Page 5 of Insatiable

“Do me a favor and tell me if you can smell bacon. Ro can’t smell it.”

Quinn lifts her shoulders. “I’ve been smelling grilled cheese sandwiches with chilli sauce all morning.” She huffs and gives a sad smile. “I used to eat them with Jenny all the time. They were our go to snack. I couldn’t afford much else. Maybe this place smells different to the individual. It wouldn’t surprise me. We all know how much you like bacon and what I can smell reminds me so much of Jenny that it can’t be a coincidence. What about you, Ro? What do you smell?

Ro's cheeks flush a deep shade of pink. "It's nothing… Just some donuts," she mutters, avoiding my gaze. A story lies behind that, one I'll have to pry from her later.

"Well, they'd better have more than just donuts on the menu. Where is our waiter? Ah, there's George." I wave him over with a flick of my hand. Cerby follows, all its jowls wobbling. I recoil at the sight of it, but don’t want to put George out, so I rearrange my features into a winning smile. Quinn, on the other hand, pulls one of its disgusting heads into a hug. It slobbers all over her, but she doesn’t seem to mind. At least it isn’t eating her, which is a plus.

"Ladies, are you enjoying your stay so far?"

"Not exactly, George," I pout. "Where are the waitstaff? You can't tantalize a girl with all these mouth-watering scents and not bring her the goods!"

"Tell me, what do you smell?" He looks positively delighted. "No, don't tell me. For you, New York cheesecake. Hot dogs for the lovely Quinn, and..." he pauses as his eyes land on Ro. "Goulash?"

I roll my eyes. "Not quite. We were hoping for breakfast - piles of bacon, eggs, sausage, tomatoes, mushrooms, has browns - maybe some pancakes on the side. And some mimosas to wash it down."

"Not for me!" Ro interrupts. "Just plain orange juice is fine."

Damn it, how could I forget?

George interlaces his fingers over his protruding belly.

"I hate to disappoint you ladies, but we don't serve food here."

My mouth falls open in disbelief and the very definition of Hell unfolds around me. No food? "Excuse me?"

He shrugs nonchalantly. “We can't very well call ourselves Hell and give everyone what they want. This is Hell after all.” He chuckles as though this is a joke. It has to be a joke. He gestures around the room. “In life, many of these people were gluttons who ate themselves to death."

I take a closer look at the other inhabitants in the canteen and finally notice that George is the only one with any meat on his bones. Everyone else is painfully thin, their ribcages visible beneath their clothes.

“They’re practically walking skeletons!” I exclaim, my mind racing. “You’re telling me there’s no food in Gluttony?”

George pats his belly with a smug grin. “We demons don’t follow the same rules as you humans. We have access to food in our quarters two floors below us, but unfortunately for you, the elevators won’t take you there.”

“But if we don’t eat, we’ll die!” I wail, my panic rising uncontrollably. “I’ll die!”

George’s laughter booms through the room, making me clench my fists and struggle to keep from lunging at him—and his insufferable dog. “My dear, you’re already dead.” He pauses, noticing the rage in my eyes. “Well, technically speaking. Don’t worry. Not eating won’t harm you in the long run. Think of it as the easiest diet you’ll ever go on.”

I open my mouth to protest, but snap it shut in disbelief. This can’t be real. “What about her?” I point frantically at Ro, who looks ashen and terrified. “She’s pregnant! You can’t just let a pregnant woman starve!”

George’s laughter fills the room again, echoing with cruel amusement. “Oh, you can’t kid a kidder, my dear. There’s no such thing as pregnancy in Hell.”

I stand up, or at least try to, straining to get closer to his face. “She’s pregnant, and she needs to eat. Ask Anthura if you don’t believe me, but get us some fucking food!”

For the first time, George’s face turns into an expression of something other than joy.

“I shall ask Anthura, but that won’t change my mind. If by some unknown chance, your friend here is pregnant, the baby will be undead, just like the rest of you. Which means it can’t die. It will survive without food, just as you all will. I suggest if you don’t like the way we run things here in Gluttony, you put your energy toward doing your best in the games.”

My anger boils over as he turns and walks away, taking his slobbering monstrosity with him. I slump back to the bench and bury my head in my arms, trying to contain my frustration. Food was the only thing keeping me sane in this hellhole. Every day, the thought of breakfast was what motivated me to get out of bed. But now, with George's threat looming over us, even that comfort is taken away.

"Nooooo!" I cry out in despair.

"It won't be that bad," Quinn says reassuringly, placing a gentle hand on my shaking arm. It’s still wet with helldog slobber.

"We'll all survive," Ro adds, her face drained of color as she takes my other hand. "You heard George."

"Yes, I did hear George," I reply bitterly. "I heard him tell us that he's going to starve us. In Lust they made us have more sex than we wanted. Surely it should be the same here, but with food?” I think of other ways I can get something in my mouth. Only one way springs to mind. “I wonder if spunk tastes different in this level?” I ask hopefully.

Ro dashes up, her hand covering her mouth. She mutters something about vomit, then rushes away, almost knocking Quinn over in her haste to escape.

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