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In the middle of someone's living room, drenched in shadow, Duke sat on the hardwood floor, adrenaline thrumming through him, invisible lightning arcing between his fingers. Chest heaving with gasps, he leaned over a limp and mangled body. Their empty eyes gazed at the ceiling, jaw eternally dangled in mortification. A gaping hole hollowed out their torso, revealing their torn up insides and red stained bones. The edges of the wound were shredded, flesh pulled apart with great haste. Claw marks covered their arms, punctures in their throat.
Instead of panicking and calling for help like he normally would, Duke reached into their gut and pulled out a string of intestines, rather long and thick nails digging into the meat. A deep rumble shook his stomach as a deep sweet scent curled up his nose, reeking like freshly roasted sugar. He took a brief inhale, relishing in the smell for a flicker before moving in.
His teeth pierced into the flesh easily, molars as pointed as his insciors and canines. A saccrine explosion coated his mouth and Duke shook, smiling around his mouthful. Blood poured down his chin, Duke tried to slurp some of it back past his lips. Duke chewed on his food, quickly turning it into ribbons and swallowing.
Another growl churned his insides and Duke snapped another bite. Fast as lightning, Duke ate most of the meat, its delicious taste sating some of his hunger. Soon, there was just a handful left, still warm in his palm. Duke licked his lips, distant pangs still in his stomach.
A floorboard creaked behind him, his keen ears perked up. He whipped around, eyes glinting fuchsia in the low light as he effortlessly looked through the darkness. Standing a few feet back was the man he met a month ago, the one who showed him that Being, that delectable and beautiful light. He still vividly remembers It emptying him, plucking the already distant idea of satisfaction out of his soul and placing it far, far away, so beyond his reach.
Duke blinked as he absentmindedly licked his fingers, lapping up the maroon nectar.
"Wiley," he greeted, tone hollow and emotionless.
Wiley chuckled to himself, heavy and cruel. "Been a minute." It motioned to the body. "I see you're havin' fun."
The rush of a recent kill and the hunger inside him started to die down. He took a deep breath, the pink in his irises fading. Reality crashed into him, returning him to his senses. His blood turned into frost soaked lead.
"Oh my god!" Duke screamed, slapping his hands over his mouth as he stared at the corpse. Tears welled in his eyes, pulse racing and nerves firing faster than ever, this time with much less pleasure.
"Oh my god…" he breathed out, pulling his palms away from his face. His heart dropped when he saw the dried smears under his nails and over his fingers. The sweet taste on his tongue lingered with a slight coppery edge.
He felt like he got hit by a truck, stunned and horrified.
Wiley crouched down beside him, grinning sharply. "You did good."
Painfully slow, head swimming with agony, Duke turned to Wiley, glaring.
"Y-you made me do this…" He doesn't know how but he knows it has to be true. It was the thing that showed him that light, that light that left him so unbelievably hungry.
"Nature made ya do this," it corrected.
His jaw went slack, eyes wide as a silent sob wracked his body. His mind dwelled on the metal taste again, unwilling to pay attention to it but also incapable of letting him push it out of mind. He stared at the thing that once was a person, imagining how they have loved ones to mourn them, how a funeral is soon to occur and the family will have to close the casket, refusing them one last look.
A gag made him quake, urging up his food but something kept the contents inside, refusing to let it leave him. Sniffles filled the air, lungs wheezing as the room spun, shoulders clenching tight together.
A soft touch bloomed on Duke's shoulder, he barely registered it. Then, cutting through the whirlwind was the most beautiful voice he's ever heard.
"Something wrong?" It was impossible to not focus to it.
Dazed, he looked to his right to see a woman beaming at him, eyes glittering azure. Thick blue gunk that shone coated her chin. Dimly, he wondered if his chin looked the same, albeit darker. Streaks of navy ran through her light brown, shoulder length hair. They didn't run in straight lines but rather choppy, a bit like cracks.
Her tone was so innocent, seemingly not noticing the sins covering Duke's face and hands.
"Don't you wanna finish your food?" She sounded somewhat worried, a harsh juxtaposition to her smiling face.
Duke furrowed his brow as Wiley slid on its knees, moving close to him on his other side. Bewildered, he watched it place a hand on his head, ruffling his plush brunette hair. It gripped the strands, tugging gently.
"You know it was tasty," it whispered into his ear, strangely soft but a sinister hiss just under its words. "And if you don't finish it, we will."
It shot a glance to the woman who was already over the body, dipping a finger in the blood and lapping it up over and over. Her eye contact with Duke never broke. Wiley reached over and started peeling off a patch of skin, its intent hauntingly obvious.
Every rational part of Duke screamed at him to run, to tell these two to fuck off and turn himself in to the cops. But something inside him, churning within an abyss that echoed coldly in his heart surged to the surface.
How dare they steal his catch. He was the one to track them down, to lurk in the shadows of their home, silently stalking until they were at their most vulnerable. His claws tore open their chest, his teeth pierced their throat. It was his food and they were taking it.
Despite himself, a growl reverberated out of Duke's throat, his upper lip curling slightly. The others froze in their tracks, not frightened but instead intrigued. A second after it happened, he cut himself off, his eyes going wide, horrified at the realization that he had genuinely snarled at someone.
Wiley seemed pleased, placing a hand on his thigh and leaning closer, so close that its nose pointed into his cheek.
"What is it, then?" it asked coyly. Its tone wasn't lowered, leaving it booming in his ear. "Is it mine or yours?"
Duke sat there, dumbfounded. The answer was obvious: neither. They were a person, not a slab of meat to drool over.
Once more, that syrupy smell hit his nose and cravings made his stomach turn on itself. He groaned, unseen blades tearing into his gut. Suddenly, he felt like he hadn't touched food in 20 years, stranded on a desert island for decades. Something, anything needed to be eaten, desire burning at his flesh.
Wiley chuckled and clicked its tongue in the woman's direction, shifting out the way and moving to hold his neck. Wordlessly, she moved back as Duke stared intently at the corpse. It was still fresh.
Saliva pooled in his cheeks, eager to assist Duke in his future consumption. His tongue ran over his lips, some spit falling out of his mouth. When it hit the ground, it made a slight sizzle against the wood.
"That's right," Wiley breathed out, shoving Duke's head forward. He was uncaring about the rough force, about ready to explode from the pained gurgles inside him. His fingers spread out on the floor, nails scratching against the boards. "Eat up."
Duke twitched, jaws parting before he remembered what he was doing. This was wrong, wrong on every moral level he has. It doesn't matter if he starves to death, it's what he deserves for doing this.
As Duke went rigid, freezing in place, Wiley sneered. Humming, unfazed, the woman reached up the ribcage and pulled something free with a few snaps. The sweetest thing Duke had ever smelled stung his airways, making him wince and look in confusion.
His face softened as he saw it. It almost shone, radiating pink. Blue swirls surrounded it, sticking to its sides. He couldn't help but wonder what it'd taste like. Perhaps bubble gum, it certainly appeared chewy enough. Maybe the blue will taste different, adding a special tang to it.
Weakly, he grabbed what she was offering. It was large but also so small, so soft in his hands. Tearing it apart would be the easiest thing in the world, barely needing a hint of effort. Imagine when he starts devouring it.
His teeth slid into the meat with a squelch. In an instant, the blacks of his eyes swallowed the gray whole, his reflective corneas shining cerise. It was better than he ever could have imagined. Purest sugar swallowed his taste buds, he's sure his teeth are rotting out but he didn't care. He needed more, more than he needed air. Rationality meant nothing as he ate and ate and ate, almost inhaling the heart.
A few times, large chunks got caught in his throat but he ignored it every time, letting it sort itself out. Wiley ran a hand through his hair repeatedly as Duke finished, trying to clean his face with his tongue.
"Good boy," it crooned.
A small sense of pride wormed into Duke, briefly curling around and warming his heart. He grinned, bearing his mouthful of stained bone. His gaze flitted up and down Wiley, studying it in a new light. This thing was certainly interested in him, wasn't it? He couldn't say he didn't reciprocate, it too reeked mellisonant, much more than his meal did. Well, there's no reason to not indulge.
Salivating, Duke grabbed its jacket and pulled it to him. The hunger squealed in joy as he tasted its mouth. It pushed into his chest, grabbing his back and gently clawing into his scalp. Heat flooded Duke, swelling particularly around his upper thighs and flooding his cheeks.
"Hey," the woman quietly snapped, moving behind Duke. "I thought we were going to share."
She took hold of his neck and pried him off of Wiley. His cheeks gained a little warmth, vision going red for a beat before she twisted his head to face her and embraced him. Her flesh was much less candied than Wiley's. In fact, in a few spots, she was a little piquant, an acquired taste that Duke was eager to learn. The flavor of the gunk was burning slightly, sensationally similar to the light bore witness to.
Duke suddenly went stiff, the pink glow in his eyes turning sharp. The woman— Paula, Duke somehow knew— pulled back, smiling. He stared at her in wonder as, subconsciously, his expression contorted to match hers, strange hums stirring in his ears.
Pain wracked through his body, forcing his face to fall. Gags once more squeezed his stomach, this time actually managing to get something out. Thin streams of her blue shit spewed out of his throat, splattering on his knee and the ground.
Duke shook his head, his starved stupor vanishing. Terror once more struck Duke, making him scramble backwards.
Wiley scoffed at Paula who responded with a simple smirk.
"You really got a one track mind," it commented, standing up proper.
She put a hand on her chest. "Thank you," Paula said with all the earnestness she had to her heart.
Collecting himself, Duke started trying to stand but Wiley and Paula strolled up to him, grasping each arm respectively. He frantically gaped between the two.
"Wh-what're you doin'?"
"Takin' you home," Wiley instantly answered.
As time passed, Duke found that he could stare effortlessly through shadow which is why he was confused when ink spread over Wiley's hand. Hauntingly fast, it raced up Wiley's side and shoulders, staining onto his wrist. It was cold as ice, already turning him numb.
Before he could understand what was happening, his vision went blank, darkness enveloping him. Biting frost turned dull, no longer stinging. It didn't even feel like empty wind, it was more like nothing. No feeling was in his digits; he moved them around but they didn't even feel attached to him. His limbs lost weight, abruptly made out of air. Each breath was still, nothing moving into his lungs and nothing leaving.
He gawked at the blank expanse before him, trying to find or feel a thing. There was just, simply nothing. No light, no shadow, no air, no cold, no heat, no sensations. Like a meteor in space, he drifted for eons, waiting to ram into anything at all.
After an eternity, blinding hot pink light formed. Duke stared at Him, enraptured. He was more beautiful this time. Now he understood His deafening, eternal growling, related all too well to His constant gnashing. Before, It was too large and beyond his knowing but now, he felt the same as It.
The echoes of fulfillment that he had obtained turned into ash, leaving his guts gurgling.
"Yum, yum," It boomed before he snapped back into reality, finding himself on a carpet.
Faint pre-dawn light that filtered through his windows stabbed through his corneas, making him wince with a hiss. His body was heavy, soul trapped in bindings of lead. His hair flopped back and forth as he shook, regaining his senses.
His own room had never looked so foreign to him. These walls were someone else's, those shelves couldn't be his, this bed probably wasn't even broken in. He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair.
When he felt strangely sharp nails hit his scalp, he froze. Duke brought his fingers in front of him, seeing that— while now cleaned— he still had claws. Trembling, Duke rushed to the bathroom, needing to see his reflection.
If he thought his room was wrong, his appearance took the cake. The barely more honed molars weren't a temporary illusion; when he opened his mouth, he looked vaguely like a yawning cat. Any time he turned at the right angle, his eyes glinted like Rose's did late at night. On his temples, a little hard to spot, hot pink hair formed at the roots, almost like he was going gray.
Resolving himself, Duke reached into the cabinet and pulled out a nail clipper. He went to work clipping off his claws, easily snapping and falling into the trashcan.
"Now that's just rude," a familiar voice perked up. Duke whipped around, pulse blaring in his ears.
Wiley leaned in the doorway, pouting in a way that Duke knew was mocking him. Paula stood with it, her arms behind her back.
"After all the work He put into helpin' you." It shook its head, tsking with each swing.
His knuckles went white as he balled them into fists, trying to focus on his breathing. He wanted to say something, wanted to snap with the perfect comment, one that would make them feel small for a change but he couldn't. They were invulnerable enigmas that somehow knew him intimately.
"There's no use in fighting it," Paula stated simply, a hint of a giggle in the back of her throat. "It's nicer if you give in."
He steeled himself, gathering his dwindling courage.
"Get the hell outta my house."
Wiley barked a laugh, a curt and off-putting sound. He thinks he may have flinched.
"Oh, c'mon, we all know your bark's worse than your bite… at least, so far."
The giggle inside Paula grew to shake her shoulders. "Last time you fought it off, you woke up eating someone. I wonder what'll happen this time." She sounded genuinely curious.
Silent, Wiley gripped Paula's fingers. With fluid and practiced grace, it hoisted her arm over her head and spun her. Her flowing skirt tossed into the air until she dropped her back into its chest, her arm bent over her own chest. Promptly, it dipped her low and they kissed. Their lips held each other for a while, moving together with a few moans.
Against his will, Duke recalled savoring them, relishing in their unique tastes. His stomach grumbled, taste buds painfully unstimulated. Half of Duke, a half he was actively fighting against, desperately needed to jump in and embrace them again, maybe take a nibble or two while he's at it.
Turning a little pale, the two split apart, Paula's backside facing him. Wiley winked at Duke over her shoulder.
"See ya later, Douglas." In a flash of umbra, they were gone. The emptiness inside Duke had never felt larger.