Page 100 of The Hunger
There was another sudden squeal.
“That was a lot faster,” she called. “A bit more, too. Do you know if it’s supposed to taste like swamp water?”
I gagged on her behalf.
“I’m honestly not sure. My mom told me that every species will taste different.”
There was another loud squeal, and I backed away from the door. Even though I could hear Piepen’s high-pitched cries, I couldn’t sense the lust the pair of them were generating.
Grateful for that small respite, I returned to my bed. However, every time I was close to dozing off, I’d hear one of them. Either Merri’s garbled words or Piepen’s moans and shouts.
It didn’t stop.
My hunger shifted restlessly, even though I had no interest in tasting what they were doing. I wasn’t sure how long I lay there before I decided to text Fenris. However, my phone wasn’t in its usual place on the surface of my nightstand. I turned on my light and searched for it before, with a sinking feeling, I slowly faced the closed bathroom door.
My phone. All I could think for a horrible moment was that I’d left it on vibrate.
With the distraction of texting Fenris an impossibility, I left my room and made a napkin of food for Merri. Hours had passed according to the kitchen clock. Hopefully, the food would distract Merri long enough that I’d be able to fall asleep. The spinach leaves, sliced strawberries, and sunflower seeds all slid easily under the door.
Once I had the towel back in place, I knocked.
“I brought some food for you, Merri.”
“Thank you, Eliana.” The girl sounded tired. A moment later, I heard her thump against the other side of the door.
“Oh, this is just what I needed,” she said, sounding more like herself. “I didn’t think it would take this long. I can see that it’s helping, though. He’s almost regained his full spectrum of color. So that’s good. But, he’s not staying awake for long.”
“Maybe he needs to eat something, too. Once, I forgot to feed him when he was here, and hunger definitely made him weak and lethargic.”
“Okay. I’ll try that.”
“Do you need anything else?”
“No. Thank you for letting us stay here.” There was a brief pause. “What if he doesn’t wake up by morning?”
“Then, I’ll ask Mrs. Quill for help. If she doesn’t know what to do, she’ll know someone who does.”
I felt a little guilty crawling back into bed, knowing what I was leaving Merri to deal with. But I was so tired and could feel my hunger growing more ravenous as I closed my eyes. Thankfully, sleep swallowed me whole. There were no good dreams of cake-filled forests, though. Just nothingness mixed with a hint of pain. It radiated from my middle.
Near dawn, mere hours after falling asleep, I woke to that clawing need. Disoriented, tired, and hurting, I stumbled toward the bathroom. I was only thinking of distracting myself with a shower.
The moment I walked into a wall of skunk smell, I remembered everything and lifted my head.
It looked like a bottle of glitter had exploded over my mirror and my counter. The brownie responsible was lying flat on his back on the towel I’d provided for them. His eyes were closed and his color closer to normal. Merri’s head rested on his abdomen, one hand clutching his tiny pole. Without warning, sparkles erupted again.
Merri lifted her head tiredly.
“Sorry about the mirror. I used my mouth at first, but there was so much pressure it almost came out of my nose. I’ve been using my hand since then.” She grabbed his acorns. “They’re not as hot anymore. I think he’s almost done.”
Another shower of glitter, all the colors of the rainbow, exploded from Piepen. They drifted down in slow motion, dusting my phone with another layer of sparkle.
My phone. The device I held close to my face.
That dark thing inside of me twisted, and my eyes went dark.
Merri noticed and flitted into the air.
“I’ll clean it up. I promise.”
