Title: The Thirst
Characters: Ryou
Chapters: 1-1||Words: 500
Genre: Drama||Rated: PG
Challenges: Diversity Writing: YGO GX: alternate/divergent timelines: A55, between 300-500 words; GX Month 2021, #27, The Shallow Grave
Notes: While this is technically post canon I'm calling it alternate timeline because it implies things we can hopefully be sure didn't happen. And probably won't happen if they ever revisit GX again.
Summary: Ryou is recovering. That's good. Ryou is having cravings. What he's craving – not so good.
Something wasn't right. Ryou didn't know what it was, but ever since he'd somehow revived from the dead - and he still didn't know how that happened - something hadn't been right. He'd tried very hard. He couldn't have been prouder of how Shou developed as a duelist and he looked forward to finding a new deck himself.
At least he was, when he could think about it. As time passed, his heart pains eased and he could breathe more easily. That was the good part, in his opinion. But what he wasn't so fond of was that his appetite seemed to be slowly vanishing. The doctors did every test they could think of for this, but nothing seemed to turn up at all. At least nothing they were going to tell him about.
There is something. They're not telling me but it's something.
Ryou wanted to figure out what it was. His appetite slacked off and when he did think about having something, it was always something liquid. Hot would be preferable. He tried tea, and while some of it was pleasant enough, it still wasn't what he wanted. Sometimes his thoughts turned towards beef, the rarer the better.
There were moments - that he tried very hard to ignore - when he found himself staring at throats. The thoughts he thought then, of tearing and biting and feeling that blood pour down his throat - he refused to think them. He wasn't like that. He couldn't be.
But he could not forget Camula. Nor did he forget that he'd seen a vampire in Dark World, one that regarded him with a hint of amusement, as if expecting something. The vampire hadn't spoken to him, but merely vanished into the shadows. He paid little attention to it in the wake of everything else that happened. But now it all came back to him, and he had to wonder, even if he didn't truly want to.
Camula had bitten him, once. She'd fed him her own blood and murmured something that he didn't clearly remember. He only vaguely recalled what had happened during the time he'd been her doll. Was it possible? Could she have - and it only took proper effect now that he'd actually died?
It made more sense than he wanted it to make. He didn't want to ask the doctors. He'd not be surprised if at least one of them wanted to make an attempt to dispatch him if he made any gestures towards admitting that he might be becoming. One of them did keep looking at him in a way that he wasn't fond of.
What do I do? With each passing day, his condition changed in ways that he couldn't deny. His eyes were more sensitive to light. The hunger for hot liquid, preferably drawn from the living throats of others, grew stronger. He truly had no idea of what he could do about it. He had no idea of who could help him.
If anyone could.
The End
Notes: There is someone who can help him. But will they? Depends on if Ryou asks or not.