2 Hunger

The entire night is spent do anything everything to try and tire himself out so he can sleep, but nothing works and he only ends up hungrier. He lies in the bed until morning, staring up at the ceiling with tired eyes. Suddenly, an intoxicating smell grabs his nose. It brings him to his feet, and to the cell door. He looks to the left where the smell is coming from, and hears footsteps approaching.

He backs away from the door as the footsteps approach.

"Eat up," A guard states as they walk up to the door, sliding a tray through the hole. The man calmly takes the tray, waiting for the guard to leave before he reaches for the food. As his fingers are about to touch it, he stops himself. His hand shakes mere centimeters from the food as his hunger tries to force it into his palm. It takes all his willpower to grab the fork, and use it to eat the food.

The food still doesn't last long, but at least his fingers are coated in it. He puts the tray back in the hole and washes his hands, ignoring the lingering hunger. His hunger somewhat managed, he's finally able to get some much needed sleep. His stomach is quick to wake him when lunch arrives.

"Eat up," The guard states as they once more slide food to him. He eats it up as quickly as the last meal. This newfound hunger is seemingly insatiable. His body craves more. He spends the time between lunch and dinner to workout. As he's doing some sit-ups, a fowl stench clogs his nose.

He finds himself choking on it, having to get up due to coughing from the terrible smell. It smells like, a wet dog or something. Every breath he takes in makes him want to hurl. He stands over the sink, an arm against the wall to rest his head on as he tries to get use to the smell.

"Uh, excuse me?" A woman's voice asks, "Are you alright sir?"

He takes a deep breath before pushing himself away from the sink.

"I'm, fine…" He lies as he turns around. He's met with the white-haired woman from the lab standing on the other side of the bars.

"Okay...I, brought you your dinner," She states as she puts the tray up in the hole.

"...Why isn't the guard the one bringing me dinner?" He asks with a skeptical look.

"Hm? Oh, I've been, tasked with keeping tabs on you daily. They figured dinner time would be the best time to do so that way it doesn't interfere with my other work,"

The man continues to look at her with a raised brow, but still takes the food. Not even it's smell is enough to get rid of the dog smell.

"You own any dogs?" He asks before eating scoop of food.

"No, why do you ask?"

"I dunno, you kinda have that look," He comments before he resumes eating.

"Alright," She replies, clearly a bit weirded out. She brings up a clipboard she had been carrying under the tray, clicking a pen, "So, how have you been feeling recently?"

"Hungry," He replies as he eats the last scoop of good, placing the tray back in the hole.

"I can see that…" She mutters out of pure bafflement while he washes his hands, "Now, how hungry would you say you feel? An average amount, bit more than average, a lot more?"

"I could eat twice as many meals hungry," He replies as he walks up to the bar.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid there's nothing I can do about that...Anything else?"

"That's it,"

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow then," She takes the tray and walks off. As she goes away the dog smell disappears. He's left puzzled by it, but those thoughts quickly go away as his stomach reminds him that he's starving. He's once more awake all night.

...

"Here's your dinner," The woman states.

"What's your name?" He asks as he takes the tray.

"It's Ludmilla," She replies, "Might I ask your's?"

"John. Shouldn't you know that already?"

"I haven't really been told anything about you. I was just told to bring you dinners and ask about your condition after my normal work hours,"

"Well, Ludmilla...could you ask whoever you report to, to give me a midnight snack or something. I can't sleep at all with how little food I'm getting. My stomach gnaws at my insides, keeping me awake,"

"I'll see what I can do…" She replies, a worried look on her face, "Do you, feel anything else?"

"That's it," He replies once more.

A few more days pass, his temper growing shorter with every night spent awake. One morning as the guard is putting the tray in the hole, John suddenly reaches through the bars pulling the man towards him.

"Bring me a real meal, before I rip your arms off and eat them as a snack!" He roars. The guard barely manages to grab his taser, tasing him and forcing him to let go. He falls to the floor as the guard runs out of sight. He gets up, and sees the tray has fallen outside the cell, out of reach. He goes up to the bars, grabbing them and using all his strength to try and pry them open but they don't budge.

In a fit of rage he lets out a feral roar, punching the wall and hurting his knuckles. He groans in pain before running cold water on them to numb the pain.

He sits down on his bed, running his hands through his hair, his foot shaking rapidly as he tries to fight through the agonizing hunger. It only gets worse as the day goes on. Someone comes to clean up the mess, but no one comes to bring lunch. The familiar dog-scent of Ludmilla tells him its dinner time.

He gets up and stands in the corner, pressing an arm up against a wall and burying his face into it. The smell of the food digs its claws into him, trying to pry him away from the wall, but he's just barely able to resist.

"I heard about what happened this morning," Ludmilla states as she approaches the cell door, "Everything alright Jo-"

"Just put the tray in and leave," He interrupts her, not moving from his position despite hoe badly his hunger claws at him.

She doesn't respond. He's relieved when he hears her footsteps walking away. After some time he turns around to find the hall empty. He walks over and takes the food, practically burying his face into the plate like a rabid dog.

He wipes the food off his mouth with his sleeve and chucks the tray to the floor. Working out the entire night is all he can do to keep himself sane. When breakfast comes, he's surprised to see Ludmilla. There's more food on the tray than usual.

"They thought it best I serve you your meals from now on to, avoid, what happened yesterday morning," She states, "They also decided to finally increase how much food you're given,"

"...Thanks," John replies as he gest up from the bed. He's hesitant to grab the tray, "Would you mind, stepping back? I'd, rather avoid what happened too," She obliges, taking a step back from the door, and notices the tray on the floor. He grabs the tray and sits down on the bed. He stares at the food for a long time before he grabs the fork and starts eating.

"What happened to your hand?" She asks as she holds up her clipboard.

"I uh, punched the wall yesterday…" He responds, "I've been feeling a lot more, violent, lately. Like I, just want to tear someone apart…"

Ludmilla looks at him with concern before writing stuff down.

"Anything else?"

"Aside from the hunger, that's it,"

...

avataravatar
Next chapter