The Hilton
by Edwin Louis Nunez

 In the far corner of the room the dead body that had once been Captain Albert Larson called out. Norman Harris looked on, fascinated by his own imagination. He hadn’t had a bite to eat in 2 weeks, and the concept of dining on his former Captain held its own morbid pleasures. It was meat after all, wasn’t it? Human meat, but meat nonetheless.

Norman tried to fight it, but the temptation was too strong; the thought of food was maddening. He waded in on the lifeless body tearing into the frayed flesh of the stomach area. Careful to pick out the tiny bits of metal—grenade shrapnel, he assumed—he sunk his teeth into the moist, leathery meat of Albert’s abdomen.

The flesh tore away with a degree of difficulty because the body, after all, was still fresh. Albert’s blood was still coagulating, but his meat was cold and dead. Norman could still see the man’s death. Albert was dropped into the hole bleeding and crying for his mother. How long ago had that been? Time in the Hilton, was different. A day was a month, and a month was a year, and a year was a lifetime.

Norman closed his eyes and tried to imagine himself in his own backyard where his wife was holding their infant son, Jeremy, and the air was fragrant with grilled steaks and onions. However, no amount of mind trickery could silence the screams in his head as he devoured Albert’s flesh and soul.

"Help." A voice whispered from the dirt mound in the middle of the room. "Please, help me."

"Reggie?" Norm whispered. He looked at Albert to verify it wasn’t him; the body was still just as lifeless as before, only now a large, dark hole had been carved into his belly.

"Reggie that you?"

"Norm? Norm, please get me out of here."

"Reggie, that can’t be you. Can it?"

Reggie Denton had been buried alive some time ago. The rest of the guys in the Hilton were held at gun point until his muffled screams could be heard no more. Even then, they were inclined to dig him up. But what was the use? He was better off.

"Reggie, we wanted to get you out. They were going to kill us if we tried."

"That’s okay, please let me out. It’s so damn stuffy down here."

"Okay. Okay, yeah sure." Norm began clawing into the loose dirt mound. Each handful removed brought Reggie’s moans closer to the surface.

"Shh, the bastards will hear you." Norm looked up to see if anyone was coming. Only the still blackness of night looked on.

The closer he got to Reggie, the stronger the odor of rotting meat had become. Norman was unaware of the vile stench, and of the gentle breeze that began carrying it into the outer camp. He wanted to free his friend, and nothing else mattered.

Norm’s fingernails scraped along the lid of the wooden box Reggie had been buried in.

"Pay dirt, buddy. Look out, I’m punching though it."

He drove his fist into the wood and it shattered easily. A jagged piece of splinter lanced his hand like a spear, but he ignored it. The Hilton had numbed him of the physical pain.

Norman reached inside the box and froze. Reality crashed down around him. It was like a slap in the face by a cold, bony hand. He was aware of his own pain, and the pain of all the men he watched die for this stupid cause. The body of Reggie Denton was not only dead, but in the process of being devoured by worms and maggots and other undesirable insects.

"Oh God Reggie. You can’t be dead. I dug as fast as I could." Norman wept for the first time since coming to the Hilton. Strength was his closest ally, but not even that could hold him together now. He put his face into his dirt caked hands and wept like a child. He wanted his wife. He wanted to be in his own bed while the world moved on around him.

Norman climbed out of the hole and crawled back to his feast. He returned to the stomach and pulled off a handful of salty meat. It was disgusting; he was disgusting.

They turned me into an animal, he thought. How will I ever be able to face my wife again? Tears streamed down his cheeks. He bit into the flesh, repulsed by what he’d become.

When the cage door began rattling a wave of anger rose in the pit of Norm’s stomach. This was the end. He would be the last of his company to be killed in Hanoi —The Hilton was the name given to the prison camp by the soldiers who were condemned to die in it.

Two Vietnamese soldiers entered the cage, one was carrying a rifle the other appeared empty handed. It was dark and very difficult to see. Unless you were a resident of course. Then the darkness was your only friend.

"Do you see what you did?" Norm asked the soldiers in a very low, toneless voice.

The two soldiers spoke to each other in their native tongue. Their voices sounded confused, and even a little scared.

"I said, do you see what you did?"

One of the soldiers began fumbling for his flashlight. When he found it he immediately shone its bright light in the direction of the American’s voice. They saw Norman sitting in the corner Indian style and he appeared to be eating something. They knew it couldn’t be right; they hadn’t brought food down here in weeks.

The soldier directed the light a little lower and saw the body the American was eating.

"You turned me into a fucking animal." Norm said in the same toneless voice.

"A fucking…ANIMAL!!!" He bolted to his feet and lunged at the two startled Vietnamese soldiers.

"SHOOT HIM! SHOOT HIM! SHOOT HIM!" The soldier holding the flashlight yelled.

The soldier with the gun broke his momentary paralysis, raised his weapon and fired. The bullet found its mark and entered Norman Harris’s brain. His body stiffened and dropped into the open grave of Reggie Denton.

As the two soldiers buried the American’s body they noticed the peculiar grin on his face.

"They are easily broken."

"Yes, but why is this one smiling?"

©2002 Edwin Louis Nunez