"And friends help friends. Don't they?" Cho looked away for a moment, thinking of his next words. Suddenly the large amount of food in my stomach started to churn and I felt ill. Cho continued. "You need to help me, in order for me to know you truly are my friend. Ōkui has a job to do and needs assistance. Simple."

A grotesquely fat man raised his hand at the sound of his name, signaling that he was the one I was to go with. Everyone I saw here was starving and feeble. Except for this man. He must have had to eat at least three men's worth of food every day.

I responded to Cho after I successfully kept myself from saying something about the fat one called Ōkui. "And what am I supposed to be helping Ōkui with, exactly?"

There was a pause for a moment. I wasn't supposed to ask questions. "You needn't be concerned with what is happening, only what you are to do to help."

I wanted to question further. Manipulate the conversation and get what I wanted, but I was on thin ice. So I held back my long trodden habits and gave a nod.

Ōkui spoke in between his bites of food. "Good..." He let out a belch, not caring about covering his mouth or any other pleasantry. With a mouth full of food. "Now that you're ready, let's go. We don't need to waste time..." He slowly lifted himself from his creaking chair. I followed.

Even when I was eating as fast as I could muster, this fat man finished before I was half done. No finishing for me, then. Off we go.

We walked through the poorly refurbished carcass of a hotel. Every step Ōkui took was slow and painstaking. But after enough time, we had reached the door.

Ōkui slowly bent to the ground and retrieved a silk bag resting on the doorframe. He handed it to me. "Carrying this can be your first task." Oh wow, thank you for this great opportunity.

I held my tongue and we left the building. Once into the cold air, the fat man seemed to care less about me. Perhaps just an act to make Cho think he was trying to initiate me or something. But in any case, I was glad to not have eyes over me.

I quietly looked into the bag while I blindly followed the slow footsteps of Ōkui. A club... The same he bashed into my skull a couple of hours ago. He could have at least said sorry after stalking me and kidnapping me. But enough, my blood was already boiled enough over this man. Next was a note. I would bring too much attention to myself if I were to try to pick it up and read it.

Ōkui interrupted my search. Without looking back or noticing what I was doing, he spoke. "Are you there?"

I quickly closed the bag and responded. "Oh... Yes, yes."

He nodded. "We're headed for a field. Don't get lost in the tall grass. And don't let them grab your ankles."

What? No time to ponder on what he said. There was a large unkempt field of grass ahead. And if what the fat man said was true, then I would apparently have to keep my attention to the ground.

We entered the field. At first, nothing seemed strange. Then I saw the naked skin of a man covered in the mud. He was extremely frail. All his hair was grown and he almost looked like a part of the dirt and grass.

In this state of awe, I forgot to stay cautious. A hand clenched to my ankle for dear life. The husk of a man started pulling himself close.

I kicked him off me in a startle. He reeled back in the pain. I spoke as I regained my footing. "Wha-What just!?"

Ōkui interrupted me quickly. "Shh! You don't want to attract more... After a while, the inmates get... hungry..."

We kept moving on. "It's their last hope from starving."

The fat man nodded. "Yes. You would hunger for human flesh if you hadn't eaten in months too. Most of these are the ones we've thrown in the pit but still refused to cooperate. After we give up on them we just throw them here and let them take the consequences of their actions..."

The bastards let them all reduce to this state while they feast comfortably. But I couldn't do anything about it. All I could do was be glad I wasn't one of them.

We kept moving. After I knew what to expect, it wasn't hard to stay out of their feeble reach.

Eventually we got out of the cursed field and into the open. Once we did, we could see firelight emit from a broken down old shack. I assumed this is where we were meant to go. "So. What are we doing?"

The fat man spoke. He was too lazy to withhold information now that it was just the two of us. "An old Doctor is in there... He's refused to give us what we want. So we've come to take it by force." He raised his pudgy hand to me. "Give me my club." I almost refused. I could fight him with the club. Hide. Wait. No. I don't want to end up like those half corpses in the field. I need nourishment from their group. I retrieved the club from the bag and placed the wooden weapon in his obese hand.

Only a few steps and we had reached the steps to the entrance of the burnt building.

The fat man went first. He opened the door silently, and we took a few steps in the room unnoticed. There was an old man operating on a corpse on the far side of the room. The corpse was crudely sat on an old desk, now makeshift operating table. I could see fresh blotches of blood on his white robes.

Ōkui broke the silence and spoke loudly to the unknowing Doctor. "Collection day."

The old man jumped in his seat. The scalpel he was using flung into the air and tore through the flesh of the dead body. The old man shouted. "Damn fat one! You've soured my work!"

Ōkui took no notice to his words and only spoke again. "It's collection day, deranged one."

The old man planted his knife into the now useless corpse and paced. "I told you that it would take more time. I can't come up with miracles, only vague ideas of solutions. And it takes time to act on those ideas."

The fat man shook his head. "There is no more time for playing about. Cho needs it right now." Ōkui turned from the Doctor and raised his hand to me. "The note from the bag." I reached in and handed him the parchment. He handed it to the Doctor. "New symptoms."

The Doctor read the text. "I see. Well... That is a problem. But there's still nothing I can do at the moment...." The Doctor let the conversation stagnate. I had a feeling he didn't want to hear what happened next.

Ōkui gripped the club tighter. "You know what happens if you can't help." He started taking a few steps closer. "You... Kenshi. Search the cabinets in his desk."

If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

I jogged over to the desk, or operating table, or butcher's block. Maybe all three.

In the drawer was nothing but a slew of useless papers and bottles of collected flesh and other small body parts. I looked over to the fat man and shook my head. He started closer to the old man as he saw my head shake.

The Doctor knew he couldn't fight back, so he begged. "P-Please. I know how to keep my mouth shut. Leave me and-" Unexpectedly, the Doctor broke from his plea and tried to run past Ōkui to the door.

He passed the fat man, but the club was already in motion. The piece of wood hit the Doctor's wrinkled head and he fell to the ground. After his face slid across the charred wood, he turned over. He knew he couldn't get up without getting hit, so he took the time to block the next swing.

The club went down. The old man's hands only did so much to block the damage.

There was nothing for the Doctor to do but plead again. But this time, he spoke to me. "Please... Kill the fat one."

Ōkui went down again. The old man's head hit against the floor. He looked like he had started bleeding.

My stomach turned. This was wrong.

I turned to look behind me on the desk. The Doctor's scalpel was still lodged in the corpse.

Ōkui swung again.

Let it happen and survive. Remember last time you broke the rules. Saving him will only bring torment. He's as evil as the rest.

My hand itched for the knife.

Ōkui swung once again.

My body overrode my mind and snatched the scalpel. Without even realizing it, the blade was already in the fat man's neck.

Ōkui paused, then reached back and pulled the knife from where it was lodged. With a thunderous thud, the obese man fell to the ground.

The Doctor took a minute to realize what had even happened. Once he did, he smiled and held to his head tightly. He spoke condescendingly.”I’m very thankful you made the correct decision, friend.”

I was disgusted by those innocent words. What a horrid thing I had just done, and now he had spoken like I was doing him a favor? "Do you understand what I just did for you, wretch." I could end up like those dying alone in the dirt.

The Doctor retorted, still with his condescending smile. "You have done a service to the progress of humanity. You did the right thing to be my friend. Don't tarnish it."

I was done pretending he was sinless. I wanted answers. "The progress to humanity? I only see pain in your wake. Tell me. Where do you get these bodies?"

He looked into the distance. His mind was vigorously contemplating all options behind his homemade glasses. Finally, he spoke, his demeanor fading away to show his true character. "Your Cho brings me food for my work. I take my table scraps and lure the starving here. Then I do what I like." The old man showed no repentance for what came out of his mouth, no guilt. In fact, he almost looked pleased in his ability to farm people like sheep. "They're nothing but animals. They have no other existence than to eat and procreate. I have a meaning, a purpose. And if bloodshed is to stand in my way to success, then so be it."

I looked closer into his eyes, searching for something behind them. There was nothing but the disgusting sight of evil. Nothing but a narcissistic self-image.

I regained myself and stepped over the fat man's body, then past the Doctor.

As I opened the door, the old man spoke. "Where are you going?"

"Back to Cho. I've got things to take care of."

The Doctor crawled to his feet. "And what of me? If you tell Cho, he'll stop giving me food and I'll starve with the rest. You'll have killed both the fat man and I."

I kept going. There was no way I would try to save this man twice. "You have just as much chance to survive as the people you've preyed on. Be glad I kept you from dying right where you stand."

The old man cursed as I walked away. I could hear the deranged Doctor shout and rage in his imminent demise.

---

Time wasn't slow enough on my walk back.

Cho was standing on the steps to the hotel, waiting anxiously for our return. His eyes widened as he saw only me emerge from the dark.

I kept my head down. Even though there was no way to, I tried to avoid him.

But of course, he walked over to me and questioned. "Where's Ōkui!? Where's the... The..." He rubbed at his arms. They were flakey and irritated.

I answered him. "Ōkui..." Well, not completely. "Ōkui didn't make it."

Cho's face went red with rage. "And how did he die!?"

Think of an explanation. Anything to take the blame from yourself. " Uh... The starving got ahold of him as we were walking back."

Cho looked at the floor in anger. He knew that I did it. But apparently, there was something more urgent to him. "Did he take what he needed from the old man? It could have been a bottle of liquid, paste, anything..."

I shook my head.

With a yell, Cho upturned a table sitting on the porch. And with another scream went a chair.

After, Cho stood motionless. His breathing slowed and his posture went proper. He turned to me with a beaming smile. "You know what? Dinner will be soon and you look tired. You can have Ōkui's old room! Down the first rightward hall, right next to mine at the end."

I gladly took the opportunity to make my way out of there. But my curiosity got the best of me before I fully entered. "Cho... What were we trying to get anyways?"

He looked back at me. "Oh, nothing important!"

Fine. I'd just focus on keeping myself alive if he would be prudish with information.

Inside I went. Down the first rightward hall, and my room was right there. Next to Cho's. Next to Cho's.

I needed answers, and Cho wasn't handing them out. He was distracted and busy. The men were preparing food. Now was the time.

I slipped into Cho's large room. In the paper walled room, it was havoc.

His bed was thrown to the side and was collecting dust. I didn't know how long it had been since it was used.

On the far side of the room sat a porcelain washbasin. The water in it was mixed with a black vomit and blood. Floating in it was also shreds of charred black skin. That must have been why Cho's arms were irritated.

The final thing in this minimalist room was a bamboo desk. On the desk was a lantern and a journal. I opened the journal and read.

Pages went from everything being fine, then to rashes and vomiting, now insomnia and mania mixed with violent outbreaks. With every entry, Cho's handwriting grew sloppier and harder to read.

My inspection was abruptly interrupted by the sound of Cho entering the hotel.

I raced out of the room and into mine. I had only a moment to get situated before Cho entered the room.

He spoke with a smile. "Dinner is finished!" We stared at each other in silence. Cho left as the anger beneath the smile started to show.

I followed him to the dining room, where I was met with the entirety of the group.

Cho ordered me to sit at the empty mat next to the table with a smile, and so I did. Food was steaming in the center.

Cho was the first to grab a sweet roll and place it on his porcelain plate. He then took another and piled it on... Then another... And another... And another...

Through the confusion, one of the men spoke curiously. "Hey. What Happened to Ōkui?"

Cho didn't stop piling the stuffed pastries as he gleefully answered the man's question. "Kenshi killed him!"

All the men gazed at me in understandable confusion. I kept my head low as I rejected what he said. "No... No. The starving killed him."

Cho retorted. "Come on. Don't be a liar and a traitor." He took a bite from one of his sweet rolls, to which he immediately vomited it back out. With determination, he tried to take another bite, but he only was given the same outcome.

Another one of the men spoke again. "What are we going to do with the traitor, Cho?"

He tried to take yet another bite but vomited again. He responded still with his frustrated smile. "We do nothing! I'm going to turn at any hour now. And when I do, I'll take every single one of you with me to hell!" The men went silent. Cho tried to eat another bite and vomited on the floor yet again. He was going to turn to yokai... The black vomit, no eating, no sleeping, and the black skin. It all surmounted to it. Why it was taking Cho so long to turn was anyone's guess. Maybe it was because he was delved in evil for years, he knew how to suppress it.

I stood from my seat. "I'm leaving. I'm not going to be part of your games any longer."

Cho shook his head. "That's not how this works. If you leave, I'll follow you and kill you while I still have the lucidity to relish in the moment." Cho then stood from his seat and walked over to me. "Are you prepared for death, Kenshi? Have you settled all your debts?" He got closer to my face. Every sense I had was warning me of danger.

I fought the urge to walk away. I couldn't give ground. I couldn't show vulnerability.

But he only got closer. I had to do something...

Fine.

I put my good leg behind me and pushed Cho with all my weight. He was too distracted to prepare for it. Cho fell into his puddle of vomit on the ground.

He just sat there, motionless and thinking.

I left without another moment. Even with it in a stint, my leg was too hurt to run. There was no way I could try to escape.

So I darted to the hallway and locked myself in my room.

I pulled my desk to the sliding door and kept it from opening. Not like he couldn't easily tear through the paper walls. But it was all I had.

Men talked to Cho from the other room. He was busy, and that was enough time to form a plan.

A tired and anxious sigh escaped from my mouth.

I didn't think Cho and I were friends anymore.