The Feast on the Bus

I wad riding on the bus, as I normally do. I was in such a hurry, so distracted by my little world and the various tragedies in it that I rushed to the back of the bus without seeing who sat across from me, and I did not see them for a long time after.

It was some minutes into the trip that the wet noises broke me out of my self-ponderment. I had been staring at my boots for so long that looking ahead of me now would be too abrupt, so I peeked up through my lashes.

Directly before me sat a woman, I suppose. Her own lashes were long and blonde, fluttering down over gray almond eyes. But below that, her lower face broke up into many jaws - like an insect's, but far more numerous, delicately branching off infinitesimally like veins. The elaborate latticework of her mandibles all latched together perfectly.

In her lap, she cradled the head of the man who sat beside her; and as I watched, those many fine jaws pried apart the red meat of his cranium and gobbled it up.

I was too stunned to react; and when I saw that no one around me seemed bothered by the situation, it occurred to me that perhaps I should not react at all. Breathing lowly, I continued to watch the macabre show through the veil of my lashes.

Her stop came at last. As she got up, I swear she fixed her eyes on me and - even without the right mouth for it - smiled. Then she was gone.

The mutilated corpse bumped fleshily against the empty seat with every rumble of the bus. I did not move.

Suddenly, something glinted out at me from the violated cavity. I looked around discreetly as I dared, but no one else seemed to notice this, either.

I waited. Never had the ride to my stop seemed so long. The thing in the man's brains glinted again.

Curiosity began to take hold of my muscles. Edging in my seat, I tried for a better look, but nothing more was yielded. I tried many different angles, losing consideration for how strange, or impolite it must look to stare so; but I could still see nothing more.

At some point, the bus had shifted the man so that the open bowl of his skull tilted straight at me. Those wormy wrinkles held a secret from me even at this direct angle, and at last I could stand it no more.

I dug out a pen from the depths of my bag and uncapped it. Renewed concern for those around struck me, and I looked; but no one cared. Dead or alive, the man and I may as well not have been there. Without reason to restrain, I did not.

Brandishing the projecting bar of the pen lid, I stroked it across the pale brain meat. The tissue yielded, subtly. Encouraged, I dug it deeper into the meat, faster, etching deep furrows. A bit more of the shining stuff shone through, to my delight - then I snapped my head up and looked around again, fearful how this must appear.

But still, they did not care.

So, I went back to work, uncovering still more; but it was too little too slowly. Impatient, I exchanged the pen lid for my keychain, disentangling it from my wallet's innards. The engravings in the meat were easier now, the grooves coming in wide, unfettered swoops.

I had now a wide, funneling pit into the organ's core; and that mystery prize gleamed, white and crystalline. I slipped the key's blade off to the side and twisted in for leverage, attempting to prise it out; and I thrilled to see a spray of diamonds come flowing free.

Then the people around me began to scream.

Credited to Revereche