Dead Meat, Still Moving

I was in the break room the day Old Smokey fell into the meat grinder.
I brought my lunch from home: leftover carnitas I got at Casa Maya the night before. I had a bottle of seltzer I got from the vending machine. Nobody else drinks it but me. It was quiet. Most people go out at lunch, mainly to get away from the smell of blood and animal carcasses. I never minded the smell all that much. It beats smelling live animals.
"Connie! Come quick!" Sam yelled, breaking down the door. What's his problem?
"Jesus, Sam, I'm eating!" I snapped at him.
"That's not important!" The kid was out of breath.
"Then what's wrong?"
"Old Smokey!"
"What about him?"
"He fell into the meat grinder!!!"
Oh god.
I shot up and burst out of the break room, sweat pouring down my face. Old Smokey had worked here at Pepper Processing for almost four whole decades. Being a man in his late seventies with no kids of his own, he was like a grandfather to most of us at the plant.
And here he was, ground to a fine paste.
I covered my mouth in horror as Sam puked behind me. Everyone was surrounding the large grinder and staring at the mess underneath. Bits of hair and fabric coated the blood soaked floor. Tiny bits of finger and ear remained unchewed by the massive machine. Trey, Smokey's assistant, emerged from the grinder, clutching a mangled hand.
"...It got stuck…" Trey was pale. He fiddled with the hand.
I looked at Sam. He was still puking his guts out. I was tempted to make fun of the kid, but I couldn't. My mind was racing.
"Where's Miss Pepper?" I asked.
"On her way, just two minutes out." Trey replied.
As soon as he said that, a slender, silver haired woman emerged from the entrance of the processing room.
Ophelia Pepper, fourth-generation owner of Pepper Processing.
"Where's his body?" Ophelia asked. She took off her aviators and handed them to me.
"In a puddle on the floor." I pointed to it.
She walked up to the puddle, kneeling mere inches from Smokey's profane form. Her knees were caked in blood. She bit her lip. 
"Did he have family?" She choked out.
"No ma'am." I responded.
She frowned. "How?"
Trey rubbed his head. "Shit, man, I don't know. I just turned around to grab some meat and he was gone almost instantly."
Ophelia swore under her breath.
"Okay, Connie, Sam. Come with me. We're going to check the security footage."
Trey looked confused. "What about me?"
"Watch him."
We left for the security room. The air was tense. My stomach felt heavy.
"We know what happened. Why watch him die?" Sam said.
"Because, I need to know if that fucker had anything to do with this."
“I highly doubt Trey had anything to do with this, boss.”
“We won’t know until we see.”
Ophelia has always been paranoid about her employees. Random locker checks, surprise drug tests, even polygraphs if she REALLY didn’t like you. Only two employees have ever gone without one of these things, and one of them is a puddle of gore on the ground.
The other one? Well, that’s me. Boss took a liking to me when she hired me.
I remembered little bits of our conversations throughout the years, getting to know more about her, before being reminded that one of my closest friends is dead on the security camera.
“Okay, when did he fall, Samuel?”
“Well, I heard Trey screaming Smokey’s name around 7.”
I watched Ophelia meticulously thumb through the footage until we got to the moment. We watched the last moments of Old Smokey’s life unfold.
I don’t think any of us could have anticipated what we were about to see.
In the grainy footage, we watched as the lovable hick we’d all grown so close to look into the camera and mouth some words before taking a step into the grinder.
“What’s he saying?” I asked.
Sam leaned in. “It looks like he’s saying ‘Dead Meat, Still Moving.’”
Ophelia turned around for a second to ask a question before the volume on the monitors turned itself to max, playing Smokey’s blood curdling screams at an ear splitting level.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!?” Ophelia screamed. I could barely hear her over the sounds.
“TURN IT OFF!!!” I yelled.
She turned back around and wildly pressed buttons and unplugged things. The screams had now turned into discordant chants.
“DEAD MEAT. STILL MOVING.” They said.
Before I could even begin to think about what that could mean, Ophelia kicked the monitor, cutting her leg and killing the noise.
“God…” She groaned as she pulled her leg out of the screen.
“Ophelia?!?” I ran up to her.
“I’m fine. We have problems bigger than a bloody leg.” She caught her balance and made her way back to the processing room. Sam and I followed close behind.
Both Trey and Smokey’s remains were nowhere to be seen.
Oh god.
“...What…” Ophelia muttered.
A small droplet of blood fell on my nose.
No.
“AAAAAAAAAAAA-” Trey screamed before slamming against the concrete floor with a sickening cracking sound. He splattered all over the place. Sam and I were luckily wearing aprons, but Ophelia wasn’t nearly as lucky. Her white parka was ruined, stained with her employee’s blood. She screamed.
“TREY?!?” Sam yelled. He grabbed his friend, immediately letting go to throw up. I kept my eyes transfixed on the ceiling, witnessing something I’ll never be able to unsee.
The blob of Old Smokey was moving.
It slid across the ceiling with a sickening sound, kind of like mac and cheese. It left a trail of blood like a slug. It was without form or figure.
It was Old Smokey.
“H-He’s alive.”
Ophelia looked up and saw the blob. She fell on the ground and started backing away.
“Wh-Wha-Wh-”
Smokey reached down with tendrils of ground human and slowly lifted Trey’s corpse into itself. Sam recovered and looked up just in time to watch Smokey eat Trey. His body entered the blob, the sounds of breaking bones all too audible.
“Nope.” Sam said, running to the door. He pulled as hard as he could, but to no avail. “THERE’S GODDAMN FLESH IN THE LOCK!!!”
“WHAT?!” I yelled.
Suddenly, the flesh extended a tendril holding Trey’s head.
“Hi.” It said. It had a bubbling pop at the end of that word.
Sam puked again.
“Trey? Smokey?” Was all I could say.
“No. Yes.”
“What are you?”
“Meat.”
“D-Did you kill them?”
“Yes.”
Ophelia was starting to cry.
“Why?”
Meat made a disgusting smile. “Food.”
“F-Food?”
“Mmmmmm… Food…” Meat pulled Trey’s head back into the mass and slid across the room to the ground at intense speeds.
Sam kicked at the door between dry heaves. I heard it begin to crack.
“KEEP HIM AWAY!!!”
I grabbed a pair of trimmers. It’s not much but it may be what we need. Ophelia crawled back as fast as she could.
“CONNIEEEEE!!!!!” She was sobbing. I’ve never seen anyone so afraid.
“Whiny.” Meat said, making a beeline for her.
“GET AWAY!” I yelled, snipping off one of it’s tendrils. I expected it to reattach, but it withered.
“Ow.” Was all Meat said. It grabbed Ophelia’s leg as she screamed in fear.
“CONNIE PLEASE! PLEASE!”
“Quiet.” Meat said as he raised his mass into a crushing manner.
I’m not going to let her die.
I plunged the trimmers into the dead center of Meat and expanded the bite. Instead of a single word, Meat screamed and recoiled. I pulled the blades upward, cutting Meat further. It was in pain.
I looked up and saw Trey’s head. It was crying without tears.
Moving as quickly as possible, I pulled out and snipped Meat’s neck. It squelched, bubbled, and popped. Trey’s head looked at me.
“Hurts.”
The mass turned into smelly, hot liquid and spread across the room.
The door opened and Sam fell on the sidewalk outside.
“Guys.” He said as I helped Ophelia to her feet. “We…”
“We’re free.”
Ophelia said nothing and hugged me.
“I need a mental health break.” I said.
“Granted.”
We left the Pepper Processing Plant, the memories of the night fresh on our minds.
What was Meat?
Why did it hurt Trey and Old Smokey?
As Sam drove us away, I looked around.
Ophelia fell asleep on my shoulder and Sam smiled.
The questions don’t matter.
My friends are alive.
That matters.
Category:RTWC23
Category:Dismemberment
Category:Beings