This movie is my 2nd favorite movie of all time. I was so disappointed to see only one fanficion on here! Although it's an extremely creative and interesting one, it wasn't quite what I was looking for ;) So, I decided to write this particular story and maybe a few more if this one interests some people.
This story takes off from when John Boyd is being healed by Hart and Ives after Ives was forced to make a choice between living and dying. Except, instead of him violently rebelling, he accepts his fate as a cannible and so much more ;P.
I take no credit for these characters or original screen play/story from the movie "Ravenous".
Blood Lust
John Boyd looked at himself in the pathetic, filthy mirror upon his door. His face was sticky with blood and cold sweat. His eyes were sunken in from lack of sleep, but glowed brightly. There was some thing new brewing inside of him, some thing he couldn't make out. It could be good, or it could be evil. His vision blurred as he gazed more intently into his own eyes. Good or evil? He was roused by a knocking on his door. "Boyd! Dinner!" Colonel Hart called into the crevice of the door and door frame. His boots thundered off toward the main house. John cleared his throat, about to reply, but decided to simply keep whatever irrevelant responce he was going to make to himself.
The main house was nice and warm. A stew cooked above a big fire in the kitchen and there was a second fire in the corner of the room. The smell of meat being cooked along with potatoes and onions filled the room. Colonel Hart was pacing back and forth, preparing for dinner. As John stumbled to take a seat, loud boots pounded upon the deck. They wandered around for a moment, then paused. John's eyes wandered to the door. His heart rate slowed as well as time around him. Hart's humming faded away and all he could hear was his loud anxious breathing. A flashback to the rib-eye steak at his celebratory dinner flashed across his mind. His stomach knotted and his throat clenched. He watched the door handle slowly turn and the door slowly slide open. In came the devil.
John was afraid to look at Colonel Ives. There was some kind of power Ives had over him that was unexplainable. His voice had to have some sort of spell within it. John could see Ives out of his peripherals staring at him. Hart handed John a bowl of hot stew with a grin on his face. "Stew al la Knox." John stared into the stew like the mirror upon his door. It looked like the water was blood, the potatoes were organs, and the meat were muscles. Though to any man this would seem horrific, to John it was heaven sent. He took ahold of his spoon and began to eat madly. His hands went from quivering to steady. The knot is his stomach released. It was a high no peyote compared to.
Ives sat right next to John as Hart handed him his bowl. He twirlled his spoon a moment before tasting Hart's creation, inspired by Knox. After taking his first bite, he sat back with a loving sigh. Hart hurled himself into a chair before digging into his food. He began to trail on about Plato and Aristotle, blubbering about humanity. John's high cut out all of Hart's ranting. He drank the rest of his dinner and sat back, laying his head on the top of the couch. A grin spread slowly on his face as his body went numb. Hart stared at him for a moment, frightened slightly at John's strange behavior. Ives eyed him for a moment, then looked at Hart. "Colonel Hart, I think it's time for you start a fire in Capitan Boyd's quarters. He seems... incoherant." Hart slurped up a few more bites then wisked himself away to John's room.
As soon as the door shut behind Hart, Ives rose to his feet and pulled John to his. His eyes were glazed over with the caniverous high. Ives's lips twitched. "Stay with us, Boyd," he murmered. Ives had watched John's decension ever since he got him to try it. He had lost every thing and so, he ate only to keep Ives happy. Although he had a newly found power and strength, he couldn't care less. This was angering Ives. He grabbed John by the sides of his face, forcing him to look at him. "Boooooyd!" John's eyes wandered around a moment before meeting with Ives. They were glowing and slightly diolated. "Get it together, John." Ives's voice faded in and out through flashbacks. Martha, Windeego, Cleeves... John smiled helplessly at Ives. Frusterated, Ives shoved him away. John's grin turned to laughing quickly. Ives brewed as he watched him. "What's the matter, Ives?!" John said loudly through his laughing. Ives began to approach him, but John's playful banter quickly switched over to fury. "Am I not what you wanted?" John grabbed Ives by the coat and shoved him against the wall.
Staring at each other, there was a moment. A shock of energy exchanged between them. John's fury and Ives's amusement. He began to chuckle into John's face defiantly. John's anger escalated to a point of no return. He punched Ives directly in his nose, taking a few steps backwards as he did. Ives was hunched over, touching his nose delicately with his hand. Blood splattered against the hard wood floor. John's eyes grew wide and his stomach growled as if he hadn't had a meal in days. Ives looked up at him, dabbing his nose carefully. "Ah, the smell... Gets you every time." John continued to back away. Everything but the blood on Ives's hand blurred and swayed. Ives stood straight, looking over his hand for a moment. "Here," he beckoned, holding his hand out toward John. He shook a bit, beckoning him over. John's eyes grew fixated on the blood.
The smell triggered memories of Reich. His beloved Private Reich who had served him well above and below ground. His dead eyes, blackened rotten flesh, and silly grin couldn't keep John's hunger at bay. Neither could his morals... Nothing could keep him at bay anymore. His boots began to drag him toward Ives. "Cooome on," Ives called. John savagely took Ives's hand, falling against him so hard that Ives hit the wall again. They slid to the ground together and comfortably sat, John against Ives. His tongue smoothly licked the blood off of Ives's fingertips. The feeling of John's soft, delicate tongue sent shivers down Ives's spine. A thrilled smirk came over his bloodied lips as he watched Boyd thouroughly lap up as much of the reddness as he could. Dirty and unmoral thoughts began to run through his mind, looking past John's tongue and mouth to his slightly exposed chest and tense thieghs. He let his head hit the wall gently as he absorbed these intense urges.
His senses were heightened tenfold. The blood was so warm and creamy. It was to a point where he just wanted to rip Ives's fingers off and gorge on them. But the licking, along with Ives's free hand gently stroking his head, seemed so much more enjoyable. Soon, John had moved from Ives's fingers to his wrist. Ives moaned at this, pulling John toward him. John, completely infatuated and blood drunk, simply went along with Ives as if Ives was going to give more of himself to him. John began to fiercely kiss and gently bite Ives's neck. He could smell Knox on his clothes and in his hair. He cried out in a blissful shout, burying his face against Ives. Ives's eyes rolled to the back of his head in pleasure. He pulled Boyd against him tightly, wanting much more from Boyd. John lifted his head, facing Ives with a blood stained face and his bright blue eyes swarming. Ives stared at him for a moment, gazing over his face, then chuckled lightly. Boyd, delirious and starving, stared at Ives's lips intently. Without hesitation, Ives leaned in and sucked John's lips against his.
Boyd accepted Ives for a moment, but as Ives injected his slick tongue into his mouth, he quickly scrambled away from him, breathing heavily as his high was quickly snuffed. Ives, still grinning, stared at him while savoring the taste of his own blood in his mouth. The door creaked open and Hart hurried in, shutting the door quickly behind him. He froze at the sight of John and Ives on the floor, bloodied. "Every thing okay in here?" he asked nervously. John rushed to his feet, grabbed his coat and wisked out the door. Ives had Hart help him up with a sigh. He dusted himself off and wiped off his face. "Every thing is fine, Colonel. Boyd is off to bed, as well as I. Kill the fires when you're done, eh?" He motioned toward the fires and excused himself out.
Slamming his bedroom door behind him, Boyd began having a panic attack. His breathing didn't cease and all he could think about was what had just happened. Him and Ives... His guts were still tingling. He continued to look at his door, worriedly... but slightly hopeful that there would be a slight knock at his door. He laid down on his bed, hugging his pillow against his chest for comfort. He shut his eyes, listening to his own rapid heartbeat. It was deafening. And then, there were footsteps. Growing louder... Two shadows stopped at his door. He sat up, staring intently at the door handle. "Ives?" he asked loudly.
Ok, I just wanted to see what kind of feedback I'll get on this before I continue. Just one more chapter, if any at all :) Also, I only have WordPad on my computer so if there are any spelling or grammatical errors, please let me know! Thanks!