The man with the knife grins. Serrated edges dangle above a crawling body while a bullfrog croaks on top of a dead tree stump.
Laughter spews out of this man’s mouth. The body flails its fleshy fins like a fish ripped out of a pond…helpless…only so much time left…
He snatches a handful of hair, and then smothers the face into the muddy earth. Dirty hair embraces between his talons while he lifts the head—gooey globules drip from clogged nostrils.
The man with the knife drags him toward the pit.
The body slides down a muddy maw, and then drifts into a sea of fur and teeth. Little hands carry the body as if they were waves whisking away a piece of driftwood. A scream sits in his mouth while nipping incisors excavate into the bleeding throat. The sea of little hands crawl, tear, and chatter the song of a million bites.