Part 4: Gluttony
We are all born wanting.
We want love, nourishment, safety, but as we age we begin to want for more than our basic needs.
Money.
Power.
Pleasure.
We take and take until our bellies swell painfully, begging us to stop but yet still we want more. So then how do you know when it's too much? Is it when you're so ravaged by addiction that you forgo your humanity? Or maybe it's when you become so lost in your indulgence that nothing ever satisfies you anymore.
I could hear my bones rattling as I walked into the office. People were gathered around whispering at their desks. I ignored them, thinking it was nothing more than idle office gossip making its rounds through the department. As soon as I sat down to clock in a long boney hand emerged from the other side of the screen.
"Dyani did you hear?"
"Hear what?" I asked through a mouthful of mints.
"Apparently the Lust Department was having a little trouble inciting souls this month so we're ahead of them by quite a bit. If we stay ahead it looks like this month we'll be winning that pizza party!"
My co-worker chirped, practically salivating at the thought. I rolled my eyes, though she couldn't quite see that through my helmet. The sleek golden helmet locked onto my neck only ever opened when it was time to eat. Boss says it's to keep us from accidentally devouring each other. Honestly, with the way Aren over here was breathing so heavily over a pizza party we hadn't even won yet, it was a reasonable enough measure. The folks down here are prone to...well...having big appetites. Once you start to indulge, it becomes quite difficult to stop. It was a toil I knew well.
"We've still got a few more days left in the month, they could make a comeback."
A muffled scoff came from beneath Aren's helmet. "Don't jinx us! If they do manage to pull through I think I might just eat that little toy Asmodeus keeps around out of spite."
I shrugged. "Go ahead...if you don't mind dying a second time."
She kissed her teeth and scurried off to the kitchen. Aren was a greedy pig in every sense of the word. In fact, it was thanks to her that I found myself down here in this hell hole. Stuck with her in life, stuck with her in the afterlife, she seems to think we're the best of friends. I can't tell if she's brain-dead or just doesn't care. I've been trapped here with her for 112 years and no matter what I do, she insists on pestering me.
Maybe it's a sentimental thing for her. I doubt other souls she's managed to capture have ended up working here with her. Or maybe she pulled some strings with the boss in light of our friendship during life. Was she expecting me to be grateful? To forget all the pain she caused me?
My stomach grumbled and I felt that incessant ache that hasn't once left me all these years. I stood from my seat, bones cracking and begging me to sit back down as I angrily made my way to the kitchen. I'll never forgive her. People think us demons are to be feared but sometimes it's your own people, the living and breathing that have it out for you the most.
112 years ago
"Listen...I know how hard you've worked on this, but I honestly think it's still missing something."
"What! But I've edited everything the way they wanted me to!"
Aren sighed. "It just doesn't feel like you're writing anymore." She plopped my manuscript back onto the table.
The manuscript scattered across the table, falling onto the ground just to be stepped on by someone walking by our table.
"HEY! Are you fucking blind? Watch where you're going!"
I ripped the pages from beneath their foot, vaguely making out their rambling apologies as they hurried away. My lips quivered and my head throbbed the more I tried to fight back the tears. Aren looked around at the other café patrons, quietly apologizing for my outburst but I didn't care.
"Dyani, I know you're stressed." She reached out and grabbed my hands from across the table. "I'm not just saying this as your editor, but as your friend, this project is not going to get anywhere. You need to start fresh with something new."
"No! I can't!"
I had been working on this project for years now. It was intended to be a mystery thriller, but each time I sent the manuscript to Aren, it would return with more and more things to be edited out. In the beginning, it was understandable and I was more than willing to polish things up, but soon the requests started becoming ridiculous. Aspects of the book that weren't an issue before were suddenly a problem. Each time I changed something, it was like a part of me was being erased. Eventually, even I couldn't recognize my own writing. It was no longer the story I wanted to tell.
But the damage was done.
I had no way of salvaging things now.
Aren's encouragement was the only thing keeping me going. She had introduced me to her editorial company and was the only one willing to take a chance on my book, but now it seems like it was all for nothing.
Aren sighed again. She was used to my stubbornness by now, but part of me did feel bad for lashing out.
"If you still want to keep trying, then I think I know something that might help."
This was it. Every time I started to lose steam, she would dangle a thread of hope in front of me. How long until this one snapped? I pushed the thought out of my mind and listened intently.
"You're missing a spark, something that feels...real...visceral. As it is right now, everything feels empty. You need something to ignite that spark again."
'So what should I do?"
"Well...have you thought of testing things out for yourself?"
"Like...acting things out?"
She nodded.
"...that...might work..."
She smiled. "Give it a shot and see if it inspires anything. We'll talk again tomorrow."
Maybe it was because I had stayed up all night, but I was more irritated than usual. I tried to act out a few scenes last night but something just wasn't clicking. My leg bounced anxiously as I waited for Aren to walk through the café doors. I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I almost missed her when she did. It wasn't until she spoke that I realized she was already pulling up a seat next to me.
"So how did it go?"
"...not well," I confessed.
She hummed in response. "I thought that might be the case. You look like you've been pulled out of your grave."
I kissed my teeth. "I don't know what I'm missing!"
"Follow me."
She didn't wait for me to respond. I gathered my things and followed her to her car.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"I prepared something I think might give you a little push in the right direction."
We drove in silence for some time. Eventually, I noticed that we were headed out of the city. I couldn't tell if it was curiosity or nerves, but my hands shook with anticipation when I opened the door and got out of the car. Aren had brought me to an old barn on the outskirts of the city. It looked like it had long since been abandoned. I followed her inside. My face scrunched up when the musty scent hit me.
"What are we doing here?"
"Dyani, meet your acting partner!"
I felt my heart sink when I looked past her. A person sat tied to a chair. They were blindfolded and gagged.
"What the hell?"
Aren put her hands up. "Wait. Before you freak out, it's a doll." She poked the doll's arm. It wobbled and sprung back right in place.
I cautiously reached out and touched the exposed skin on its arm. "I-It...certainly doesn't feel like it."
It didn't move or make noise and it held no traces of human warmth but when my fingers touched its arm I couldn't help but think that it felt uncannily like skin.
"Where did you get it?"
Aren shrugged nonchalantly. "I have friends with unique hobbies. It just so happens one of them likes to make life-size dolls. They're mainly for display purposes in shops but he had a few extra ones so I asked if we could use them."
"Oh...okay...so what am I supposed to do with it?"
Aren began pulling props out of her bag. "Let's start with the main issue. Your villain isn't scary. Perhaps if you were to act out the scene where he captures and tortures the protagonist's best friend, you might get a better idea of how to write it."
She handed me a knife and gestured towards the mannequin. I didn't notice that my hands were shaking until I raised the knife to the Mannequin's throat. Hesitantly, I drew the knife across the mannequin's surface. Blood trickled down the small cut I made, making me flinch back in shock.
"You said it was a mannequin! Why is it bleeding?"
"I asked my friend to make some minor adjustments to its build so you could get a more realistic feel for things."
I knew this was important for my writing to progress but the panic that crept into my mind was too much to ignore. Aren shook her head in frustration and snatched the knife from me.
"Look if it's too much for you then we don't have to-"
"N-No! I can do it I just...just..."
She sighed. "Okay, why don't I play the role of the villain and you just observe this time?"
"Y-Yeah...I can do that."
Aren moved in front of me and raised the knife.
"Watch carefully. This is what a murderer looks like."
She brought the knife down, lodging it into the side of the mannequin's throat. Blood poured out of the wound she inflicted. Fighting the urge to gag at the sight, my hand absentmindedly covered my mouth. The mannequin slumped to the side, its weight pulling it down with the chair it was tied to.
THUMP
When it fell over, the blindfold around its eyes became dislodged, revealing a glassy eye. My heart may as well have stopped at that moment. At my feet was not a mannequin but a living human that was now quickly bleeding out. A single tear escaped their eye as it lost its light.
My head snapped towards Aren. "AR-"
Any panic I felt before caught in my throat when I saw the look on Aren's face. She was smiling? What on earth about this situation was worth smiling about? She just killed someone! And I saw it! Was she going to kill me too if I backed out now? I forced myself to pull my attention away from the crazed look in her eyes. There was no doubt in my mind. If she was capable of murdering a stranger for "inspiration," then what was stopping her from doing the same to me?
"Isn't it beautiful Dyani? Look at how rich that blood looks."
A chill engulfed my body like I too had lost the warmth of life in that moment. I was always much taller than Aren and part of me briefly wondered if that would give me an edge if I were to try and subdue her. As quickly as the thought came, it was banished. Aren's small hands darted out and grabbed me. Her grip was so intense that I thought her fingers would sink right to my bones. She pulled me to my knees in front of the dead stranger and laughed again.
"Look closely. This is the kind of vivid imagery you want to capture. Take it all in. The colours, the smell, the taste."
"The...t-the wha-"
Without so much as a word, she reached down into the pool of blood and smeared her hand across it before yanking me back by my hair and shoving her fingers in my mouth.
"Well? How is it? Simply delightful isn't it?"
Using all my strength, I pulled away from her, sputtering and choking both on the vile taste of blood and my own tears.
Aren rubbed my back while I threw up, begging for anything to get rid of the taste. "Aww, I know it's a little overwhelming right now. That's okay. It'll get better with time."
Before I could catch my breath she grabbed the back of my head and pulled me back toward the corpse. This time she pushed my face towards it, forcing me closer.
"Look Dyani. Do you think you can write now?"
Craning my neck back to look at her, I froze. Her eyes were almost...glowing? A strange sense of calm dispelled all of the horror that previously consumed my senses. My voice wouldn't raise over a whisper. Almost as if the spell would shatter if I spoke any louder.
"Yeah... I can write..."
As soon as the words left my mouth, a sharp pain erupted in my stomach. It was the most intense hunger I had ever felt in my life. No, it wasn't just hunger, it was something else entirely. It felt like my body was caving in on itself. My vision blurred right as a perpetual chill set in. I could no longer concentrate on Aren's face. All that was left was the whispery call of unconsciousness.
Several Years later
In the years that passed the incident began to feel less like a horrific memory and more like a distant nightmare. I don't even remember going home. Perhaps it was wishful thinking but part of me was convinced it was nothing more than a really vivid dream. Maybe the stress had just gotten to me.
Aren was the same as always, like nothing had even happened the day prior. She never said anything and neither did I. Why would I? If it really was a dream then I would sound crazy and besides, it did end up helping me overcome my writer's block. The manuscript I submitted after that nightmare was exactly what I needed to get back into the swing of things.
The company loved it!
Until they didn't.
"Dyani, maybe you should rest. Your last series was a huge success but maybe it's time to take a break yeah?"
"What? No, sir, I promise I'm completely fine. I can keep writing. I've only just started the next series, how can I take a break now?"
Aren sighed. She set a cup of tea in front of her manager before taking a seat next to me. "He's right. You're going to burn out at this rate."
Whose side was she even on?
"I SAID I'M FINE!" I slammed my hands on the table, knocking over the cup of tea in the process. "I-I'm so sorry sir! I don't know what came over me! Let me clean it up!"
I rushed to get some paper towels, a dark cloud of embarrassment hanging over my head as I exited the room. It didn't take me long to find it. When I returned I could vaguely hear Aren and her manager speaking in the room.
"Are you sure she's okay? I know she's always had a temper but don't you think she's been more irritated ever since she completed that first series?"
There was silence and then a long, exhausted sigh. "I thought it might just be the stress getting to her..." replied Aren.
"All the more reason for her to rest. We should-"
I pushed open the door, admittedly with more force than I intended. "I brought paper towels!"
Aren and her manager exchanged a look before turning their attention back to me.
"What were we talking about again?"
The manager cleared his throat. "Right, Dyani. Aren and I think that it would be best for you to take some time off. It doesn't have to be long. A day at most even."
"...fine."
"Come, I can drive you home."
"You know you don't have to keep an eye on me right?"
Aren took off her shoes and made herself at home. "Oh yes, I do. If I wasn't here you'd just go right back to working on the manuscript."
I huffed, flopping onto my couch. Aren made her way into the kitchen to make us something to eat.
'You really should clean this place up a little," She said, picking a sheet of paper that had fallen off my desk.
Instead of going straight into the kitchen, she paused, looking at what was written on the paper.
"Is this your idea for the new series?"
"Yeah. Since the mystery murder series went well I thought something in the same vein would work."
"...interesting...what do you feel like eating?" She asked, finally going into the kitchen.
"I'll eat anything. I'm starving!"
I could hear her laugh while she rummaged through the drawers. "Have you even been eating properly? It looks like you haven't used anything in here in ages."
"I have," I assured her. "It's just that nothing's really filling these days."
'A familiar sensation hit me for a brief second. That ravenous ache I felt in my stomach in that nightmare came bubbling up to the surface. I shook my head and got up to help Aren. She was busy cutting up some vegetables so she didn't see me coming in.
"What did you decide to make?"
She jumped, not expecting me to suddenly be in the kitchen. The knife she was holding slipped and ended up cutting her finger. Aren hissed in pain, clutching her hand with a towel.
"Ah! Did you get cut? Let me see!"
I gently took her hands in mine and unwrapped the towel. There was so much blood. It soaked through the towel. The smell was...intoxicating.
"We have to...clean the wound..."
Without thinking I brought her finger to my lips and licked it clean. The second her blood touched my tongue pain ripped through my body. I remembered this pain. I may have only felt it once before but there's no way I would forget it. My stomach burned in agony, begging me to fill it with something, anything! I couldn't tell if it was me who was breathing so heavily or Aren. I was too preoccupied with the extreme agony that consumed me. My legs gave way and I fell to the floor, pulling Aren down with me.
I had to do something.
Crunch
I needed to do something.
Crunch Crunch
Fast.
Ah, that hits the spot....but...it's not enough...
"Oh, dear. You just couldn't wait for dinner to be finished could you?" I heard Aren chuckle. She stroked my hair soothingly. "Here, have some more," she said with a smile.
Pushing her hand towards me, she put another finger in my mouth. Before I could register what was happening I was already chewing. Something about her flesh soothed the pain in my stomach, but it wasn't enough! My teeth sunk into her arm, ripping the flesh off. Aren didn't even make a sound. She just sat there smiling. Her blood was so savoury and her flesh so soft, I thought I would pass out from euphoria but I couldn't quite get there.
The sensation only lasted for a moment before fading away like it never existed in the first place. I wanted more...no I needed more! I pushed Aren onto her back and grabbed the knife she had dropped. Sawing away at chunks of her side, I stuffed my face so eagerly that at one point I thought I might choke if I didn't slow down. Yet still, it wasn't enough!
As soft as her flesh was, it was taking too long to cut her up so I threw the knife aside and did the only thing I could think of that might finally fill the emptiness in my stomach. I began tearing at her body with my teeth. Flesh and blood now scattered through the kitchen.
More.
More!
I need MORE!
...
"A...ren..."
Her lips remained curled into an eerie smile. It was the only thing she was able to respond with. She couldn't speak anymore... I had made sure of that. Her head was all that remained. The rest of her bones were left in a mess of patches of flesh that still clung to her body and blood. Before guilt or terror could even process, something else crept into my head.
Inspiration.
Just like I had in that dream, I felt overwhelmed by a sudden rush of inspiration. Although I wasn't too sure that was a dream now. Completely drenched in her blood, I stumbled to my feet and scrambled to the typewriter. Her blood stained the keys as I frantically began to write my next manuscript. As if possessed I hurriedly wrote out the title of the new series.
"The Devourer"
I don't know how much time had passed since I entered that trance. The overwhelming stench of old blood broke my concentration, bringing me back to my senses. It was enough to tell me that I had been writing for days without rest. Looking at the mess, I knew that no matter how much I cleaned, it was already too late. The scent was so deeply permeated through the room, that there would be no hiding what I had done.
First things first, I showered and slipped the completed manuscript into an envelope. When I left my house to have it mailed to the editors a startling realization dawned on me. Nobody knew what had happened to Aren...nobody knew what I did. The world continued moving. How many people would shudder to know what I had done mere nights prior only to now be walking among them like it never happened?
"Dyani? Is that you?"
I froze. Aren's manager spotted me on my way to the post office. He ran up to me like I was going to evaporate if he didn't get to me quick enough.
"Have you seen Aren lately? Nobody can seem to get in contact with her."
"Oh... I-well...no I haven't seen her since the day of our meeting. I decided to take your advice and go on a little vacation. When I got back I was busy writing up the new manuscript so I didn't meet with anyone else."
I handed him the manuscript.
"Ah, I see. She hasn't dropped by to visit you either?"
"No, not at all!"
Relief washed over me when he seemed to buy into my lies, but the relief I felt was gone the instant a familiar voice drifted into my ears.
"Haha! Come on now Dyani. You know that's not true."
I stayed silent. At first, it sounded like it was coming from inside my head but the confused look on the manager's face said otherwise.
"D-Did you just hear something?" I asked cautiously.
The manager nodded. Both of us looked around in confusion but Aren was nowhere in sight. Yet her voice rose again from somewhere close, though this time it sounded louder.
"I'm right here!"
I felt a vibration in my stomach. It almost tickled. I thought I was just getting hungry again when it began to hurt, but I quickly realized that it was a much different kind of pain.
Blood began to seep through my dress as I dropped to my knees. The manager grabbed my shoulders panicking at the sight of the growing blood stain.
"Come now, don't scream! Aren't you happy to see me again?"
The voice became louder once more and that's when I realized that the pain I felt was not hunger but rather something chewing through my stomach from the inside. It chewed straight through my dress until I could see its bloodied figure from the hole in my body.
I felt unbearably cold and the site of a head no bigger than that of a baby's sticking out from the hole it chewed in me was downright disgusting. People had begun to stare and crowd around us. This must be a nightmare. It had to be, but the horrified look on the manager's face when the head fully emerged from the hole and turned to face us was all I needed to know that this was no dream.
"AREN?" I shrieked.
"Did you miss me?"
I couldn't tell you if the screams that echoed down throughout the street were mine or from the crowd. Aren had the same warm smile she had before I ate her. Her expression didn't change.
"Come on Dyani. It's time to go now."
"SOMEBODY HELP!" I shouted in desperation.
Aren continued talking, ignoring my pleas for help. "You received a lot of help from me. It wouldn't be fair if I didn't take something for myself. Don't you agree?
"GET OUT! WHAT DO YOU WANT?"
"Your soul."
Before I could even comprehend what was happening, her jaw unhinged unnaturally and she snapped it shut right on my head.
Then...nothing.
When I opened my eyes again I found myself laying on a woman's lap. She had a shimmering gold helmet on. When I felt her hands on my neck I jolted up, scrambling to my feet.
"Ah, you're awake!"
I raised my hands to my head. She had put the same sort of helmet on me as well. I dug my fingers into where it locked around my neck and tried to pry it off but my skin began ripping off with it. The woman grabbed my hands and pulled them off the helmet.
"Don't! Beelzebub is the only one who can remove the helmet. You'll only hurt yourself if you try."
"... Y-You...Aren? YOU DID THIS TO ME?"
A muffled scoff came from beneath her helmet. "Please, you did it to yourself, I was just there to help."
I moved to grab her but fell limp at her feet.
"What's wrong? Feeling a little weak are we? Don't worry that comes with the hunger. You'll get the hang of it soon."
"What-"
Aren opened a pair of double doors behind her and turned to help me up. "Welcome to Morningstar Inc. Dyani! You're rather lucky. Boss took a liking to your soul and decided to offer you a job."
I could hear the disgusting grin on her face as she spoke. "I look forward to working with you!"
Present Day
Almost as if to mock me, no matter how much I consumed all these years, nothing provided any kind of sustenance. So my body was reduced to this emaciated state. My bones rattled as I walked, like they would give way any second. I was honestly surprised that I was still able to move after all this time.
CRASH
Concerned screams and people rushing to the kitchen drew my attention. I followed the crowd to see Aren laying on the ground, struggling to push herself back up. She no longer had the energy to keep herself standing, nor did she have the energy to cry out in frustration. It was a sight I'd seen many times already in all my years working here.
Eventually, employees would waste away into mangled ghosts of what they once were. Unable to find any kind of sustenance, they'd die and a new, completely healthy employee would replace them only to slowly starve, eventually meeting the same fate as all those before them. It was a slow and painful death. One that I didn't think I would have to face in the afterlife of all places, but here we are.
It looked like Aren had reached her expiration date. Good riddance. If I'm being honest her flesh was beginning to smell a little rotten. I raised my hand to wave goodbye. It trembled with each movement and I briefly wondered when my time would come. I imagine it was a lot sooner than I'd like to admit.
It was strange. Even now, faced with death for the second time, I couldn't help but think back to my life as a human.
I wonder...
How well did my last book do?
"But how can you live and have no story to tell?"
~Fyodor Dostoyevsk
ns 15.158.61.17da2
