François watched the last minute preparations unfold, and shivered briefly.
“Cold?”
He turned at the sound of a friendly female voice from right beside him. A fairly short girl, dark-haired and very pretty, Oriental, probably about his age in her mid-twenties, gave him a lovely smile. He smiled back at her, with a quick, nervous laugh.
“No, I’m not cold. Just… excited.”
“And a bit nervous?” the girl suggested mischievously.
“And a bit nervous,” he agreed, and grinned. “I’m François.”
“May,” she introduced herself. “I won’t ask you if this is your first time.” Her eyes twinkled a little in amusement. François laughed.
“What gave me away as a newbie?” he joked.
“Ah, you can always tell those who’ve never been eaten before.” She returned the grin, and François realised he was not certain whether to feel relaxed or tense. Strangely, he did not feel too self-conscious as he stood naked in front of her. Perhaps because she was naked too –as he pretended not to notice too blatantly– as was everyone else.
“So you’re sure you want to do this?” he asked her.
“Oh, absolutely,” May said in a cheerful voice. “I’ve been looking forward to it! Being here now, it’s like… waking up as a child on Christmas day.”
François laughed again. “I know what you mean.”
Their conversation was interrupted as a young woman approached their section of the table, and sat down at competitor n°7’s seat. All talking among the twenty volunteers was immediately hushed, as they turned to look, in unison, at the person who was hopefully about to eat them. A few excited murmurs could be heard from within the small group. “My god, she’s beautiful…” a man standing near François whispered, awed.
Competitor n°7 was a girl in her late teens or very early twenties, with long, dark blond hair and dark eyes; she wore a loose white t-shirt which left her mid-riff tantalisingly bare, and revealed the shape of her medium-sized, round breasts without, however, accentuating them. For some reason, she had drawn a black line at the top of each cheek, below her eyes. It gave her a curiously exotic air. She took her seat, and sighed, seeming remarkably pleased as she looked over her patiently waiting food. She smiled, a teasing, dazzling smile, and leaned forward, resting her arms on the edge of the table and her chin on her forearms, gazing at them.
“Hello, my tasty ones!” she greeted them playfully, her voice carefree, girlish, and definitely excited. Her twenty prey volunteers replied all at the same time, some of them waving, and the girl laughed.
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