Wrote this initially on paper, sometime last year, and I wanted to post this here even if it is my first tg(:re) fic. I also know it's short.
There's nothing he could do but eat.
Darkness and silence loomed the room and it reeked of meat. A young man, barely mature, sitting on the middle of the room on the ground gobbles his food. Even without light, he can clearly smell the aroma of the meaty and juicy food he was given by the people outside his cage-like room.
The juiciness of the meat quenches his thirst that he let out a satisfying moan. The liquid substance serving as his solvent to his food, the solute, oozes slowly out of his mouth. Mixing with his drool, it falls to the ground. He wolfs down and finishes his meal till bones were only left out.
As soon as he's done, the male backs himself into a corner, holding his head in between his hands and he cries. He falls to his knees, denying the feeling of a full stomach. Eyes wide open with disbelief the whole time.
There's nothing he could do but accept.
Maintaining his position, his quiet cries turns into loud sobs. The pale man couldn't comprehend what happened. Surely, eating is nothing but giving him nutrition but there's something about what he ate that's bugging him. He couldn't place a finger on it, though. He realizes this and desperate laughter soon comes out from his throat.
The volume ever increasing.
There's nothing he could do but wait.
It's been days since he last ate. His stomach is rather getting emptier by the hour. His room still has the remains of his previous meal and he avoids gazing at the bones, rotting slowly in his presence. The stench stays strong and he cries himself to sleep.
There's nothing he could do but remember.
During those days, he would think back on the times before his capture. He remembers the delicious food his mother would cook for him, especially his favorite. He recalls the proudest expression his dad wore upon graduating the academy at second place. He tries not to remember the blonde hair and cold blue eyes of the girl who beat him first place. He chuckles at the memories, wishing things had been different.
There's nothing he could do but break.
A week later, the entrance to his temporary dwelling opens and a child-like figure fully covered in bandages and donning a cloak enters along with other figures who he guesses are to clean up his mess.
His focus goes back on the surprising form of a child. He tries not to think of strangling the life out of her for locking him up. He holds himself back.
Looks can be deceiving and the figure to his focus is no exception.
She asks a question out of the blue as the other people–ghouls, he corrects himself– left the cell, not forgetting to close the door. Darkness surrounds him again.
"Was it good?"
He knows she's referring to that last meal. Even if he can't be seen, he reluctantly nods and he can only imagine the beam behind that bandaged mask. The childish figure abruptly stands straight, right hand reaching for her chin and she snaps her fingers, as if in remembrance.
"Oh how silly of me! Let me rephrase that." She chuckles and he steels himself for the ugly truth.
"Were they delicious?"
They, as in, lives that were taken away. As in, they that meant something more than just food. And they, as in, the contents he held inside his stomach probably digested into smithereens.
She giggles at him and he fights back the tears, threatening to be released. Oh, how did this happen to him. He did nothing wrong but the ghoul in front of him, proves him otherwise.
He tries to calm down and takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. He vaguely thinks back when his parents were thrown inside his cage. Shock and fear consumed them as they realized what they did to him. At that time, he was starving and couldn't control himself. Activating his kakugan, he bares his teeth at them, saliva drooling as his hunger empowers him. He recalls how frightened they were as they scream for their lives. He remembers plucking their heads, muttering how it resembles a freshly picked pineapple and proceeds to the rest of their body. He remembers feeding himself on their savory corpses as guts and intestines spreads throughout the room with their blood staining the floors. He saves their heads for last, remembering every detail of their face when he feeds himself on them.
The shaken boy opens his eyes and something inside broke and is replaced by something unfamiliar to him. A maniacal smile replaces his previous pained expression. This isn't him–he knows. The taste of blood and their meat comes back to him. He can almost point out the knowing smile on the child's face and then he knows. Oh, how much he knows. He answers with a voice he does not recognize as his own.
"They were the best I have ever eaten in my whole life!"