AKA: Roadkill, Of Monsters and Men, and half of Spilt Milk

I have reason to believe we are overindulging.

“Can we not do this right now?”

I have reason to believe we may be over-encumbered.

“You have reason to believe… Just let me eat or we’ll both starve.”

There is eating and then there is what you are doing.

“Are we or are we not the Devourer?”

A tentacle tapped his shoulder.

“Oh for the love of-” He spun around to find a very angry, very big, and very pointy bird-like monstrosity standing in the mouth of the cave. Hunched forward, tattered feathered wings arched up over its back, one massive yellow eye staring at him from atop a sideways beak. A Vigilant. A spicier variant of his current prey.

“That’s not gonna go down easy…” He muttered.

It will not go down at all! I forbid you from-

The Vigilant let out an thought-piercing shriek.

Covering his ears, he let loose a flurry of tentacles, shoving it out the opening.

I told you so, Sylus.

“Now’s not the time!” He cried out as he flung himself out of the cavern.

The Vigilant was hot on his heels as he dove in and out of the mortal realm. Weaving between the Void and reality, he barely managed to evade gnashing beaks and grasping talons.

An entire nest, Sylus! We are in no condition-

“Now is NOT the time, Qaitax!”

The cover of night wasn’t enough. They thrived in darkness. It gave them permission to prowl mortal worlds if only in short bursts. He, on the other hand, was bound to this reality. He could never escape it entirely yet still he slipped effortlessly between the veil.

Rotund was a good word to describe Sylus Synclaire. A large man in every definition of the word dressed as if he had somewhere far more high class to be than a den of spawns. Aided by tentacles protruding from his back and the lack of mortal anatomy hindering his movements, he was far more agile than one would expect him to be. A mortal piloting an eldritch flesh prison with all the finesse of a bulldozer. A difficult target to catch. All while supposedly covertly watching the Void’s movement, but instead actively ruffling feathers and arousing untold amounts of suspicion from powers greater than himself. An unwise tactic, some might say. Pragmatic, he’d reply.

The Vigilant snapped its jaws shut just shy of a tentacle.

At this rate we will not even have v’rilk left for general upkeep!

“I thought you wanted me to stop eating?!”

You ate more than enough! We are too slow! We are burning away our own supply!

Caught up in the escape, he failed to take in any more of his surroundings than what was directly snapping at him him. There was no left or right, there was only the flock above and behind. Unfortunately, as they say, you should always look both ways before crossing a road.

CAREFUL SYLUS!

“I’m trying! Sondreh help me I’m-“

A blunt force slammed into his side. Eyes bulging from their sockets, his breath was knocked completely from his artificial lungs.

“Q-Qai-tax?”

SYLUS!

Slumping down to the ground he realized what had hit him. A truck. An old blue pick-up. A Yamamura-70. Sturdy vehicle. Old, but in good shape. He’d done a number on it, but it had definitely done a number on him in return.

“Fuck me.” He gasped before the world faded to black.

“Very well then.” Qaitax groaned as he shoved himself up off the ground. “I will handle this.”

They had precious little time to save themselves. As the headlights of the truck flickered, the flock grew closer and closer.

Qaitax threw his massive arm down on the hood, hauling himself up. He intended to stand, but could do nothing more than lean over the truck.

“He’s just staring at us.” Qaitax mumbled. Regardless of his inability to feel pain, their strength was fading. Injuries incurred from the collision were adding undue stress to their already strained reserves. “He’s just… S-tar-ing…”

With that, the last of their energy was gone. As the body shut down, they knew they were at the mercy of the truck’s driver.

You know, if you had not gorged yourself like a-

Shut the absolute FUCK up! Sylus bit back from their unconscious realm.

As you wish.

---

Where the hell are we?

In the back of the truck that hit us.

Fear spiked through his tendrils. Hit us?! What the hell happened?!

In our escape of the nest, we were struck crossing a road. We are now inside the vehicle that struck us.

W-what? Why? How?

Our v’rilk was so low and our injuries so great that there was little I could do in the moment.

Sylus sighed. Wonder what they want with us…

I cannot say. I believe I have the strength to-

No. I’ll do it. I got us into this mess.

Sylus sat up stiffly, the roof of the truck barely above his head.

Sylus…

I’ve got this.

He leaned forward and opened the door. Sliding out, he was quick to find his feet.

“See?” He said aloud. “We’re fine. I just need to… To… Catch… My breath…”

Your need to breathe is a hinderance. Allow me control and I will-

“I-I’m-” He turned to find someone standing just outside the building the truck was parked in front of.

That is our assailant! Sylus, take him now and we may have the v’rilk to recover.

I’m not doing that. I just want to leave.

He turned to the man and took a single step forward before the body shut down on them once more.

Curse you, Sylus.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

---

Ugh… Th-this isn’t the cave…

Sylus groggily sat up in an unfamiliar place. A bed he barely fit on surrounded by two blank walls and two doors. One door was beside the head of his bed, the other directly across the room.

Have we been here before?

Not that I am aware of.

Sylus groaned as he gripped the side of his head.

We do not have the resources to fully mend ourselves at the moment.

“Shame.” He muttered. “What happened though?”

There was an accident. We must leave.

An accident?

Before Qaitax could answer, they heard footsteps coming from the door beside the bed. Someone was there. Grumbling to himself, he managed to find his feet. Lugging himself toward the door, he heard running water and silent cursing. Cocking a brow, he opened it.

His heart leapt into his throat. He tried swallowing it back down, but there it remained lodged as his gaze met the most beautiful face he’d ever seen. Dark in complexion and soft in features. Strength curbed by gentleness filled his curious gaze. It took an unreasonable amount of effort for Sylus to keep his sudden feelings to himself.

What is going on with you, Sylus? These feelings are… unusual.

N-nothing. I’m fine. It’s fine. Everything is-

“Hi?” The man asked as if testing the waters with the behemoth looming in the doorway before him.

Him! Kill him, Sylus!

“Hello.” Sylus replied, fighting back Qaitax’s rising rage.

“H-how are you?” The stranger stammered.

“Feels like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

The man laughed nervously. “Well, you kind of were.”

“Was I now?” Sylus closed his eyes and immediately scanned his memories. It wasn’t there. Getting hit by a truck was nowhere to be found. “I can’t remember.”

Is that why I feel like shit?

Yes. He hit us with his vehicle. Now enough of this. Devour him!

A familiar sinking feeling crossed Sylus’ mind.

“D-do you know who you are?”

DO NOT GIVE HIM OUR NAMES!

Calm down.

The man looked at them expectantly.

Sylus opened his eyes. “Oh, of course I do.”

Sylus, we need to get out of here. Eat him or do not, but we cannot stay. We have no idea who this is or what they want and we are in no place to defend ourselves.

Qaitax’s agitation rose to the surface as Sylus spoke. “Where am I?”

“Y-you’re safe. In a small coastal town, Ortzuna, in the upstairs apartment of a family diner.”

“Safe?” Sylus’ gaze locked onto the stranger’s. He was trying desperately to see past the devastatingly handsome facade. There had to be something under there. Some ill intent. Mortals were never kind to him even before he became the monstrosity he was now. There was no way this guy was being kind out of the goodness of his heart. He wanted something. Just like they all did. Qaitax’s advice to devour him started feeling like the best course of action. He almost relished the idea of being the last person to look into those soft eyes. “But are you?”

“I-I think so.” He nodded as he reached for a towel in the sink.

That wasn’t the response he was expecting. Caught off guard, he suddenly became aware of how dry and crunchy his remaining v’rilk had become. He cringed.

“Water?”

“Y-yes,” the man replied, “it’s a sink. Water comes out of it.”

Sylus shook his head. “I know that.” He ground the heel of his palm into his right eye. He was hungry, confused, and, unfortunately, mildly aroused. Something about the subtle defiance from this stranger was delicious to behold.

Eat him!

“I shouldn’t be here.”

The stranger reached up into the cabinet above the sink. He retrieved a rinsing cup and filled it with water.

“Here.” He offered it to Sylus.

Sylus’ mind raced. What the hell is going on? What game is he playing at?!

Eat him or leave! Do not indulge this facade of kindness. You know what it leads to.

Before he could reject the kind gesture, he reached out and took it. “Thank you.” He croaked.

SYLUS!

I-I don’t know what’s going on…

A spell! A curse! He could be an archon in disguise!

An archon? Here? Now? That feels very unlikely.

But also convenient. If we were not so crippled I could check. Wait… Sylus don’t!

Sylus tossed the cup of water back. For as little as it was, the mild chill was refreshing to his desiccating innards.

“Had a feeling that wouldn’t be enough.” The stranger rubbed the back of his neck before turning the faucet on. “Help yourself. I have to get dressed.” He exited the bathroom through a door directly across from their own.

Sylus we cannot trust-

Qaitax, we’re rougher than sand right now. Let me just take a sip.

As he made his way to the sink and cupped his hand beneath the stream of water, a loud, bellowing call rang out.

“JERON AUGUSTINE MILES! WHERE THE HELL IS MY MILK?!”

Sylus froze out of instinct. Something in him both recoiled and suddenly understood the stranger’s kindness.

He has no ulterior motive.

How can you possibly know that?!

I just know.

“JERON!” The same angry man’s voice bellowed.

“I, uh, sorry about that.” The stranger’s voice came from the other room.

Sylus stiffly turned his head just in time to watch him dart from the room.

Once he was gone, Sylus could hear the distinct sound of bickering from downstairs. Water still trickled through his fingers. Shaking his head, he took a few quick handfuls before wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

“We have to clean up.”

What?

“The bed. We made a mess. We have to clean it.”

Sylus?!

Sylus hurried back into the room he woke up in. Holding out his hand, he summoned a ball of inky liquid.

We do NOT have the strength for such a frivolous act!

He released the ball of ink over the bloodied bed. It washed over the surface before slicking off like oil and puddling at Sylus’ feet, reabsorbing into his body.

He did his best to ignore Qaitax’s protests as he made his way back into the bathroom. This time his focus was on the mirror.

What a mess…

We have more important things to worry about than your appearance!

I need to clean up.

Sylus!

So he did. Soap and water for his hands and face. A quick slick of his hand corrected his wild hair and he ran his fingers through his beard. Still, it wasn’t right.

Please, this is ridiculous, Sylus. Why are you bothering?

Closing his eyes, he forced an inordinate amount of v’rilk into his face to flesh it out and hide the bruising.

What if we needed that tentacle?! You can’t just steal v’rilk from wherever you want!

We have at least a hundred. I’ll grow it back later.

What has come over you, Sylus?

More yelling came from below.

I don’t know.

Well fix it! I do not like whatever these feelings are.

“I’m not sure I do, either.” He sighed.

He groaned in pain as his stomach growled. The hunger was coming back in full force.

You are actively weakening us. Leave. Now.

“We just need to eat and you heard the man, ” he gritted out between clenched teeth, “we’re above a diner. Diners serve food.”

Mortal food! Useless to us! Unless you eat the mortals themselves, of course.

“Which I won’t be doing.” He snarled as he did everything he could to still the agony welling within.

Sylus…

“We need to eat Qaitax.” He snapped.

Not like this, we do not!

“Good food is good for the soul, yeah?” He forced a halfhearted smile.

Sylus…

“We’re going in, Qaitax.”

Oh for the love of Father…