I couldn't tell what was worse, the ache of my healing ribs or the starvation. Never before had I been so hungry. Sure, there were the normal stages of hunger that most had gone through. You desire just a bite, a little nibble. Then, you start to crave a meal, your stomach gurgled a bit. If still not satiated you started turning all of your thoughts and decisions towards finding a way to feed yourself.
And then comes the eye of the storm. The moment when you are past hunger but know it lurks behind the corner. Then, it hits you. You start to shake and your mind will not leave the thought of food. Those heathens stopped this process, however, by feeding me sweet juice soaked in a sponge. Gauss had held it to my mouth by the use of his sword, the sponge sticking to the end of it.
But I drank. I felt like an animal but I did drink it. I wanted to live.
The sweetness of the juice took away the shakes but did not cure the hunger. After the fourth day, the feeling ceased altogether. I was feeling good by then, my mind in a state of euphoria. I could see things, bright and vibrant things floating around me. Sometimes I thought I could even feel them brush against my skin.
The only time I was reminded of my hunger was when the friendly cell rat scuttled home. My body, much like a praying mantis would do, lunged at the thing. My physical self did this without any conscious thought. It was trying to keep me alive even though the bright things told me I was just fine. My talks with them had led me to believe that they were quite persuasive. Sometimes even funny.
And every day was the same. I sat with my back to the cold wall, staring up at Gauss who sat on his bench across the dark room staring back at me. I tried my best to see how many blinks I could count but would get distracted with the floating things. I would curse myself for losing the game but still, I doubted he blinked more than fifty times a day.
But what was day? To me, I stopped the day when I fell asleep. When I awoke, that was a new day. But Gauss was always there. Awake when I was awake. Who was the true demon here?
Once and only once did I break the silence. I asked him why they just didn't kill me. Gauss had answered instantly with a voice that was not affected in the slightest by the silence. It was still strong and deep.
"Leader Nawgheed wishes you to remain alive. He still finds promise in you."
That had just brought more questions than anything. How could someone half demon as they say be of promise to a secret organization? What would they need me from me that they already didn't have?
"Why deprive me of food?"
"It is the only way we know how to bring the demon out of its host."
"Why? How? What happens?"
"You will see, priest."
That was the last question I asked him. The euphoria stopped around day eleven. I just sat there, still as the dripping wall behind my back. Gauss now force-fed me the sweet juice. My thoughts were replaced with the same buzzing noise I had heard when I was first stuck in this dungeon.
I lost count of how many days passed after that. How many days did Gauss and I stare at each other before that black thing crawled from my mouth?
The darkness within me responded to the squeaking mouse, it did this because it knew I would not. It wanted me alive. The unholy parasite sought survival.
My mouth wrenched itself open, my jaw coming unhinged. The pain of this brought me back to life as a black as night hand shoved itself out from my throat, scraping its dark cold skin on my grimy teeth.
Once clear of my teeth, the dark hand lurched me forward as it caught the now screeching mouse. It crushed it, blood shooting through its fingers. Tears welled in my eyes as the skin of my cheeks ripped from them being so taught.
As the hand began its retreat back into my body, another hand shot out from the wall, which now jiggled like gelatin.
Soon, I was surrounded by men, but these weren't like the ones I saw back in the Refuge. They did not wear tunics but shiny armor tinted a midnight black. That's all I could see as they forced my head sideways, my ripped cheek dragging on the rough cobble.
"Hold him still," came Gauss, walking up to me and his soldiers.
The man held out his hand and he was handed a long-curved blade.
"Extend the demon."
My feet were pulled back as the demon arm was pushed down by the wrist. I screamed as the foreign limb was pulled from my body. I felt as though I was continuously retching but with no half-digested food to show for it.
"There!" cried Gauss. He lifted the sword over his head and without pause brought it down.
CRACK!
The blade cut through the demon arm like hot butter, clinking loudly only half an inch from my lips. They let go of me and I pulled myself frantically, crawling backward as far from the black thing as I could.
The arm convulsed for a few seconds before melting into a black goo into the cracks of the cobble. The room was silent, all except for my heaving breathing.
"It didn't work sir," said one of the black armored men. He was pointing at my right arm.
I looked down at it and screamed in horror. It was shriveled like the skin of a sausage. When had that happened? Had this transpired while I was in a daze? How had I not felt it?
Slowly, meat and liquid, which I assumed to be blood, poured back into the soft skin sack and my arm began to take shape once again.
"Hold him!" commanded Gauss one more time. The men did so without hesitation.
I could scream without issue now and I did so. I cursed them all, I kicked as hard as I could, I even tried spitting. My breathing was so heavy that I could feel my belly pull so far into my stomach that it hid underneath my ribs.
It was over within a second. They held out my limp meat sack of an arm and Gauss cut it off. It too melted into the cobble.
The men who held me were breathing heavy now as well. They, along with me, had never seen anything like it. Unlike them, though, I waited for the pain. I clenched my teeth together and squeezed my eyes tight.
But pain never came.
What did come, however, was a pure black stem that budded from the already healed nub that stuck out from my right shoulder. I concentrated on it and... I wiggled it.
Gauss looked at me. This was the first time I saw confusion on his face.
YOU ARE READING
Cambion (Complete)
FantasyA boy is born through sacrilege. A pastor for a mother. A demon for a father. The devil wanted a son, and, using his evil trickery, was able to obtain one while simultaneously spitting in God's face. Follow the path of a teen once loved by everyone...