Scattered about the room were several human bones, some high-heeled shoes, and plenty of rats. In the opposite right-hand corner, there was a coffin-sized pit-half filled with an ugly, brownish-red, foul sludge. To the left of the pit lay a partly eaten female torso with a fully bloated abdomen, covered with live, hair-like, red worms. Now he knew why most of Michael's victims were never found. Either Michael had turned cannibal, or these rats had been weaned on human flesh. A horrifying thought. Sooner or later, Michael would return to finish his work on the policeman, and here he was, utterly defenseless. Then, he remembered the gun-it was lying on the floor where the police officer dropped it. There had to be a way out.
