Dave was heading toward the concession stands when he heard John shout, “What up, Dave!” “Where’s Ben,” he asked. “The line was too long for me but he still wanted to go on the ride. He said to meet up with him afterward.” “Oh,” said Dave. “I’m just going to peruse the food options. After we eat we can find Ben and the girls and hit some rides.” They wandered past the Haunted Mansion and at last came to the food court. Dave led the way from stall to stall trying to find something appetizing yet gross. “Poison Candy Apples, Bone Candy, Lady’s Fingers,” he muttered as we walked past. “Aha! Zombie Fries, fried with the skin on and covered in Soylent Chili. Those sound perfect.” He bought a large order from the vendor, who looked as though he was freshly dug out of a grave. He didn’t speak much what with having his lips sewn shut but he grunted enthusiastically when Dave picked up a few fries. “Want some,” Dave asked John, proffering the container of greyish fries coated in clotted looking chili. “They’re all yours dude,” John replied, watching closely as Dave took his first bite. “Not bad, but the texture is a little odd…,” said Dave, his voice trailing off as he began to feel odd movements in his stomach. “You ok, Dave,” John sneered. “You’re looking a little green.” As Dave tried to answer he looked at John and saw him changing. His face seemed to be melting causing a sudden surge of nausea to hit him. “Didn’t you wonder why they called them Zombie Fries?” John laughed mockingly as Dave doubled over. He felt something tearing through his stomach causing sharp pains and burning in his abdomen. He looked up again to see that it wasn’t John looking at him. It was the old man who’d sold them tickets. He was cackling and wheezing watching Dave’s torment. The most extreme pain yet hit him and he collapsed on the ground. He looked down to see something pushing his skin outward. It tore revealing a blood soaked finger gouging its way out of his abdomen. He’d just realized he could see bite marks from where he’d chewed on it when it disappeared through the hole it’d made and begin scraping at his innards. The pain so extreme that he couldn’t even scream he writhed on the ground as the decayed digit lacerated his organs. His vision narrowed and he started coughing up blood. As he blacked out he felt the old man’s breath next to his face and heard him whisper, “Don’t worry, you won’t be gone too long.” Evil laughter followed him down into oblivion.