A Friend In Need

Zack had been roommates with Lamont and Oscar for about three weeks, and so far, neither of
them had willingly engaged in a conversation with him.

He was sitting on a chair in the kitchen, trying to sate his appetite with a sandwich (although he
knew that he’d probably have to snag a jogger passing by the building later that day) and feeling extra
down on himself. Lamont had locked himself in his room, and Oscar was planted on the living room
couch and hogging the TV, glaring at Zack whenever the two college-aged men made eye contact.

He understood it all too well. Preds were naturally territorial entities; the fewer there were in a
given area, the more food was available for the ones who remained. He knew that neither of his
roommates would be living here if given the option. Still, rent was cheap, tuition covered the residence,
and not many other people in the building wanted to move in with any man-eaters, so it was the best
option financially.

That didn’t mean that they would be all buddy-buddy, of course, and the tension in the
apartment was thick enough to cut with a knife. Zack knew better than to expect that. The typical attitude
for Preds interacting was one of polite tolerance, barely concealing the intense, domination-driven hunger
under the surface that threatened to break free if one looked at the other funny. Even Zack wasn’t immune
to it; it was hard not to be wary of other Preds and never knowing when someone else would pounce,
swallow you whole, digest you in a process that’d take minutes to days, and maybe not even reform you
afterward. He dejectedly wondered if that’s how his own prey probably felt, even if Zack was more
benign than most of his kind.

Still, Zack pouted at the lack of warmth that his new acquaintances had shown. He supposed he
should be grateful that they weren’t tearing each other limb from limb, but weren’t they better than that?
Shouldn’t their ability to form connections override base instincts?

Zack scrolled through his Instagram, quietly forming a plan. At that moment, he made it his
mission to befriend his new roommates and try to break the ice.

—---------------------------------

It was a rainy, cold and lazy Saturday. Lamont had gone out to God-knows-where, and as Zack
walked into the living room, he noticed that Oscar was sitting on his signature part of the couch with his
laptop open, and his stomach was… preoccupied with some unfortunate guy, the imprint of his struggling
hands and feet visible through the layer of muscle and fat that made up Oscar’s torso. The muffled sounds
of his screams and yells made it clear that this fate was very much not a willing one, although the sounds
Oscar’s “guest” was making were drowned out by the wet groans of digestion. He’d been holed up in his
room for the past week, so it seemed that this was partially why.

Zack smiled sheepishly at the scene and then whistled to get Oscar’s attention. “Hey, bro!”
 Oscar, not hearing Zack walk in due to the noise coming from his gut, whipped his head
around, sheepishly trying to cover himself. He glared at him, not necessarily angry, but it made it clear
that his guard was up. If only to alleviate the tension, Zack chuckled and did not break eye contact. That
was a surefire sign of weakness, and he didn’t intend for Oscar to think he was lunch.

“I’m going out for a bit. I’ll probably be back in, like, half an hour.”

Oscar blinked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Alright, see ya.”

Before Zack could turn around and head out the door, Oscar froze. His cheeks pouted,
and he suddenly let out a long belch, the stench of it even drifting to Zack’s nose on the other side of the
room. And, it just so happened that, when he did, his eyes shut closed, breaking the staring contest the
two of them were quietly engaging in. Oscar caught himself, staring at Zack with wider eyes as if to
regain some modicum of dignity and, potentially, prevent Zack from seeing his lapse in attention.

Of course, Zack just stood there and smiled reassuringly. Perhaps Oscar and Lamont would take
advantage of one of his slip-ups to turn him into dinner, but he wanted to get off on the right foot.
“Alright, later!”

Oscar was left sitting on the couch, bewildered at his fellow Pred’s attitude, the groans of his
bloated stomach, and the thrashes of his prey being his only company.

—---------------------------------

When Zack left the apartment, he’d gone looking for a worthwhile meal; Most people were
immediately put off by his massive height difference (a tell-tale sign of being a Pred), so he usually had to
be a bit covert. But, on the other hand, it was raining, so with fewer people around, Zack didn’t feel the
strong need to conceal his presence.

Thankfully, he’d come across what seemed to be another Pred, peaking around an alley corner,
about to pounce on an old lady wearing a raincoat who was passing by. Zack turned up his nose in
disgust. He didn’t really understand Preds, who tried to eat old people. Not only was it fucked up, but he
could only imagine they tasted terrible!

Zack snuck up behind the guy, wrapped his arms around his shoulders to hold his arms in place,
and snapped his jaws over the guy’s head before any words could be said.

Swallowing was always the most challenging part, but a darker part of Zack found it the most
thrilling, feeling the panic and struggling of his food as they were trapped within his powerful body,
futilely trying to resist him and ultimately falling victim to his hungry belly. He tried to ignore that
insistent and unhinged part of his brain and get this thing over with quicker.
 He gave three sharp swallows, each sending the guy further down into Zack’s gut, his stomach
distending with the guy’s head bulging through. The guy’s screams vibrated through Zack’s body, sending
tingles to his crotch.

The guy was almost entirely inside Zack, who breathed heavily through his nose to avoid passing
out with the effort, but now was the awkward part - the knees. His jaws were starting to strain, and his
swallowing was becoming rather painful. He had to keep his back completely straight to avoid breaking
this guy’s legs. Sure, he was a Pred, but he wasn’t trying to torture the guy!

“Looks like someone could use some help.”

Zack turned in the direction of the voice to see Lamont. The other Pred smirked at the scene he’d
walked in on, his fingers lightly drumming his stomach, which was full of still living and still thrashing
prey. From the pitch of the screams, it sounded like a woman, though it was still muffled under layers of
the warm flesh of Lamont’s soft belly.

“Mphh-mm?” Zack hummed and froze as he stared back at the other Pred. His mouth and throat
were distended with the legs and feet of the guy in his esophagus, unsure if he should stay there. He’d
wanted to make friends with his roommates, but would Lamont take advantage of this situation to eat him
while his own mouth was full?

Before he could decide, Lamont got closer until the two men stood eye to eye. Lamont tilted his
head, smiling coyly as if challenging Zack to do something. Then he laughed. “I don’t know what I was
so worried about. You’re harmless, aren’t you?”

Zack’s mouth was too full to reply, and Lamont shushed him. “Shh. Didn’t your mother teach you
anything? It’s rude to talk with your mouth full. Let me help you with that….”

Suddenly, Lamont reached a hand up, gripped Zack’s shoulder, and used his other hand to push
the guy’s feet further back into Zack’s mouth, scraping his shoes past his sharp canines. With a final gulp,
Zack instinctively swallowed as finally, finally, the guy’s feet slid down his esophagus, and his body filled
out Zack’s distended gut with a deep, wet groan. Zack sighed, able to catch his breath, and automatically
rubbed his belly, groaning at the natural satisfaction of being so full and of the kicks of his meal. Despite
how civil and kind he always tried to be, there was just no competing with this feeling.

As if remembering that Lamont was there, Zack stood straight again and regained eye contact.
Lamont was still smiling as if proud of himself. There was a brief moment of silence between them, aside
from the gurgling of their guts and the muffled struggles of their victims.

Zack finally spoke. “Uh, thanks for your help. You didn’t have to.”

Lamont chuckled darkly. “You’re right. I didn’t. But it’s actually kind of fun to watch another
Pred eat somebody. More fun than doing it alone.”
 Zack smiled. “Yeah. Speaking of doing things alone, I wanted to ask you guys if you wanted to
hang out or something later today.”

Lamont’s smile fell, and he looked to the side. “I don’t know if that’ll work out. It’ll all be fine
and dandy until one of us tries to eat the other two.”

Zack frowned, a bit frustrated. “But we don’t have to do that. Not if we all come up with some
kind of agreement. Who says that it has to be this way? That we all have to walk on eggshells around each
other all the time? Aren’t you sick of this?”

Lamont frowned and suddenly crowded against Zack, knocking him into the alley wall. Their
massive stomachs smashed into each other, warm pulsating skin meeting warm pulsating skin. The
victims inside renewed their struggles, now given much less space to occupy and being crushed into the
hot, wet, pulsating walls of their respective stomachs. If either Pred noticed this, they both said nothing.

“I could eat you if I wanted to,” Lamont warned, his eyes narrowing, “Who says I’ll stick to some
lame agreement? I could say right now, ‘sure, Zack, I won’t eat you,” and then tomorrow I’ll swallow you
down, and keep you in my gut, just like this bitch right here.”

He smacked his stomach like a drum, and it wobbled and reverberated, the woman inside
miserably sobbing, clearly not trying to fight against his digestive tract any longer. Zack’s own gut was
impacted by it as well, the guy inside having long gone still and quiet, probably succumbing to Zack’s
peristaltic fluid and having passed out, now ready to be processed.

Zack stayed firm. “You’re right. I don’t know if you’ll just eat me tomorrow. You probably will.
But I’m willing to give you a chance not to. To have some peace for once. Can you give me that same
respect?”

Lamont’s eyes widened, and his resolve seemed to waver, his hostility melting away to confusion.
Finally, he stood straight again and backed away, giving both guys (and their guts) some breathing room.
“Holy shit, you’re serious.”

“Yep.” Zack idly rubbed his stomach as he held a hand out for Lamont to shake. After a few
seconds, Lamont accepted it.

—---------------------------------

Both Preds walked home side-by-side, a comfortable silence between them. There were
occasional glances between them, prompted mainly by Lamont, who seemed convinced that this was
some kind of set-up, but Zack only offered him reassuring smiles and polite conversation.

Zack’s gut had shrunk down to a manageable size; It was no longer firm and man-sized,
but soft, plush, and round, only grumbling occasionally as the digested chyme left over from that guy
were gurgling into Zack’s intestines. Lamont’s on the other hand, was still pretty big, and lumpy, with the
form of that still living woman visible through it. She’d gone quiet though, the fighting spirit she once had
having clearly spun down the drain.

“Is she still… alive?” Zack asked, gesturing to Lamont’s belly. Lamont patted his gut and
cocked his head as he grinned, as if proud of it and himself.

“Yep! I like to really make them last. I even keep a record. The longest for me was three
days.” He held up three fingers.

Zack didn’t know whether to be impressed or horrified. On one hand, it was horrific to
keep someone in that sweltering, digestive limbo for longer than necessary. On the other hand, it wasn’t
like Zack had much of a moral high ground, either. They both still ate people, even if Zack tried to find
some kind of way to make the process more technically ethical.

Oscar was still sitting on the couch, in the same spot that Zack had last seen him, typing
away on his laptop. The presence of the two other Preds immediately got his attention, and he spun his
head to look over at them, his gaze flicking back and forth to measure them both up, as if he was unsure
of which guy to focus on. His stomach was still massive and bloated, the person inside clearly not
digested yet, but it’d gone mostly still, though whether it was because the man inside was dead or just
unconscious was impossible to tell.

“Hey, we’re back!” Zack greeted, and Oscar’s eyes flicked over to him. “I bumped into
this guy on our way to get some food. Did you need anything?”

“...No.” Oscar said simply, curling in on himself on the couch.

Zack beamed. “So, I was actually wondering, do you guys want to watch a movie
together or something? Unless you’re busy.”

“I-” Oscar glanced briefly at the TV before his eyes darted back over to the pair. “I’m
busy.”

“Oh,” Zack said, his upbeat attitude giving way to disappointment, “Cool, cool, that’s
fine.”

“Wait a minute,” Lamont interrupted the banally one-sided conversation and walked
closer to Oscar, who sat up straight. “What’s the matter with you?”

Oscar stood up. “Nothing. What’s the matter with you?”

Zack paused, confused. He didn’t like how suddenly confrontational this had gotten.
“Woah, woah, woah! Wait, guys. Is something the matter? What’s wrong?”
 “Look at him,” Lamont answered, jabbing his thumb in Oscar’s direction, “His stomach
looks weird.”

“No it doesn’t.” As if stricken with newfound self consciousness, Oscar backed up and
tried to create space between them, meekly trying (and failing, given its size) to shield his stomach from
view. Lamont quickly closed the distance.

“I see what the problem is,” Lamont teased, his voice taking on a more lighthearted tone,
“Poor baby has indigestion.”

“What?” Zack peeked around Lamont to see for himself.

Oscar didn’t look super different, but his stomach, upon closer inspection, did have a
certain bloated look, as if it was full of trapped air and gas, and dragged down uncomfortably by all of the
weight within it. Now that he thought about it, Oscar hadn’t come out of his room for about a week. Was
this why? Was the guy he’d eaten not agreed with him?

Oscar shuffled awkwardly, trying to stare down the other two into submission and clearly
failing. “Back off. I’ll eat you both. I’m warning you.”

“Oh, please,” Lamont laughed, “Not when you’re dealing with your tummy-ache. You’ve
bitten off more than you can chew, dummy.”

Oscar’s eyes glinted dangerously, and he got closer to Lamont’s face, his teeth bared.
“I’ve got room for one more.”

Before things could take an ugly turn, Zack barged in between his roommates, and placed
a hand on Oscar’s shoulder. “Hey, listen, it’s okay. Do you need us to help you? Maybe if I-”

Zack’s free hand wandered to Oscar’s belly, lightly pushing against it. It was still lumpy and firm,
the guy inside not fully digested at all. Oscar gasped.

“Hey don’t touch m-!” Oscar interrupted himself with a sudden inhale, and then a massive
“BELCH!”

Zack caught the crux of the gas right in the face, little strings of drool landing on his cheeks and
forehead, and he stood, stunned, for several seconds. But Oscar’s whimpers and moans told him that
whatever he’d done, it was relieving some of his roommates’ pain.

Lamont burst into laughter. “Oh, that’s fucking hysterical! Let me try.”

Lamont pushed Oscar down onto the couch, and, upon sitting down next to him, began rubbing
his belly, and Zack sat on the opposite side. Unlike Zack’s earlier touch, Lamont eagerly thrust his hands
up against the sides of Oscar’s gut, quickly dislodging the crux of his discomfort.
 “I’m not-” Oscar hiccuped, and then released another hearty belch, this time with a gold Rolex
flying out of his mouth. Zack glanced down at it before looking back at Oscar.

“Is this helping?” he asked, glancing over at Lamont, who was getting some sick fascination with
Oscar’s embarrassment, “If you want, we could stop-”

“I didn’t say to stop!” Oscar suddenly shouted, and even Lamont was shocked by the outburst.
Oscar regained his composure, and held back another smaller burp. “This is… helping.”

“Don’t make me do all of the work,” Lamont said, getting Zack’s attention, “You’ve gotta pull
your weight, too!”

The guy inside of Oscar’s belly, seemingly reawakened by the activity happening around him,
renewed his struggles, and started kicking vigorously, the imprints of his feet visible through Oscar’s
flesh. Oscar sighed, the corners of his eyes pin pricked with light tears.

Zack followed Lamont’s lead, and dug his hands into the gut. The deeper in he pushed, the hotter
the flesh felt, the bubbling activity within heating up Oscar’s skin.

The guy screamed inaudibly, and Zack, instinctively, put his lips to Oscar’s gut to whisper.” It’s
okay, dude. Just give in to it… If you don’t struggle, you’ll get digested quicker, and then you won’t even
remember any of this.”

Then, when Zack’s hand brushed up against something hard, Oscar hiccuped, and then…

“BEEEELLLLCHH!!”

This one was even bigger, louder, and fouler than the previous few, and, with the sudden loss of
air, Oscar’s stomach shrank to half of its size, now basically vacuum-sealing the guy within. When he’d
finally caught his breath, he placed a hand on his chest. “Fuck.”

Lamont was having the time of his life, laughing at the entire display. “Ha ha, that was sick!”

Oscar sat up, briefly relieved from his discomfort, before another wave of pain struck him. It’d
seemed that, in the process of losing so much space, the guy in his belly now had the contours of his
hands, feet and face visible from the outside, and the other Preds could see what the deal really was. The
poor bastard was not only not digested in the least, he was still alive and whole. Zack was surprised; he’d
naturally assumed that Oscar was at least partially done digesting someone after a week, but it looked like
he’d picked the guy up mere minutes ago!

Zack frowned. “Oscar, no offense, but your digestive tract is really slow. Is it always like this for
you?”
 Oscar sighed. “Sometimes.”

Lamont snickered. “I’ve got another idea. Do you know what I do when my food overstays their
welcome?”

Before Oscar could guess, Lamont pushed him onto his back, and then rolled him onto his
stomach. Then, Lamont sat on his back, crushing the air out of him.

Out of the three guys, Lamont was the largest, and built the heaviest, while Oscar was
undoubtedly the smallest. Oscar yelped as he was crushed, and Lamont wiggled, tauntingly, as he ground
Oscar into the couch.

Zack held up a finger to question this. “Uh, Lamont? How is this helping?”

Lamont smirked. “Sometimes, when your stomach doesn’t feel like digesting, you’ve got to do
the work yourself.”

Oscar belched again, and then again, all of the last remnants of trapped gas finally being squeezed
out by Lamont’s weight crushing it out of him. As Zack watched, he heard Oscar’s prey screaming within,
likely painfully aware of what was happening, and, as his screams finally reached a crescendo, they were
suddenly silenced by one last squish from Lamont’s ass, and one last hearty CRUNCH of Oscar’s
stomach finally finishing him off.

Oscar moaned, his expression turning from confusion to one of elation. It was the most expressive
Zack had seen him be. “Yes, yes, finally….!”

Lamont stood up to admire his work, and Oscar, as if driven by the instinct to digest, began
grinding his stomach into the couch of his own volition, if only to crush his prey even further and speed
up the process. Zack ran his fingers through Oscar’s hair as he watched his stomach gradually shrink and
round out, the hard, jutting edges of his prey’s mangled limbs giving way to soft, jiggling belly. Oscar’s
cheeks flushed, and his tongue hung loose, and Zack recognized that expression all too well… the feeling
of finally being satisfied.

After what felt like an eternity, Oscar sat up, panting, his stomach now much rounder and softer,
and Zack couldn’t help but to get another belly rub in. Oscar scratched the back of his head, now having
his senses back, his original wariness returning as he eyed both of the other Preds suspiciously. “Thanks.”

“No problem!” Zack said, smiling. “So, are you still up for a movie?”

“I’m game,” Lamont chimed in, idly rubbing his own gut, which had gone still in all of the
commotion.
 Oscar looked between the two, his default harsh expression now apparent on his face. Zack knew
he was confused at how pleasant they were trying to be, and that’s not even mentioning how they’d
helped him in such a vulnerable position. He shrugged. “I guess.”

Zack grinned.