The restaurant wasn't too far of a walk. In the meantime Rutherford and Henry got to know Patrick a little better. Rutherford, however, seemed hesitant on getting to know him. It was as if he were trying to avoid him, almost altogether.

With Rutherford's growing silence Henry became more and more agitated. What was wrong with him? Why was he actively avoiding a rather nice person? Patrick was doing something kind for them, something that would have came from pity rather than the goodness of someone's heart. Sure, their jobs in the scientific world would eventually pay good but right now they were still seniors in college. Pay is scarce. So why avoid? Why be petty like this? Surely Ruth was at least somewhat self-aware of the situation. He couldn't be this thick skulled to-

"Henry?"

It was Ruth staring at him, a hand on his chest.

Looking around, he found himself a step away from going into traffic. Henry took a glance behind himself. Jesus, he almost walked an entire half block more than he was supposed to. How agitated was he?

"S-Sorry, just.. lost in thought." Though trying to hide it, panic and irritation were present in his tone. Rutherford either didn't notice or didn't seem to care, as he took his hand and led him quietly back to the restaurant.

Henry was frozen, staring at Ruth's hand clasped in his own. His heart picked up its pace the more he stared. What the fuck was going on?

As the two got back to the restaurant, Rutherford stood beside the door. Looking him up and down with the same stoic stare he'd had since meeting Patrick, Ruth asked: "Are you ok?"

Henry's cheeks flushed with a pale-colored pink. Was it embarrassment? Was it panic? Was it built up irritation? Or maybe it was...

Henry rubbed the back of his neck, seeming a little awkward. "Yeah, I'm good," he lied through his teeth.

Rutherford stared at him a minute more before shrugging. "Let's go in then." Henry nodded in agreement as they walked inside. Patrick could be seen sitting in a booth in what felt like the middle of the restaurant. The booth was empty besides himself, three glasses of water, and a blue Ramune that sat next to Patrick.

"God, finally. I'm starving," Rutherford mumbled, taking a seat opposite side of Patrick. Patrick gave a smile and a small comment. "I thought you guys had ditched me for a minute. You ok?"

"Yup, never better," Henry said, hoping Patrick wouldn't catch on to the subtle sarcasm. As he took a seat next to Ruth the waitress came over. With the customer service smile plastered across her face, she greeted the trio. "This should be the entire party, then? Are we all ready to order?"

"I am but I'm not sure about them. Can we have a few more minutes?" Patrick asked, to which the waitress nodded and left the vicinity. Henry was engrossed in his menu, checking and reading through each option. Rutherford only glanced at the menu before asking Patrick in a hushed voice, "Can we find somewhere private? I need to talk to you about Henry."

Patrick was confused for a moment, though in an instant his expression changed to concern. He looked at Henry, then around the restaurant. "There's nowhere private in here, and the bathrooms would echo."

"I know where to go." Rutherford got up, gesturing Patrick to follow him. Patrick readily agreed, getting out of the booth and following Rutherford.

The two traversed through the seating area to the fire exit on the other side. Opening the door carefully as to not trip the alarm, Rutherford pushed the door and held it open for Patrick. Patrick mouthed a thank you, letting Rutherford close the door behind them.

"So, what exactly is it that you need to talk to me about Henry?" Patrick inquired, but Rutherford didn't answer. The only response that Patrick got in return was the loud rumbling of Rutherford's stomach.

"R-Rutherford?" Patrick pushed, the pit in his own stomach appearing once again. Something... didn't feel right.

He didn't have time to think. By the time he was opening his mouth to speak a hand slammed itself over his lips. Patrick stood there, shaking with unbearable fear as he stared into Rutherford's now cold and lifeless eyes. Eyes that wouldn't blink. Eyes that didn't hold a single emotion except... hunger. Patrick's own eyes moved down to look at the hand over his mouth. Did Ruth's skin grow a shade grayer all of a sudden?

He closed his eyes. No. It was his imagination. This is all in your head. This is all in your head. This is all in your-

As he opened his eyes he was met with a huge mouth, agape and filled with teeth. Such sharp teeth. Oh God!

Patrick viciously slapped Ruth across the face, earning a yowl of pain and the freedom of his mouth. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU?"

Rutherford held his face in his hand, glaring at Patrick. Without a word, Patrick was tackled to the ground. He was about to scream when he felt something sink into his neck. All that could come out now were choked gurgles of protest as Rutherford ripped out his jugular with his bare teeth. He gulped it down with ravenous hunger before stripping Patrick of his clothes.

Patrick tried to fight back but each time he did Rutherford would take another bite of him, slurping that part and the next down as if he hadn't eaten in days. Tears pooled and spilled down Patrick's face, silently crying as he wasn't able to make a sound. He lay there, haphazardly torn apart, blood and guts oozing out any hole made to his body. He squirmed in a sea of his own bodily fluids until there wasn't anything he could do but give up. The last thing he witnessed before his vision turned to black was that of a boney creature huddled over his body, grabbing handfuls of intestine and tearing them to shreds.