares.
Harry’s smile held for a moment as he watched her go, relieved and appreciative. At some point his gaze drifted over to the game. A human girl, dressed in black and white, was taking off her glasses and holding them in her mouth while she tied the blindfold around her eyes. She took her specs blindly back into her hands and awkwardly hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do with them, before ultimately putting them back into their familiar place, over her now-covered eyes.
Mr. Belv walked up to her, gently took one hand, and gave her the fake teeth, before proceeding to cast his spell to spin her whirling in place, a little tornado of black and white.
That was about the time a different mass of black and white caught Harry’s attention, his chest tensing again. His eyes flicked back over to the panda girl, having seen her moving from the edge of his vision. He expected to see Fiona with her, and the wolf girl was nearby, but it seemed the tie-dyed predator had started to walk away before they could start talking.
“Left!”
“Right!”
“Right!”
The game had begun, the blinded girl taking her first few steps toward the target on the wall. But she wasn’t the only one; the panda girl seemed to be heading in that same direction, one lumbering yet purposeful step at a time.
Harry drew Jack’s attention to the predator on the move. Jack took notice and looked to Fiona. The werewolf had taken a few steps after her, but then stopped; her canine muzzle showed an expression of patience, like she was waiting for the other huntress to finish with something.
All eyes settled on the panda as she emerged from the inner edge of the crowd, walked right up to the target on the wall… and proceeded to stand directly next to it, just to the left. All eyes except the blindfolded girl, that is. Most predators recognized this for what it was, but for a few of the humans- including Harry- it didn’t quite dawn until the black-and-white predator lazily stretched her jaws open into a toothy gape.
“Left!”
“Right!”
“Right!”
“Left!”
“Left!”
The game continued, the player slowly stepping toward the wall, the target, and the gullet. The fake teeth she was holding out at arm’s length wavered back and forth like a confused arrow on a compass, as concerned humans tried to guide her away from her impending doom, and helpful predators tried to deliver the panda her chosen dinner.
“Lo-!” Harry opened his mouth to call out a warning, but Jack’s hand moved like it was Fiona’s and killed the sound.
“Dude!” the marked boy urged in a forceful whisper. “Do you really want to find out what happens if you break the rules?” He held up his scrap of paper with the word ‘LEFT’.
Harry glanced down at his own, bearing the same instruction. In the heat of the moment he’d totally forgotten, that was the only thing he was allowed to say, wasn’t it? The only ‘hint’ he could give. He looked back up at the girl, obliviously marching forward, the game target to her right, and the hungry abyss of digestive death to her left. And the only things Harry could do were steer her into the greedy gullet, or say nothing at all.
“Left!” the crowd called.
“Left!”
“Left!”
“Up!”
*step*
“Right!”
“Right!”
*step*
“Left!”
“Up!”
“Left!”
*step*
Harry’s mind went empty as he stared. The outstretched hand wavered its way in the direction of the shadowed maw, hanging loosely open as the panda stood behind her red-tinted shades. A glob of drool crept precariously over the edge of her black lips, and her big pink tongue slopped lazily out over the row of bared teeth to catch it before it fell.
The blindfolded girl took another step and Harry briefly stopped breathing. She was just an inch away now, her hand outstretched toward the dripping jaws like some sacrificial offering, completely unaware of the mortal peril awaiting her next step. How could she not know!? Couldn’t she feel the hot breath washing over her!? The scent of digestion wafting up from the predator’s waiting throat!? Harry could feel it! Harry could smell it! Couldn’t he do something!?
Wait- he could! The rules! He had one free direction per round!
“Right!!” Harry shouted.
*squelch*
But it was too late. The girl took another step forward, and plunged her hand straight and deep into the saliva-slicked chute of the panda bear’s hungry gullet.
*gulp*
“Whah!?” The girl tore off her blindfold in distress, accidentally throwing her glasses to the floor along with it. But at her distance, she was more than close enough to see the predicament she’d stumbled into.
The pink tongue slithered up along the length of her arm like a serpent, leaving a trail of hot, slick slime in its wake.
*gulp*
She tried to pull back, but instead found herself yanked forward, jerked closer to the gluttonous gullet as it tightened its grip and pulled her deeper, the sheer, incredible heat pervading her entire arm, soaking in to the bone.
“Ahh-!!”
A huge, black furred hand came to silence her scream. It swiped around to the back of her head, swift and blunt, and shoved the girl’s entire face firmly into the sopping, pink taste buds, flexing and writhing as they soaked in her panicked flavors, before swelling once again in another crass:
*GULP*
A bulge appeared in the black fur of the panda’s neck, as her prey’s head slipped easily over the edge of her sizable, flexible throat.
The meaty mitt grabbed the back of the girl’s shirt, claws piercing through the fabric, and hoisted her right off the ground, lifting her and her flailing feet up to muzzle-level and then just beyond, so gravity could help along the next, inevitable:
*GULP*
A huge, lurching, noisy shudder sucked the panda’s meal deep into her body, practically pulling the shirt from her own grip as the human’s chest disappeared in a blink beyond the swell of the wiggling pink tongue, lazily lapping at the passing flesh and fabric to sample the quality meal as it passed by.
Harry, still barely breathing, felt like he was watching a real-life nightmare, as yet another girl continued to very quickly vanish behind tie-dye clad layers of fur and pudge. Every wet, meaty swallow drew the poor kid deeper, and he watched the swell in the panda’s gut growing with an uncomfortably intimate sense of familiarity. He remembered how it felt to be packed inside, each gulp pressing him tighter and tighter, the stomach walls squelching and gurgling happily at the arrival of a fresh new meal to digest. He could feel the eagerness of the living oven devouring him, to hold him and squeeze him and dissolve him until he was nothing more than a nutrient-rich slop set to fuel-
He flinched as he felt a hand on his shoulder.
He looked. It was Jack. The marked boy wore a sympathetic frown, eyes steadily looking into his. Jack knew the feeling all too well.
Harry breathed.
*GULP*
They looked back to see the last traces of the girl’s shoes disappearing over the edge of the panda’s tongue as the white-furred muzzle fell shut, sealing her prey inside. The long bulge slipped down into place, filling out the predator’s midsection with a hefty, wriggling, vaguely rounded lump of freshly ingested human.
Harry felt Jack’s hand on his shoulder and continued to breathe.
Cheerful jests from the other predatory guests could be heard over the largely silent mourning of the humans in attendance. The musicians worked in a little, celebratory flourish to their ambiance. Mr. Belv walked over to the newly stuffed panda.
“Congratulations on a successful catch,” he said without a hint of warmth, though his posh, practiced tone prevented him from sounding spiteful or sarcastic. “Though, I do believe you ingested our game piece,” he pointed out.
“Oh yeah,” the panda replied leisurely with a little nod. She put a hand to her big, bulging belly as it wiggled, and stood like that for a moment until the idle expression on her muzzle twisted.
*gurgle*
*glurg*
She pointed her snout down and covered it with her other hand.
*ug-urrp*
Her jaws parted gently for a moment, and then she held out her hand. There was the set of fake teeth, dripping with saliva and stomach goo, but otherwise undamaged.
The butler, to his credit, showed almost no reaction. “Thank you,” he said flatly as he lifted his wand. He pointed it precisely at the game piece. “Levito.” The toy rose, untouched, from the black-furred palm, leaving behind strands of breaking drool in its wake.
With that the panda girl turned and trodded off, aiming for a comfy chair to rest in, and Mr. Belv turned to prepare for the next round, ‘holding’ the morbidly dripping fake fangs at a distance.