If there was one thing Maria hated about living in Los Angeles it was the damn commute. Everywhere she went; it was nothing but car fenders for miles. Fortunately, her furthest class was only a 30 minute drive.

               Slamming the car door shut, Maria instinctively flipped open her phone. Only to be faced with a barrage of missed calls and frantically thumbed messages.

               [What’s going on Girl?]

               [OMG! Chelseas talking sh1t about youuu]

               [So… I heard some rumors hun? Call me if you wanna talk.]

               Maria’s heart pounded like a jackhammer, fresh adrenaline flowing through her veins as her eyes darted back and forth between messages. Someone MUST have found the prisoners; it was the only reasonable explanation for this level of hype.

               Suddenly her phone buzzed, damn near giving her a heart attack in the process. It was Cynthia. [Go to the kitchen and act dumb. I have a plan to get us outta this.] Read the hastily typed message.

****

               Keiko Nakahara tapped her foot impatiently while she and the other girls who cared to show up waited for Maria. As the vice president of this chapter, it was her duty to handle personal disputes. Even if it was something as silly and overdramatic as this clearly was.

               “Where the eff is this bitch?” shouted Nora, one of Chelsea’s ‘friends’.

               I don’t see the need to have a temper, she thought as Nora trudged back and forth around the kitchen practically fuming with anger.

               “Will you cease your incessant stomping? I mean, Christ your annoying.” Squawked a short blonde girl named Charlotte, whose face and voice reminded Keiko of a cartoon mouse she once saw back when she lived in Japan.

               “Excuse me? Did you really just try an tell me to calm down?” hollered Nora, whose statuesque figure combined with her bronze skin and long wavy obsidian colored hair made for an intimidating sight.

               The young blonde leapt up from her chair, a loud clack echoing across the kitchen as she slammed her heels into the linoleum. “Yes I did. And you do need to calm down. Your misplaced anger is rather obnoxious.” Said Charlotte boldly despite being at least a foot and a half shorter.

               “Hold up now, I see her!” said Jayanti, the only other foreign-born person in the entire sorority. She also happened to be friends with both Chelsea and Maria, making her position particularly tenuous. “Yes that is her… I do see her. She is coming!” she said from the kitchen window.

               The whole group became silent as Maria walked through the front door then immediately to the kitchen, throwing her book bag down and knocking over the leftovers from last night’s popcorn party. Judging from the almost traumatized look in Maria’s eyes, Keiko could tell that whatever Chelsea found clearly wasn’t something minor.

               All eyes were now on Keiko; it was her duty to resolve this crisis. “Maria. I think Chelsea wants to talk to you.” She replied softly while pointed to the basement door, making sure to not inadvertently cause the present company to lose face with Maria.

               “Maria. I just want ya to know that even though I’m friends with Chelsea, I’m on your side.” Said Nora, who despite her ramblings appeared to genuinely care about Maria.

               “It don’t matter what Chel’ found down there. She had no right to tell everyone about it.”

               Maria was touched… sort of. These people gave up their time to help her defend herself against Chelsea’s accusations. It was just a shame those accusations were true. “Thanks girls. I could really use some backup.” Said Maria, trying to sound grateful but instead coming across as timid.

               As the girls walked towards the basement door, Maria quickly glanced down at her phone.

               [Who is there? I need to know.] Read a text message from Cynthia.

               [Nora, Keiko, Jayanti, and Charlotte. The nosy little bitch is in the basement.] Thumbed Maria anxiously.

               The five girls approached the door, and were surprised to find it unlocked. Chelsea had previously locked the door to prevent Keiko and the others from storming the basement.

               “Maria. Do you want to, you know, tell us about what this is about?” asked Jayanti. Her slight Indian accent cutting in and out whenever she spoke.

               “I wish I had any idea.” Replied Maria as the group reached the bottom of the stairs.

               “Hello everyone.” Said Chelsea, “Your probably all wondering wh…”

               “Cut the crap we all know you’re just doing this for attention.” Yelled Nora who much to everyone’s surprise was the first to scold her. “Damn druggie. I don’t even know how the hell you got into this school in the first place.”

               Chelsea backed up slightly, her resolve somewhat cracked. She never anticipated this level of retaliation, and was totally unprepared to respond. Reaching into her back pocket, she considered just showing them Gerome; however that would just lead to another overreaction. She needed a way to calm things down before revealing him.

****

               Cynthia smiled smugly as she gathered everything she needed to enact her plan, her lips curved into a devious contemplative smile. However, behind that smile was nothing but pure fear. Cynthia needed more than anything for this plan to work; if it didn’t, the police would be called and it would be the end for her.

               In the table in front of her was a freshly heated box of pizza, a camera, and a ceramic bowl. Although this assembly of random items seemed innocent, for Cynthia who personally studied her kidnapper’s methods, this was a toolbox with infinite possibilities.

               As much as she hated the idea of using his technique, there was no other way to keep everyone silent. There needed to be something holding their tongues, they needed to be blackmailed.              

****

               “Well? Are you going to show us Chelsea, or are you going to stand there like an idiot?” said Nora who was getting a little sick and tired of what was essentially a five-on-one tag team debate.

               “Hang on my friend.” Interrupted Jayanti, “We should consult Maria first.”

               Maria screamed on the inside as the focus of this entire fiasco shifted back to her again. She prayed that something… anything would happen to resolve this situation without that secret being revealed. She looked down at her hands, god would she have given anything just to strangle Chelsea right there and then.

               Maria’s phone vibrated; there was another message from Cynthia, [Don’t eat the pizza] read the almost cryptic text.

               There was a knock on the door, “Hey? I hear screaming down there, I thought initiation was a couple months ago.” Joked Cynthia awkwardly as she walked down the stairs, a full bottle of whiskey in a bowl in one hand, a box of pizza in the other, and an exaggerated smile plastered to her face.

               “I totally think that everyone should just chill out, ya know? Here. I was saving this for myself, but it looks like you guys need it more.” Said Cynthia whose almost heavenly kindness instantly cleared the room of tension. “You too Chels’. I don’t know what this is about, but I doubt it’s worth skipping pizza over.”

               The girls glanced around the room then back to Cynthia; there appeared to be a general consensus. “What about you Maria,” asked Cynthia suddenly focusing entirely on her, “Aren’t you having any?” she said as the gaggle of girls descended onto the food like a pack of wolves.

               Maria knew what this was; it was a test. “I’m a little pissed off at Chelsea right now. I don’t feel like eating.” She replied looking away from the group.

               “Oh well. More for me.” said Cynthia who folded a slice of pizza in half before taking a massive bite from it; completely contradicting her advice from earlier.

               “Charlotte! You ain’t even 18 yet. Get your hands off that whiskey.” Jokingly chided Nora, who then confiscated the bottle from the now glassy eyed 17 year old.

               “Oi Nora. Is she… drunk?” sputtered Keiko whose body seemed to sway awkwardly from side to side.

               “No.” said Chelsea realizing exactly what was happening, “Worse.”

               Maria watched in shock as over the course of 10 minutes the 6 girls degenerated into a pack of mumbling fools. It was obvious now what she meant by ‘don’t eat the pizza’. Cynthia had drugged it.

               Her phone vibrated again, it was a delayed text from Cynthia. [My plan is in your hands. All you have to do is press play.] Read the message, which at first she didn’t understand; until she noticed the conspicuously placed camera aimed directly at the group of girls.

               “Okay.” Squealed Cynthia, looking directly at Maria as she pulled out a bag full of prisoners from her back pocket, and dumped them into the ceramic bowl. “It’s time for the party to begin.”

               It was at that moment that Maria realized; much to her own disgust, both the nature of Cynthia’s plan and the horrible realization that if she didn’t comply, everything she fought for would be destroyed.

               There was no time to contemplate morality; this was officially a game of life and death, self-defense. And as she pushed the button there was only one thing that ran through her head, it’s either me or them.

****

               Gerome felt his blood boil. Every second he was forced to spend inside the moist denim chamber that was Chelsea’s pocket only served to inspire more fantasies of violence towards her and the confederation of over-privileged over-sized bitches that now held his life in their hands.

               Light shined into the pocket, blinding him. He would have thrown up his arms but before he could react, 5 fat stubby appendages squeezed around him, and dragged him out into the light.

               The wind rushed past his face, and for a second he felt his internal organs shift up into his chest. He would have screamed, but the pressure from what he could only describe as two fat lumps cut off his breathing entirely. Then without warning, the pressure was gone. Only to be replaced with the feeling of falling, followed by intense pain as he deflected off the side of a curved surface and rolled down to the center.

               “Get the fuck off me!” screamed a shrill sounding voice.

               Gerome looked around. He was inside a bowl the size of a swimming pool along with at least 20 other people.

               “Everyone! Keep calm dammit. We have no idea what they want yet.” Ordered a tall man in a torn guard uniform.

               “I don’t take orders from bitches.” Cried a man from across the bowl. “Fuckin government shill.”

               Within seconds the bowl exploded into violence. Some went after the guards, others after rival gang members; a few even attempted to climb out of their circular zoo, but were stopped by its slipperiness.

               Gerome felt someone grab him from behind and push him against the side of the bowl. “If I’m going to die I’m going to die happy dammit.” Screamed the man, who grabbed desperately at the waistline of his tattered uniform.

               “Leave me alone. Can’t you see that this is getting us nowhere!” said Gerome before elbowing the man in the face.

               He crawled away from the brawl and looked around. Chelsea, who swore that she’d keep him alive, was nowhere to be found. Not that it mattered, just the fact that he was in this mosh pit confirmed his suspicions that she had betrayed him; either that, or something had gone terribly wrong.

               Laughter shook the bowl, magnified to ear piercing intensity due to its concave shape. Within seconds, it appeared like someone had frozen everyone inside. Looking up, Gerome’s heart sank as he saw 6 smiling faces hovering over his head; judging by the vapid looks on their faces and the strong smell of whiskey, it was obvious that none of them were in any way sober.

               Cynthia and Chelsea were up there, and for a second he thought this was some kind of cruel nightmare. However, upon feeling his injuries he realized that this was in fact reality.

               Six pairs of hands descending into the bowl faster than any object that size ought to move. Immediately, everyone inside lost total control of themselves; a shrieking symphony of horror induced screams cascading across the room as the pack of hands pounced like lions on the wriggling mass of people inside the ceramic arena.

               “NOOOO. Not a nigg…” screamed a skinhead with a muscular build, only to be cut off by two long slender ebony fingers pinching his leg in two like a cracker before hoisting the man high into the sky; her voluptuous athletic body towering over the bowl as she placed the man directly onto her teeth.

               Gerome could only watch as Nora’s jaws chomped down on the panicking man, ripping him apart as if he was just common food. His entire body was smashed into saliva encrusted goo by her vicious teeth. Bits of bone sticking out of the frothy mass that laid on her tongue as she reopened her mouth; her dark plump lips slathered with a sticky layer of drool and blood as she licked them in preparation for her next victim.

               “You’re so small? Why?” Said Nora muttering incoherently as she dropped the guard from earlier into her awaiting mouth.

               His head smacked against her curved ample lips, sending him spiraling into her already gore stained teeth. Which then slammed down into his arm like a guillotine, cutting his flesh like butter and instantly shattering the bone in two. The man howled like a wild beast at the loss of his arm. Reaching out from a pool of blood and saliva he cried out for help, only to be silenced as Nora’s tongue flicked him into the back of her mouth. Her lips happily dancing in unison with her cheek as she chewed the man to death.

               Gerome was now also in full panic mode. Two men were just eaten in front of him; he needed to escape or he would certainly die.

               His heart stopped as a pair of pale pillars pinched for him. Her long flamboyantly decorated nails reaching for him multiple times before settling on a frail looking woman with Irish mafia tattoos.

               The young blonde giggled excitedly upon grabbing her first prey, which when trapped in her fist resembled a grasshopper trapped in a child’s grip. “These things are really cool.” Sputtered Charlotte who twisted her wrist back and forth, propelling the woman around like a ragdoll.

               This is your one and only chance!, Screamed Gerome’s conscious, a surge of adrenaline flooding into his system propelling him forward and up the side of the nearly frictionless surface of the polished white bowl.

               “YES!” cried Gerome, too happy to even describe as he leapt over the side of the bowl, rolling across the ground upon landing before immediately ducking into the shadow of the bowl for cover.

               Meanwhile in the distance; the young blonde toyed with the anorexic women by allowing her to try and run away, only to stop her with the palm of her hand.

               Picking the women up, Charlotte pressed her lips into her palm and kissed the women as hard as she could, practically sucking the Irish women into her mouth like a vacuum. The young women flailing in resistance, her stick-like arms desperately punching her thin pink lips which wrinkled around the contours of her victim’s body.

               Finally, she removed her mouth; a string of translucent drool as thick as an electric cable suspended between the Irish woman’s breasts up to the tip of Charlottes tongue. All the while a monstrous slimy pink member the size of her body hung over her, waiting to continue its merciless assault.

               “Thhis tastes goood. Like… reeeally good.” Said charlotte whose drugged body seemed to sway back and forth, completely independent from her, or any sense of compassion and reason she may or may not have had before.

               “PLEASE! I’m a person, stop doing this and help me!” she screamed as Charlotte French kissed her torso. The wet meaty tip of her comparatively titanic tongue pounding her over and over again into her hand, knocking the breath out of her skinny chest and forcing her to breathe the hot stale air in Charlotte’s mouth.

               The women gasped for air, her face coated in miniature spit bubbles and her entire body soaked in hot caustic juices. She was completely finished, and Charlotte despite her current mental state knew it. Turning her hand over she allowed the women to fall to the ground where she smacked into the concrete floor with a juicy sounding thud.

               “Thiiiisss is pretty cool.” Muttered Charlotte as she adjusted her position and kicked off one of her white high heels, sending it flying across the room where it landed in the distance with a thunderous clack.

               The women on the ground sniveled for her life as Charlotte raised her foot over the women; the towering filthy sole of her foot glittering slightly with sweat. Fat pillows of toe flesh wiggling back and forth in anticipation, as if they relished the opportunity to kill.

               “Please. I’ll do anything, I’ll be your bitch, I’ll be your slave, you can fuck me all you want, JUST PLEASE LET ME LIVE.” She screamed as the gigantic drug entranced teen smashed her dainty foot down onto her frail body with a loud sticky sounding smack.

               For a brief moment, it seemed like she was going to be alright. The slightly dirty undersides of Charlottes pink painted toes splayed out across the women’s body, burying her face in a soft grooved wall of pungent meat; it was a humiliating position to be in, but at the very least she was alive.

               Alive, but in terrible pain as the threateningly oversized toenails scratched back and forth gently across her body with every casual toe scrunch, the thick blade-like nail cutting into her skin slightly with every pass.

               Unfortunately, Charlotte was not by any stretch of the word sober; the drugs that Cynthia placed into the food made her both forgetful and completely irrational. She reached over across to the bowl for another slice of pizza, and accidentally put pressure on both her feet. Gerome could only watch in shame as Charlotte shifted her weight, causing the poor forgotten woman to burst open like a balloon before being literally ripped to shreds by her toenails.

               I HAVE to get out of here, NOW, thought Gerome who could only stare in pity at the greasy human shaped stain painted across the grubby ridges of Charlottes first and second toes.

               Screams could be heard all around him, and he swore that if there was a hell this was it. At the very least all the girls were preoccupied, “She died so you could stuff your spoiled face with pizza.” He whispered up at the gluttonous beast of a woman before sprinting across the room as fast as he could.

               The sheer amount of space inside the basement was absolutely incalculable. Looking in the distance, he could spot at least a thousand areas that would make for excellent hiding spots.

               An earth shifting rumble with the magnitude of an explosion could be felt beneath his feet, as one of the girls tumbled over onto her side, blocking his route of escape. Her large green eyes focused squarely on him.