He sat there in the diner. Same as he always had for years, same as he always would for years. He was Zack Ciccirelli. A thirty-one year old Jack of All Trades from Madison, Wisconsin. As long as anyone in that town could rember he had been there, doing whatever odd job he could to eek by on his rent for his small apartment. And as far as he was concerned, that was the way it always would be.

"Hey Zack, how you been lately?" This came from Dolly, the eternally perky waitress. No matter what had happened in their town, she knew about it first, and always had all the detail. It was her who had broken the news about the trucker the police had found. Even before it appeared in the newspapers, she knew.

"I've been pretty good. Lotta jobs been around lately." Zack said, staring into his cup of coffee, looking at his reflection in the sugar and cream sludge. Hair that needed cutting, thin goatee that should be shaved. "Well, who cares?" he thought to himself.

Usually at this hour, the diner would be filled to the brim, but after that trucker had been found, it didn't seem like anyone wanted to come outside anymore.

The diner's cook, Tim, turned on the local news. Anyone could have predicted the story. "That reporters new." Zack thought. "Quite a looker" She seemed to be over eager to report the story she had been told. "Police as of yet have no leads in the case, however, they suspect that whoever has commited this crime, has likely served time in a mental institution, or has at least gone under some type of therapy." And here came the gruesome details everyone knew. "The trucker, who has been identified as Ty Burrel, on a routine delivery from Michigan, was found parked outside a hospital dead, after apparently bleeding to death from human bite wounds. Police say that much of the man was mangled beyond recognition, and identification was only possible after DNA testing. Police also belive that more then one person is involved."

"This is one fucked up world." Zack said, grimacing at the TV. "I mean, why did they eat him? Couldn't they just, you know, kill him and take his stuff?

"Well, it obviously wasn't a normal guy. trucker probably picked him up, and the guy killed him. Just a sicko. Plent of 'em in the world." This drew murmers of truth throughout the few people inside the diner.

"Police think more then one person ate him though. Why would he let more then one person in his truck?" Zack asked.

"Well, don't ask me." said Tim.

It was only a few minutes after those words had been spoken that a car alarm wen't off, followed by the sounds of broken glass.

"We got ourselves a thief!" Shouted Tim, grabbing the shotgun from under the counter. Most people wondered why he even kept one in such a small town, but with the recent murder, many people looked at it as a smart choice. Tim, Zack, and a few other men from the diner ran outside before the thief could steal anything.

"Hey you!" Shouted Tim, shooting off a shot in the air. "You get away from their right now!"

The person turned around staring in what looked to be dead shock, and ran off into the woods. A man went to run after him, but Tim held him back. "Aint nothin' out there but a whole buncha hunters. That guy won't try anything with them."

(this indicates an amount of time has passed)

The police had arrived on the scene quickly, most likely hoping to catch the murdering cannibal. When a quick search of the woods had turned up nothing, the police took fingerprints from the car and went back to the station.

"Think it was the cannibal guy?" Asked Zack.

"Nah. That guy was just an petty thief. Nothing to worry about."

"I don't know..."

"Come on boy! It aint like he a zombie or nothin!" Tim said in his typical southern drawl.

Zack looked at those woods for a while. He had never had a feeling like this. Something was about to happen.

Officer Matt Berry sat in his chair at the police station. For a hick town sheriff, he sure had been recieving a lot of work lately. A murder and a attempted robbery in the same week. Well, such was his profession. He was now just waiting for the scans on those fingerprints. "Probably the Zegers brother." He said aloud. "Those boys aren't nothing but trouble.

Finally the phone rang. "Officer Matt Barry here."

"Hey Matt." Said the lab tech from the other line. "How old were those print and skin samples you sent me?

"Just a few hours, why?"

"Well... They're dead"

"Well the skin isn't on his body anymore, shouldn't it be dead?

"No, I mean, it's... Rotten. It's been dead for at least a week. Probably more.

"How the hell is that possible?"

"It isn't. Look, I'll run some test and get back to you in the morning, okay?"

"Yeah... Sure. Later.

He hung up the phone and thought for a minute. Week old dead flesh on a hour old crime scene? How was that possible?

He decided to put it off until morning and watch some TV. He was watching a commercial for a new model car, when.

"Please stay tuned for this special news bulletin."