A/N- Vore implies that there will be character death by one character eating another character. I loved the idea of this genre when I heard of it and had to write this story. Be warned. I like gore and I'm obsessed with blood. This story gets gruesome fast and, although this chapter doesn't involve vore, it does include an OC's murder. Please don't read if you don't like blood, gore, or have a weak stomach. Enjoy. Love saichanlovestoad.
And I would like to state that this story was inspired inpart by GoldFox's Kurt Evens the Score and those lovely pics she gave me a link to. Thanks a bunch, love.
Lance rolled out of bed, moaning as he heard thumping and shouting coming from the hall. Pulling on jeans and a shirt, he walked out of his bedroom, searching for the source of the noise. Pietro banged rapidly on the bathroom door, hollering and shouting at Fred, who obviously was in the bathroom. Todd was sitting on the floor next to him, head down and shaking visibly. Wanda was no where to be seen, but, as she'd left three days beforehand, that was to be expected.
" What the hell is with all the noise?!" Lance demanded, storming over. Pietro spun around.
" Fred won't unlock the damned door and I have to piss real bad!"
" I didn't want to know that,"
" Then you shouldn't of asked," with that, the blond turned back to the door and continued to pound, "OPEN THE DOOR, FRED!! THIS IS THE ONLY BATHROOM IN THE HOUSE!!!"
" Stop shoutin', Quicksilver. He ain't gonna open the door just because you yell," Lance reminded him, stretching.
"I don't care. It makes me feel better about it,"
" Whatever," Lance turned to face the youngest of their team, who had drawn his legs up to his chest, " Are you okay, Toad?"
" Yea', yo," he muttered in a feeble voice, looking up with blood shot eyes. Lance arched an eyebrow, not convinced.
" You've been out of it for days,"
" I'm fine,"
" Sure," he looked away as the bathroom door opened and the screaming match over bathroom etiquette began between Fred and Pietro. A headache started to creep up Lance's temple and it had nothing to do with his power.
For a minute, he just stood there, rubbing his forehead and praying that he would phase through the floor and find himself somewhere, anywhere, but there in that hallway. Yet, his prayers went unanswered. When he opened his eyes again, Fred and Pietro were still yelling at each other and Todd looked like he was going to pass out.
" Toad, are you really okay?" Lance's concerned tone made Todd look up. He was paler then usual and couldn't stop shaking. That really bothered Lance. The last thing he needed was for one of his members to drop dead. Something told him that would give him the worse headache he'd ever had. He really didn't want to go through that.
" Yeah, man. I'ma good. Don't worry 'bout it,"
" You look faint,"
" I... haven't eaten anything all day, is all,"
" Well, why the fuck not, if it does this to you!!"
" I... ain't been hungry lately..." Todd answered, slumping against the wall and moaning. There was silence for a second as Lance felt something close to absolute insanity running through his body, but it was quickly replaced by sheer rage. He punched the wall above Todd's head, shaking with anger. All three of the other boys stared at him with large eyes.
The ground shook.
" DAMMIT, TULANSKY!!! YOU'RE ABOUT TO PASS OUT BECAUSE YOU AIN'T EATEN BECAUSE YOU AIN'T HUNGRY!!! ARE YOU RETARDED!!!!" he bellowed down at the boy, eyes livid with rage, his head throbbing with a fresh headache.
" Whoa. Lance's gone crazy," Pietro joked, nudging Fred, who smirked back.
" THIS IS WHY OUR TEAM SUCKS ASS!!! BECAUSE YOU'RE ALL STUPID!!! USE YOUR HEAD, TULANSKY, AND GO EAT SOMETHIN'!!!" he roared, causing the ground to shift and slam the three into the wall. With that, he marched into the bathroom, complaining about how stupid his team was and how he couldn't handle that kind of stupidity so early in the morning when he had such a raging headache.
" Congrats, Toad! You made Lance finally go crazy!" Pietro exclaimed, patting him on the head before zapping back over to the bathroom door and banging on it, " Hey! Lance! Open up! It's my turn!"
" There's waffles downstairs, if you're interested," Fred suggested, heading back to his bedroom. Todd waved him off, heaving himself off the floor, and walking down the stairs. For a second, Pietro watched him, finding it strange that he walked, not hopped, but then just contributed it to his hunger. He didn't think twice about it as he continued to bang on the door.
Downstairs, Todd stood aimlessly in the middle of the kitchen. There was some food on the counter and flies buzzing all around due to the excessive garbage. Usually, he'd immediately grad a snack or snag some fat flies out of the air and be satisfied and ready to go cause trouble with the rest of the Brotherhood. For the last few days, however, he hadn't even felt a pang of hunger. Yes, he'd been feeling awful because he wasn't eating, but he couldn't help it. He'd never been one to eat when he felt full. Lately, he'd felt full almost every minute of the day, so he hadn't even thought about eating. Of course, now that Lance was ready to rip his head off for being stupid and irresponsible, he had to eat something.
" But I ain't hungry," he whined, rubbing the side of his flat stomach. A fly drifted by and his tongue snapped out and caught it. He swallowed, hoping that would do it.
Todd heard what sounded almost like a click inside him. The kitchen tilted, he let out a gasp, and clutched the shirts over his stomach. As soon as he'd swallowed, he felt like his stomach had caved in and dragged his heart and brain with it. He collapsed to his knees, hugging his aching hole of a stomach. Every thought he'd ever had in his life shot through his mind before blanking out to one primal need. Hunger. Food. Hunger. Food.
His vision doubled, a ringing began to sound in his skull, and he could only gasp out. His body went numb, a painful numb, that extended from finger tips to feet and everything in between. Then everything went black for a long time, his body seemingly vanishing from the kitchen floor and dropping into a void of darkness detached from the rest of the universe. When his vision came back, his eyes were watery and his belly was throbbing in the most terrible of ways.
He knew what he needed. Todd needed food. He'd die instantly in the most painful, agonizing way if he didn't eat something within the next few seconds. There was no doubt about that.
As fast as he could, he grabbed the food that remained on the counter and crammed it into his mouth. It tasted terrible, absolutely terrible. He spat it back out, drawing away from the unappetizing food. His eyes scanned the room for something that wasn't so dead, so undesirable. The flies, they zipped by, but he didn't have to catch them to know he didn't want them. He could swallow them whole, without tasting them. He longed, his body longed, for something more. His mouth felt empty, as though he desired something he'd never had before but knew it would fill him up better then anything else in the world ever could.
This desire felt like it was tearing him apart. His hands shook, his body ached, a scream began to build in the back of his throat. Every inch of his body felt like it was on fire, his hearing dulling until he was deaf to the earth. The only thing he could hear was the ringing, that got louder and louder and louder until it was almost unbearable. But worse then anything else was the hole in his stomach. It ran deep, cutting away at his very being, ripping at his sanity in it's emptiness. He needed to feed his stomach and he needed what he desired, yet he knew not what it was he desired.
Todd let out a cry, curling up around his legs, his hands covering his ears to try and block out the ringing that pounded on his brain and bloodied his senses. His throat began to feel raw, as though being cut up along with his stomach. His vision filled with spots, his head swimming in a fiery haze that dimmed every sense in his body but touch and the agony of this miserable desire that was eating him away.
Then there was a clinking on the window that drew Todd's head up. A bird was fluttering outside the glass, settling onto the perch of the sill. It felt like a light had gone off in the most animalistic part of his brain. Everything became clear, more vivid then anything he'd ever viewed in all his life. Todd suddenly knew what he desired, what he needed to survive this fatal misery.
Blood. Fresh blood. Flesh. Fresh flesh.
In one bound, Todd left his spot on the floor and tore open the window. His tongue wrapped around the neck of the frantic bird before it could fly off. He grabbed hold of it and shoved it into his mouth in it's entirety. The bird squawked and struggled and he slammed his hands over his mouth, so that his catch couldn't escape.
The bird scratched at him. The fight brought heat to Todd's face. He relished this feeling of supreme power over a small, helpless living creature that had no chance at survival and knew this but still fought for one more breath of air. His tongue pushed the bird up and he shuddered with joy as it struggled.
Todd bit down on it's neck. There was a cracking, a choked squawk, and then the blood filled his mouth.
All that existed in the world was gone. There was nothing but Todd and that warm, sticky liquid that was slowly dripping down his throat. The taste redefined exquisite, divine, exotic. A true wine if there ever was one. The most perfect drink in all creation. Fresh, warm blood. That was what he'd been craving all this life. That feeling, that taste, that texture, overwhelmed him and brought tears to his eyes. Those tears began to run down his cheeks as he covered his face with his hands and swallowed the bird whole. The taste reminded and he cried. It was just too much for a lowly toad. He was unworthy of such perfection.
And yet... he wanted more.
Todd licked his lips free of the blood, wiping away his tears. He felt amazing, completely full and more alive then ever before. The bird's blood had awoken that primal side of him that made him feel like himself. That one mouthful had made that side of him run down his veins, take control of his being. He wanted to slay something else. Feel it struggle against his new found power, taste it's warm life giving blood as it's life drained away with each gulp. He wanted that more then air. He wanted it so bad, it hurt. Hurt in a way that drew a cry from his lips.
A sound echoed out from the entrance hall. Todd looked over in that direction, desperately trying to figure out what it was. His animal side couldn't comprehend it as anything more then a vexation he wanted to destroy. Before he could go kill it, however, a shout came down from upstairs.
" Answer the damn door, Toad!!" the voice brought back some of Todd's more human senses. The doorbell, of course. That's what that sound was. And that meant someone, a living creature, was at the door.
Todd slowly walked over to the door, shaking and trying to control the side of him that wanted to attack the sound that annoyed him so.
" If it's that paperboy, tell him to just leave it on the porch this time!! Tell him I'm not home, got it!!"
He pulled open the door. A young blond boy was standing there, holding a newspaper. When he saw Todd standing there, he began to ask questions about where that hot blond was and other meaningless garbage that the toad didn't care about. His mouth began to water as he stared at the boy's slender, unscathed neck. Underneath that skin was a vein, a vein that flowed with blood. Blood. That liquid that made the world a worthwhile place to live in. The essence of existence itself, right there in ample amounts just below that chattering mouth. Human skin was weak. It could tear easily. The blood would gush out in streams, there would be so much. He could get a million years worth of the precious liquid from that boy. He could stop the insane desires plaguing his mind. He could. He very well could.
" Be quiet," was all he said. Todd grabbed the boy's shirt and jerked him inside, kicking the door shut.
The boy began to talk in a louder voice, looking around wildly. Todd's hand locked around that neck and slammed his body into the chest, knocking the two of them onto the floor. Todd covered that moving mouth and licked the cheek that quivered with voice. He heard nothing. At that moment, his world became the clean, sweet, tender taste of the boy's virgin skin under his tongue. The taste was so pure, the texture so soft. He couldn't help but lick up and down the skin a few more times, watching as those green eyes widened to an almost humorous size. Little red veins popped out in the whites of the eyes. The sight made Todd smile and touch the soft flesh just below those fearful eyes.
Todd lowered his mouth then over the boy's neck and bit down. The salty taste of sweat reached his tongue, followed closely by the underlying scent of blood. That was all he needed. A hint of the perfect liquid, a promise at drinking it once again. That was all he needed to rip the boy's throat out. Blood pooled into his mouth and ecstacy swarmed over his body. Everything quivered as he lapped up his drink. The warmth ran down his throat and filled his stomach and thus warmed his being inside and out. Pleasure was the only thing he could feel for a brief moment in time. That moment froze, became it's own universe, and allowed him to feel the sheer happiness everyone else longed for, died for.
However, that moment was soon broken by a throbbing in the core of his stomach. Todd felt as though his mouth was empty and needed to be filled. His stomach was longing for food. He was hungry again, starving, ravenous, all over again. This time, though, he had the food he needed right in front of him.
Todd bit down on the bleeding wound of the boy's neck and ripped a strip of flesh off. It made a delicious sucking sound before it tore and snapped up. He swallowed it whole and found it's slippery feel so enjoyable, he felt dizzy with joy. Aching for that joy, he began to tear chunks of flesh out of the boy and choke them down in large gulps. His belly began to fill but it remained empty. He'd need a lot more to make up for the neglect he'd had for his physical needs in the last few days.
Todd relished the though and began to glut himself on the boy's flesh, bones, and blood. The bones cracked like music to his ears, the skin tasted of the sweet blood that ran over it and everything else in the world. All was red and food and filled Todd up to the extreme with pleasure and absolute joy. He was gone. He was in a world all his own and it felt so good.
" I'll go start the car," came a fast paced voice before footsteps came down the stairs. Pietro stopped in his tracks at the base of the stairwell, Fred and Lance frozen on the top couple. All three stared in sheer, raw horror at the sight before them.
Kneeling in a pool of blood and strips of flesh was Todd. Newspapers were soaking up the blood, scattered all over the place. The blood was splattered on the walls, covering Todd's shirts, which stretched over his swollen belly. Blood ran down from his mouth, which was open and revealed sharp fangs. His eyes were animalistic and a stunning black violet color, piercing in his blood stained face.
Lance gripped the railing for support, his knees giving out beneath him. Fred covered his mouth, his eyes widening so far that caused him pain. They couldn't believe that this red mess covering the entrance hall had at one time been a youthful paperboy. Their minds couldn't accept that, so all they saw was red and Todd in the middle of it all, covered in the same redness.
Pietro, on the other hand, was close enough to see the butchered remains of the boy who'd bothered him so just the other day. Now, all that was left was half a face with a terrified eye and some strips and chunks of flesh with bite marks in them. Bite marks. His blue eyes looked up at Todd's red mouth, his sharp teeth, and then down at the curve of his stomach. The blond began to shake violently, his arms locked at his sides, unable to pull his gaze away from the curved belly covered in blood stains. Slowly, he started to piece it all together and that made him shake even harder.
The pool of blood surrounded Pietro's sneakers. They began to soak up the liquid as it spread across the floor at a steady, inching speed. Those blue eyes locked on his sneakers where his feet were growing sticky and wet. Then he looked back up in terror, as though hoping for some sort of comfort about the situation.
Todd licked his lips.
" Oh my Gawd," Pietro uttered as his eyes rolled back in his skull. His body fell to the ground and slammed into the stairs below.