Aka “What You Eat”

Sylus woke up with a start. Sitting rigidly upright on the bed, his nostrils flared, eyes widened, and his ears perked up at the sound of something scraping outside. He knew the sound well: Bone on stone. More specifically hollow bone on stone.

“Food.” He growled. His stomach lurched and for once he agreed with its sentiment.

Finally, something you will eat.

Throwing the covers off, he slipped through the window as a ball of ink, slamming into the ground on his feet just in time to see a Watcher drag its gangly back talons into the darkness beyond the pavement.

With the deftness of a thousand hunts, tentacles lashed out, hauling his fellow spawn of the Void into the light. It screeched and cawed and struggled with all its might. But it was no use. Once in their grasp, nothing escaped the Devourer’s hunger. There was nowhere left for it to go but down. And down it went.

In one swift motion, the Watcher as gone, Sylus’ tentacles were free, and he finally had a full stomach. With his meal’s protests muffled by his dense v’rilk, Sylus rubbed his belly, a smile on his lips. He truly lived for the hunt. The consuming. It reinforced the monster he’d become. Strengthened the alien flesh he now possessed as if it were his own. It helped drive a wedge between himself and his longing to be mortal again. A wedge he relished in the worst ways.

He stood beside the beat up blue truck, the screams not of is own making still coming from within him. It really was a nice vehicle. He licked his lips and wondered if he could get it working again. Maybe with some help. He already knew who he could call.

No matter how hard he tried to focus on something more useful or practical or anything but his squirming gut, there was not ignoring it. It felt incredible both physically and mentally. Control, absolute domination, destruction. The re-purposing of something’s entire existence to serve him and him alone. He quietly contemplated the speed at which he’d reduce his prey to v’rilk.

Sooner would be better. We are in dire need.

“Mmm… But it feels so-“

The back door to the diner creaked open. Sylus quickly silenced his prey, forcing a tuft of feathers back out from his lips. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve before turning to find someone vaguely familiar standing behind him.

His name is Jeron. You gave him your name so I see fit to remind you of his. You were planning on eating him.

Ah, right. Well, thanks for the reminder, but I‘m already full.

“I can fix that.” He did his best to stifle a belch.

“Fix? What?”

Sylus pointed over his shoulder to the truck.

“O-oh.” Jeron laughed. “It’s totalled.”

Something unfamiliar slithered down Sylus’ internal dorsal tendril. A shudder?

“No it isn’t. I can fix it.” Sylus both desperately wanted to lie back down, but at the same time, he also desperately wanted to keep talking to Jeron.

“You a mechanic?”

Sylus shrugged. “I can put stuff back together and beat out a few dents, but, more importantly, I know a guy.”

“Know a guy?” Jeron scoffed.

“Yeah. I do. Specifically a parts guy.”

Jeron gave a nervous laugh. Sylus clutched his stomach as he felt the bottom of his gut drop out. He did a quick check of his systems. Everything was fine, all things considered. His physical stomach was busy doing what it did best. So what was it? What happened?

His laugh… It’s… Soft… Gentle even...

That’s what happened. He was charmed. Smitten, even. A 37-year-old man crushing on another man. This was ridiculous. He was much too old, much too tired, and much too hungry for butterflies to be dwelling in his stomach.

Oh no…

I told you to leave I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE!

I just wanted to fuck around!

And now you are finding out! Father help us, Sylus…

“So, uh, what was that thing?” Jeron continued.

“Dinner.” Sylus patted his belly. He almost starting digging his fingers in, but he dropped his hand to his side instead. “But I suppose you want an animal type, don’t you? Some way to classify it?”

I need to lay down.

That’s usually what we do after we eat.

Think someone like him would ever lay with someone like me? Ignore that. I know the answer and I don’t need a lecture. That was a private thought for the Dark Space.

I… will try to dismiss it.

“I, uh, yeah. Sure.” Jeron replied.

Sylus cleared his throat and organized his chaotic thoughts. “It was a Watcher. A creature of the Void. Trapped in shadows until such a time as it can open a portal from the other side. In the event that this occurs, our world will be plunged into darkness.”

“H-how did it get here?”

“They’re sent through pinpricks too small for creatures like me, but it’s for creatures like me they toil away their existences.” He looked out over the ledge, silently hoping to find more awaiting the sweet embrace of his hungering maw. “They can overwhelm easily.”

“I-is that what was happening last night? Were you…” Jeron stammered in the most innocent way.

Sylus couldn’t stop the tiny smirk that shot across his lips. He was quick to stow it before turning back to his host.

“Running from them? I poked too deeply into a den.” You do that a lot. “Ate one too many.” Yet another understatement. “They didn’t take kindly to a serpent raiding their nest, so they attacked. I ran. Usually I can outrun them, but alas,” he motioned to the truck, “happenstance, it seems, brought me here.”

“So you,” Jeron paused, “ruffled some feathers?”

It took every fiber of Sylus’ being to stifle the laugh welling within him. He forced himself to maintain his composure, but he wasn’t sure he was selling his disinterest all that well. His “heart” was doing something it had never done before.

Get whatever this is under control, Sylus. It is becoming ridiculous.

“In my line of work, it behooves me to cut off the head as soon as it’s identified. Without a Vigilant, nasty beasts wrapped in chains, they’re aimless, but eventually a new one will show up.” He shook his head at the thought of being chased by the chained beasts. He’d never eaten one before, but he knew fairly well he never wanted to. “Regardless of their social structures, they’re an ill omen for the fate of this world. Everything they see is seen by another.”

“The Vigilant?”

A fleeting pang of approval shot from Qaitax’s side of the Dark Space.

What?

Nothing.

That wasn’t nothing.

I can assure you, it was nothing.

“No,” Sylus continued, “their Lord who controls them from behind the veil.” Don’t think I’ll let that go.

I wish you would.

“Their… Lord?” Jeron asked, a hint of fear in his voice.

Sylus nodded. “There are others like me. Other Lords. Stronger and more powerful than I.”

“I-I don’t,” Jeron pinched his nose. “I really don’t understand.”

And there it goes.

What?

Never you mind.

“You don’t have to.” Sylus continued seamlessly as he looked over the cliff again, desperately hoping for something to distract him from the growing awkwardness in the air. “I don’t belong here. And as long as I am here, more of them will show up, terrorizing your town.” He turned back to Jeron. “I’ll stay until I get your truck fixed up, but after that,” he motioned to the darkness. “That’s where I belong.”

“You’re still injured!” Jeron burst out.

“Not for long.” Sylus patted his belly. “This’ll do nicely to get me up and running again.”

With that, he vanished in an inky splash. Unseen by mortal eyes, he made his way back through the bedroom window. Retaking his humanoid form, he collapsed face first onto the mattress and groaned into the pillow.

Sylus…

“Look,” Sylus snapped, “if you’re not going to explain whatever that was back there, we have nothing to say about the current situation.”

Silence.

“That’s what I thought.” He rolled onto his back.

I am pleased that you ate.

“Thanks.” Sylus ran a hand over his stomach. To the naked eye it was impossible to tell he’d eaten, but that was for the best. He enjoyed keeping his meals to himself. All that mattered was that he could feel it. It was the strongest, most intense feeling he’d ever had until Jeron made him smile.