It was like an itch he couldn't scratch.

No amount of training in the Rift could ease it. No matter how hard he punched, how often he tore open the gash in his hand, how fast he kicked, it wouldn't go away. It lingered in the silences, in the spaces where he was too exhausted to continue training. It whispered words he couldn't understand, tempting him.

Nena couldn't quell the itch either. He'd spend his days with her, focusing on her and her alone. They'd go out, they'd have a great old time. Yet in the quiet moments, the dull pangs of a hunger would come back.

Sleep gave him no relief, only succeeding to plunge him into nightmares of starseeds, demons, and maniacal laughter. He'd wake up in a sweat every morning, exhausted. He at first thought to just train harder, exercise longer until he was so exhausted he passed out wherever he teleported into. No amount of exercise or driving himself to exhaustion helped. Still the nightmares persisted. Still he woke up more tired than the last. No amount of booze, sleep aids or Nyquil doses made a difference.

By the end of March, Jarosite was a walking zombie. The pangs of hunger grew steadily worse the longer he went without decent sleep. The less energy he had, the harder it got to teleport to the Rift and train. The harder that got, the more likely he found himself walking the streets of Destiny City in the dead of night, unsure of how he'd gotten there.

That, in of itself, was dangerous.

Because somewhere along the way, and Jarosite wasn't sure when, he'd started to see the people walking around Destiny City as energy sources. If he could just have more energy, he could teleport into the Rift and train. That was how it started out, draining from his usual suspects only to consume it himself. At first, that satiated the hunger, quieting the whispers to a muffled buzz. He'd only take enough to quell the hunger pains, nothing more. After a while though, it seemed to take more and more to control the hunger.

He realized towards the end of February that he'd built up a tolerance to the energy he was absorbing. It took four, five, even six people to acquire enough energy to simply become sane, much less teleport to the Rift. The more energy he drained, the less he slept. The less he slept, the more energy he needed. It was a vicious cycle he tried in vain to break. He went cold turkey, he all but chained himself to the radiator in his apartment. When that didn't work, he did chain himself to the radiator.

Funny thing about being able to power up almost subconsciously: you never quite realize you've done it until you're in the middle of a park, acting like a vampire.

It kept getting worse, no matter what he did. No amount of drained energy would help, no amount of human medications made a lick of difference. He slept maybe three hours a night, or he didn't sleep at all. He was just so damn hungry all the time. If only he could stop being hungry for one day, maybe he could finally sleep.

There's another option... his mind would tease, whispering seductively in his ear. Just eat a starseed and you'll feel so much better. He rebelled against it, shouting at it. He wouldn't eat a starseed, he couldn't. He had morals, he had humanity to hold on to. If he ate starseeds, he'd be no better than the youma crawling the Rift. He was better than that. Jarosite was human first and foremost, captain of the Negaverse second.

But you don't even remember who your humanity is anymore... it counter, teasing him with the prospect of power and desperately needed sleep. It was true that Jarosite didn't know who his humanity was anymore, but didn't that make it all the more important to latch onto whatever he had left? Days were spent arguing with the voice in his head, a constant tug of war and test of will power that threatened to drive him insane. He fought, and fought and denied the dark part of himself that wanted to give in and sate his hunger damnit.

Willpower can only hold out so long though.

Jarosite got sloppier the longer he went without sleep. What he was doing in the middle of the morning in the park powered up, he wasn't exactly sure. But the joggers looked damn appetizing, and he was on a mission to prove he could sustain on drained energy alone. He watched them until one wandered off by themselves, through a section park not often traveled. Jarosite stalked him until he came to a stop at a bench to rest. The jogger was some no name man in his late fourties, maybe early fifties, who clearly was trying to prove he was still in shape. By the way he sucked air, gave clear indication that he didn't do this often enough to make a difference.

The blue haired young man wasn't sure when or how he'd moved, but he was suddenly in front of the panting man.

"Need somethin' kid?" came the terse question. Jarosite said nothing, leaning over him. He hung there for an incredibly long time, hand outstretched for the man's harm to drain energy.

Reach for it and pull it. He's not using it anyway, the voice suggested to him. His hand gravitated over the man's chest, hesitating. Do it Jarosite. Do it, and sleep.

"Oi kid ******** off or I'll call the co-" The captain plunged his hand into the man's chest with a hunger filled growl. Finger curled around the object floating in his chest, and a heavy wave of hunger thundered through him. He felt the starseed pulse in his hand once, then a second time. It begged him to take it.

He did not need a third push of encouragement.

Jarosite jerked his hand back, star seed and all, and the man fell limp on the bench with a thud. He studied the object in his hand very briefly, hesitating again for a brief moment. Some muffled part of him cried out in horror at the action, trying to get through the haze of hunger. The captain argued that he wanted to sleep and plopped the starseed into his mouth. He bit down on it with a satisfying crunch.

His entire body thundered with the energy within the starseed and he felt truly awake for the first time in weeks. It surged through his veins and sent his nerves on fire with a feeling of near pleasure. He was full of energy, he was awake, and by Metallia his hunger was gone. Jarosite trembled with the energy in his veins and let out a low laugh that slowly rose into something more off-kilter and almost animalistic.

He grinned far too wide for his face and popped out of existence without another thought. He was barely within the confines of his apartment before the burst of energy faded, and he let out a shuddering breath as his civilian self. Once sure the pangs of hunger weren't coming back, exhaustion took hold and Jarosite passed out on his couch.

Twenty four hours later he woke up, refreshed and well rested for the first time in months. The man he'd killed had given his life to the Negaverse to make sure one of its own didn't fall to ruin. It was justified, and that was the end of the matter.

In the deep dark of his mind, the spider grinned and slinked back into its web, content for now.


[ WC : 1288 ]