Bon Appétit
Cloud Strife was STARVING. It wasn't just a figure of speech; he actually couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten. Was it two days ago? Three? He'd totally lost track of time in Hojo's labs. Being in total darkness didn't help either.
"Oh, man. When am I gonna EAT?"
He began pounding on the door of his cell.
"HEY! Can you hear me? HEY!"
The door suddenly swung open, knocking him backwards.
"Here." Food was thrown roughly into the cell. "Eat it all, now. I can't have my prize specimen wasting away on me."
Cloud rushed over to where he'd heard the food fall, groping around for it. He picked it up and, after wiping the dirt off it, bit into it hungrily, heedless of what kind of food it was. It turned out to be some sort of meat. Very rare meat, to be exact. Almost raw, and definitely still bloody. After taking a few bites, he couldn't stomach any more and spat it out in disgust: he'd always hated the taste of blood.
"What's wrong? Don't you like it? I made it special for you."
"You—Ugh! I'm not eating this!"
"Hmm. You didn't mind it so much when it was called Zeke. Or was it Zack? All the specimens seem to blend together. Oh well, bon appétit!" Hojo turned and left the cell, closing it behind him.
Cloud knelt alone in the dark, alone but for the last remnant of Zack. Suddenly, he was racked by another wave of hunger cramps. Abhorrent as the act may be, if you're starving, you do whatever you have to in order to stay alive. Without thinking, he seized the meat and began tearing at it hungrily. One last rational thought occurred to him:
"Hey, at least this way he'll never leave me. Ever…"