A Bad Case of Food Poisoning

Charles had no idea this is how the world would end. He had no idea the fate of this entire planet would start with one simple dessert.

“I warned him not to,” Charles said to the crowd. “Told him it was sketchy. But you all know how Gregory was. Always the optimist.” Imitating his best friend, “oh, Charles, believe in people, won’t you? This is probably a gift from a neighbor or something. Old Mrs. Floyd seems to really like me.” The crowd laughed as a smile rose on Charles’s face.

It all happened less than a month ago. Charles knocked on the door to his best friend, Gregory’s house. Every Wednesday night was poker night at their friend, Steve’s. Charles and Gregory usually got dinner before heading over. “Steve has a nice place but he sure doesn’t know how to host a group of guys,” Gregory would always tease, “one bag of chips for 6 men? Come on.”

When Gregory answered the door, Charles had a package in his arms.

“Here you go, Gregory. This was on the porch.”

“That’s strange. Wasn’t expecting anything,” he said with an eyebrow raised. “Let’s open it shall we?”

The two of them stood flabbergasted as they stared at the contents of the package. It was the most peculiar thing; packaged neatly was a solid chocolate cake. No frosted lettering and no letter at all saying who it was from.

“Hmm, the shipping label is rubbed off. Any idea who it’s from?” Charles asked.

“I don’t know. Looks like it might have been in another language,” Gregory said, narrowing his eyes to try and read the fragments of the label. “But that still doesn’t narrow it down. Half of my neighbors don’t speak English.”

Gregory looked at the cake, his stomach growled audibly. “Let’s dig in shall we?” he said, grabbing a knife from the drawer.

“No! That’s so sketchy, man. It could be poisoned or something.”

“Poisoned? Oh, Charles, believe in people, won’t you? This is probably a gift from a neighbor or something. Old Mrs. Floyd seems to really like me.”

“I don’t know man. Count me out.”

Gregory shrugged his shoulders, “eh more cake for me!” He went on to eat over half of the cake in less than five minutes and then the two men took off for dinner.

It was a wild poker game this week. Most weeks Gregory won in a landslide and then took Charles out for milkshakes with the winnings. Sometimes when Charles really wanted to leave early, he’d lose on purpose knowing full well he would get a free shake out of it. This week, however, Steve won it all. “He’ll never let me forget that will he?” Gregory asked.

“Not a chance.” The two laughed as they entered Gregory’s little apartment. “Hey man, mind if I crash here tonight?”

“Of course man. I’m beat, though. Gonna go to sleep.”

“Oh...ok,” Charles said with a judgemental face. He had to look twice at his watch; Gregory never went to bed before midnight, but it was only 9pm.

Charles watched some TV for a while until he fell asleep on the couch.

Around 3am he was startled awake. It sounded like Gregory was throwing up or something. Charles rushed down the hall, “Gregory! You ok, man!?” Charles yelled, but there was no answer.

Charles burst into the bedroom and saw the horrifying scene. Gregory was hunched over on the floor, groaning and coughing; a black sludge was underneath him. “Yo, man! That’s not good. Let me call 911.” Charles touched his friend’s shoulder reassuring him it was going to be ok.

“GRRR!” Gregory gave out a hideous growl. Nothing Charles had ever heard before. It wasn’t a normal upset stomach growl; it was something more, something demonic even.

“Woa, I’m just gonna go get help. Here, why don’t we get you in bed.” Then Charles did the one thing he’d regret. He reached under Gregory’s arm to hoist him back in bed. Gregory turned his face in a flash and peered into Charles with cold yellow eyes and spewed that black sludge all over his face. “Ugh!” Charles screamed involuntarily as he looked away. Then he felt a sharp pain followed by ooziness. He looked back to see his best friend’s mouth tearing into the flesh of his bicep!

Charles let go of Gregory, both from fear and the inability to use his arm now. A solid chunk was torn off, blood flowing everywhere. “AHHH!” Charles screamed in agony and took a step backward. Gregory was still squatting on the floor. He turned to face Charles and began crawling on all fours like a baby. Fear coursed through Charles’s spine, “this must be a dream,” Charles thought. “Gotta wake up!” He took another step back but collapsed from the adrenaline. He began shuffling faster, but Gregory matched his pace. Charles was panting like a dog shuffling for the door. He felt Gregory grab his foot and bite down! Luckily, he was still wearing his boots.

“Stop, Gregory, it’s your friend, Charles! What’s going on!?”

As he reached the door, Gregory was still biting down onto his foot. Charles knew what he needed to do. “I’m sorry, Gregory.” He lifted his other foot and kicked out as hard as he could, slamming Gregory’s face with a massive boot. His teeth and bone shattered as his grip on the foot loosened. Charles did a quick scoot backward and slammed the door. What followed would give Charles nightmares until the day he died. Gregory slammed into the door and started scratching relentlessly. He was banging his face into the door and screaming a loud demonic screech. Anything to get out. Charles could only imagine it was what a wild baboon sounded like if it hadn’t eaten in a month.

Charles’s breath was exasperated and his heart was on fire, but he reached into his pocket to call the police. He didn’t want to at first; he didn’t want to get his friend in trouble for biting him, but he had to make the call. “I need an ambulance!”

“What’s wrong sir?”

“I don’t know! My friend...he’s...he’s sick or something!”

“Is he hurt?”

Charles was so scared his filter was nonexistent, “I kicked him in the face.”

“You, what?”

Charles paused, regretting making the statement. “He...he bit my arm.”

“Bit you?”

“Just send someone! Hurry!”

Charles passed out against the wall listening to his friend scratch, trying to get out. Trying to eat him.

“The next thing I knew,” Charles told the crowd, “the police were there. Apparently, multiple people around the country had been given suspicious cakes just like Gregory. Of course, you all know that now. Still can’t believe no one knows who sent them.” Charles looked down dismayed. He breathed in as a tear fell down on his notes. “One thing about Gregory, though. He always had fun and he always wanted to make a difference in your life.” With those words, the congregation all smiled, thinking back to their fond memories of Gregory. “This may not have been the way he wanted to go out, but he certainly was part of something different. He made a difference in all our lives, and now the whole world too.”

Charles looked around at the weeping people sitting in the grass at the cemetery. Barriers were put up so the groaning dead outside couldn’t eat them. Security was stationed at every weak spot, killing the dead. Or re-killing them. It was here that Charles had to bury his best friend. He had no idea this is how it would end, and he certainly had no idea what was going to happen next.