I stared at the carcass.
The cockroach's legs still twitched now and then, nerve impulses firing in the absence of life. Its slick black blood had pooled around it in a thick, oil-slick sheen that caught the harsh kitchen lights. I stood a few feet away, still panting, arm wrapped tightly with a strip of fabric torn from my shirt. The wound burned, but it was dull now, distant. All I could think about was the size of the thing.
How did it get that big?
Radiation? Maybe. Mutation triggered by whatever cosmic nightmare Despoena had set off? Also possible. Or maybe this was just evolution sped up—Nature's way of saying, "If you humans are done with the planet, I'll take it back now."
My stomach twisted. Not in hunger this time, but something darker. Dread. Disgust. Something primal.
And then, without warning, a soft chime rang in my head.
NeoLink System Booting…
Analyzing Nearby Bioform:
Species: Blattodea Mutatus
Classification: Mutant Cockroach
Energy Yield: +53 Hunger
Would you like to absorb the subject?
Absorption will integrate physical, behavioral, and biological data into the NeoLink survival database.
The holographic screen hovered in front of me, pulsing faintly in the dim light. I stared at it, heart thudding.
"Absorb it?" I muttered. "What, like… a goddamn Pokémon?"
My stomach gave a weak growl. I glanced back at the corpse, bile rising in my throat. It reeked—like a dumpster lit on fire and doused in vinegar. I could still taste the coppery tang of my own blood from earlier.
But there was no food. No rations. Not unless I wanted to try my luck with fungus growing on old protein bars.
The NeoLink pulsed again.
Confirm Absorption?
I swallowed hard. "Yes."
Confirmed. Initiating metabolic override…
Immediately, something shifted.
A heat spread through my chest, down my limbs, coiling low in my stomach like a live wire had been plugged into my spine. My hands trembled. My breath hitched. And then—
Hunger.
It slammed into me like a tidal wave. Not just hunger—but need. An aching, bone-deep craving. My vision narrowed. The corpse in front of me wasn't disgusting anymore—it was food. Vital. Necessary.
I dropped to my knees.
"No, no, no—this is messed up," I whispered, trying to resist. But my hands moved on their own.
I grabbed one of its legs—thick, armored, jagged—and ripped. A sickening crack followed as it broke loose, dripping with fluids that smelled like hot garbage and battery acid. The taste should have repulsed me. It did. And yet…
I sank my teeth into the shell.
Pain exploded in my mouth as the jagged carapace tore my gums. My lip split. Blood mingled with whatever vile substance coated the thing's body. I gagged, coughed, but kept chewing. The meat beneath was stringy, rubbery—like biting into week-old shrimp dipped in gasoline. It oozed something metallic and oily.
I bit again. And again.
Tears streamed down my cheeks—not from sadness, not even from pain—but because my body refused to stop. The stench made me retch between swallows. Still, I tore chunks from the thorax, devoured slivers of meat, cracked into a joint to reach the softer innards.
It was like watching myself from far away—trapped in a body gone feral.
And then, mercifully—
Hunger Requirement Fulfilled.
Updating system… Please remain still.
I dropped the leg, coughing, spitting fragments of shell. My mouth bled freely now—tongue swollen, jaw aching. I stumbled backward and slumped against a wall, this one still intact. No vines, no debris. Just cold, clean tile against my back.
My hands were shaking. My shirt was soaked in black ichor and red blood. My blood.
What the hell am I doing?
I stared down at the half-eaten monster, already beginning to stink in new, acidic ways. I'd just eaten a goddamn mutant cockroach. Like an animal. No, worse than an animal. Even raccoons wouldn't touch that abomination.
I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, letting the chill of the wall seep into my skin.
The silence was thick again, except now I knew it wasn't peaceful.
It was just the waiting between horrors.
I exhaled slowly and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Bits of shell scraped across my cheek.
"Well," I muttered, voice hoarse and bitter, "at least I'm not hungry anymore."