Hunger has a way of changing people.
By the time anyone notices, the person they knew is already gone.
By the time I left work, the city had already begun swallowing the last traces of daylight. I followed the same route home I had taken for years, barely paying attention to the passing storefronts or the traffic beyond them. Nothing about the evening felt unusual. As I walked home, I heard something striking the wall with a violent thud. It was late that evening, though I could not remember the exact time. The sound came from the corner of an alley, heavy and steady, almost like the pounding of a heartbeat. Instinctively, I quickened my pace toward the source. I first assumed it was a thug tormenting someone in the alley. But as I approached the corner, the noise gradually faded, as if the thing behind the corner had slipped into a quiescent state. Then my eyes slid through the corner. Something enormous appeared before my eyes. I was aghast at the condition of the body lying still on the concrete pavers beside a dumpster. A corpse-like mass seemed to have been left there recently. Its pale, rotten flesh released a foul, unfamiliar odor that made my stomach twist. I could not describe what kind of creature it was. It was unlike anything I had ever seen. My first instinct was to keep my distance. The sight of the corpse filled me with revulsion. I tried to compare anything similar—a bear, an ape, a tiger—but every comparison failed. It looked as if animals were stitched together and then violently torn apart. While its body was really pitch-black, covered with thick scales, a viscous purple liquid slowly oozed from its wounds. The pungent stench of decay filled my nose, making me fight the urge to retch. The stench twisted my serene visage into a mask of disgust. My tranquil mind started to be slightly agitated by it. I turned on my phone’s flashlight and examined it again, hoping I might understand what I was seeing. But I still could not. The only answer I could think of was to call the cop. I waited there for several minutes before the officer arrived to examine the area. With an overwhelming unease, I explained everything to them in detail: the sound, the body, the strange appearance, and the unbearable smell. To rid that in my mind, I bolted back home after reporting everything. I did not understand why the images, the smells, or the senses of the incident still lingered as if they stayed inside my mind like a sickness that refused to disappear. As I got home, my pet awkwardly approached to sniff at me—then backed away to the corner. I assumed that because of the cadaver’s smell.
SPLUSH SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT…
As the cold, fresh water flushed through my face and body, the alien sense I was given was oddly relieved. A streak of purple residue swirled toward the drain. I could not remember touching the carcass. After that, I tried to rest, but my eyes would not even close. Also, my mind and body were still uneasy. I could not remember when a slumber took over me, but when dawn split through the blind of darkness, the shrill chirps of birds awoke my consciousness. Today, I had to go to work. That was one thing that my head kept telling me. A routine of making coffee, checking emails from work, and feeding my pet started step by step with a small quibble from last night. My pet, this time, came to be affectionate, not to back away like last night. I lived with a roommate who had a different lifestyle—early to bed and early to rise so I scarcely met him. The day slipped by in the haze of routine. Work piled up, deadlines kept closer, and colleagues exchanged greetings as usual. I responded to them as fresh and focused on work, trying not to think about the scene I witnessed the previous night. “You look terrible,” my co-worker said. “I feel a little tired lately,” I replied. By late afternoon, I noticed a small, purple patch on my arm—maybe an allergic reaction to something. A chill from the office air conditioner dampened my thoughts, inviting drowsiness that no amount of coffee could chase away. As I walked home from the workplace, a few coughs scratched my throat, and my body ached with what felt like the beginning of a fever.
Strangely, the sickness didn’t steal my appetite. If anything, it sharpened it. By the time I reached my home, a voracious hunger settled in my stomach as if I had not eaten for days. I devoured my dinner in a minute, yet emptiness refused to leave until I ended up at a nearby restaurant. As I opened the door, my pet behaved the same—suspected, backed away, even hissed at me, though I had already washed my clothes. He might be under the weather; I have to take him to the Vet tomorrow. The smell should be gone. So I filled his food bowl and went to wash the dishes. Yet, something weird occurred. Water flushed through my skin, but the water impact was mild, or my sensation was dull somehow. It differed from my original sense, yet that only happened in a few seconds. I just might be seeing things. It seemed I really had to rest now. As I was about to recline on the bed, the purple veins slightly writhed under my skin. I noticed they slowly shifted to one another, which took me to the toilet. I had carefully checked them—even shorn flashlighted on my skin—but there was nothing. I blamed it on a lack of sleep. I switched off the bathroom light. Just before darkness claimed the room, something stirred beneath the purple veins on my forearm. I stared for a moment, then shook my head. It had been a long day. The next moment, I was standing in the alley again. This time, the environment was damper and heavier. I walked for a bit, then turned the corner. It was there—the cadaver. Yet, instead of lying, it stood still—staring at me. My body was terribly stiff as a board. My eyes did not even dare to look at it, firmly shut. Still, I tried to relieve myself by glimpsing it, to be careful. The body was still there, like a stone statue, not even a single move. Abruptly, the sound of a thud was heard, like on that day, something hitting the wall—the sound of a pounding heart. Thud! I told myself to leave. My right foot stepped forward. A frown crossed my face.. I hadn’t meant to move. Thud! Another step. I tried to stop, but my legs no longer listened. Thud! The stench of rotten flesh thickened with every unwilling step. Thud! I stood only a few feet away. The corpse remained perfectly still. Somehow… I knew it was looking at me. THUD!! I jolted awoke, my heart pounding violently against my ribs, drenched with sweat. The sunlight shone over my room, delivering a warm atmosphere. My brain got blurred, still not connected to the world. I, then, kept complaining—just a nightmare. After that, I hastily did my errands before going to work. My pet, for the time being, was out of sight as if he profoundly detested me. Perhaps I had to give him more time, yet I would take him today. When I got to the workplace, I could not even concentrate on work. The purple patch had spread from my forearm to my elbow. Pressing it no longer hurt. It felt like touching leather instead of flesh. My fingertips had gone strangely numb, and no matter how much I ate, the hunger refused to leave. Breakfast barely filled me. At first, I could certainly bear it; later, it devoured me, possessed me until I needed to take sick leave. I rushed home first, then went to the hospital; I was concerned about my pet. While I sprinted back, my vision blurred, my mind blanked, and my throat was sore from coughing.
Seventh returned to the rental house by sunset, frowning at the light still on. He pushed the door open. “You home?” No response. His stomach started to tighten. He carefully sneaked into the house, suspecting that someone might break in, until he saw the stain of blood smearing the kitchen floor. Scratches scarred the walls and ceiling, while vicious violet fluid stained the surfaces. An effluvia-like smell, similar to rotten meat, filled the room. Food was scattered across the floor. And Chomp Chomp… Nom Nom Nom… His heart skipped a beat. Every instinct told him to leave. Instead, he forced himself toward the kitchen. He momentarily composed himself before boldly peeking over it. Someone voraciously devoured something, squatting with his back turned. The skin beneath the torn shirt was no longer skin. The word caught in his throat, yet a familiar feeling emerged from somewhere deep inside him. “This back…my roommate?” He wanted to believe it wasn’t his roommate. “Hey, what are you doing?” That man slightly turned his head back with a naive gaze. His lips, drenched with vicious blood, curved into a smile. Oh, you’re back. “…Have you seen my pet?” That grin stretched wider than any grin should. His hand grabbed a piece of meat with something sticking out. “Have you eaten anything?” “There’s plenty left.” Let’s eat together.”
