2 Just One Bite

"Well, fuck me," Merrill groaned under his breath as he wiped his mouth and gathered his frayed bearings.

The sparse landscape was the same upon second glance as it seemed at first. There were no trees in sight, nor mountains in the distance, just a rugged expanse of grass – rock, moss and the rare grouping of wildflowers breaking up the monotony. No signs of human habitation either.

He cast his gaze upward only to find himself – somehow – more confused than he was before. Above him were countless glowing stars literally connected into constellations by stark golden lines. The entire sky slowly spun across the heavens as if it were merely a painting on a softly spinning globe. It was a wonderful yet utterly bizarre view that entranced the young man. Once in a while, in the corner of his eye, a constellation would somehow shift into a more accurate version of what the dots and line suggested. A hunter astride. A bear and her cub. Only to dissolve back into mere lights when looked straight on.

Yet it was a vista that he eventually turned away from due to a steadily growing headache. For as wondrous as it was, it was also fey and alien. No matter how hard he stared, the sky refused to come together into something he could grasp. His brain kept arguing that it wasn't right, despite what his eyes were taking in – the dissonance driving a spike into his head.

Leaving it for a lost cause, Merrill made to steady himself against the tree behind him only to sprawl onto the ground with a thump. He lay there in silence, stunned both by the fall and how little his life made sense at the moment. He could have sworn that the ancient looking tree was there not a second ago, but apparently he was either going mad or the world he found himself in was mad enough that it made no difference.

No – he was too drunk for this, he decided. Maybe if he closed his eyes and slipped off to sleep, everything would make sense again come morning. So he curled into himself, arms made into a poor mans pillow beneath his head, and let his dreams hungrily claim him.

–––

Nothing changed come morning besides stiff limbs and the hangover he had been dreading the night before.

Really, it bore repeating, "I am so fucked."

Merrill fidgeted with his hair, nervously wrapping a dark brown lock around a finger as he tried to think things through. However, he had no idea what to do. Some ideas reared their head, but the baffling reality of what occurred the night before kept him paralyzed and stuck in place.

At least until his stomach began growling.

Right, he decided – food. Focus on that and leave the horrifyingly existential questions for later.

He took out the pomegranate, thankful for it's presence even if he was aware of how suspicious it was. The innocuous little fruit was definitely connected to the shenanigans from the night before, even if he wasn't sure of the how or why. Regardless, he was hungry and a lot can be forgiven in the face of a pleading stomach.

Placing it on the ground, Merrill shuffled through his pockets, eventually scrounging up the small swiss army knife that he usually kept somewhere on his person. With a fairly practiced hand, he soon had a quarter of the thick outer peel removed, exposing the bounty of juicy red seeds waiting inside.

Amazing.

He had never seen a pomegranate so perfect. The seeds were all round, red and practically begging him to eat. Merrill could already imagine the sweet juice contained within. He licked his dry lips and carefully pried out a single seed, not wanting to work too hastily and drop any on the ground.

Rolling it around his palm, he smiled, "bon appétit,"and popped the little seed into his mouth.

An explosion of flavor lit up his senses. It was so decadently rich. So delicately sweet. How could anyone possibly stop at just one?

Another seed was pried loose and eaten.

It was somehow even better than the first.

Another.

And another.

Merrill could feel his hangover clear away in real time - his mind dragged out of it's morass.

What a fruit!

He knew he needed to save his only source of food, but one more wouldn't hurt.

Okay two more.

Three?

He could feel the stars shining brighter in the sky, cheering him on in their own way.

The constellations waving and laughing at his baptism of utter delight.

Each bite was both the question and the answer.

Peeling back the curtain and hinting at the mysteries behind.

For the first time in his life, Merrill Rhodes could see, truly see!

With a bellowing laugh, he went to pluck another seed –

He starred uncomprehendingly at his hands, fingers stained not with sticky juice, but deep crimson blood. The sight was unmistakable.

A sniff – iron and something nauseatingly sweet.

His mind stalled and sputtered, dancing and skipping along a thought that it dared not fully engage.

Something screamed not to look, to be at peace with ignorance, but he was too far gone to heed the call.

He turned his head and looked.

Eyes.

Hundreds of small red eyes sat snug in the devilish fruit in his hand.

They squirmed and swiveled and pulsed, looking every which way.

Looking at him.

His breath quickened into short gasps. His blood pumped at a frantic pace. Lightning raced down his spine.

The eyes. He saw them and was seen in turn.

The fruit dropped from his hand.

For the second time he made to vomit, although not from anything as mundane as alcohol.

He forced blood stained fingers down his throat, gagging at the taste, but it wasn't working.

He heaved and heaved, terrified over what sat bubbling in his stomach.

It wasn't working.

Why wasn't it working?

He spied the red squirming fruit in the corner of his vision. Those red eyes were still there, watching him flail in panic.

He lashed out, kicking it away. Anything to get those eyes away from him.

Too late, a voice seemed to whisper in his ear.

The fruit cannot be unbitten. Knowledge cannot be unlearned.

Merrill Rhodes screamed as his flesh twisted and turned, slits appearing all over his arms and legs.

He begged and pleaded as each slit tore open to reveal staring red eyes.

And he laughed and laughed as they began to cry bloody tears, rivers of red dripping down his limbs.