The moment Vespa placed the starseed in his mouth, he knew that there was no going back. In truth, Super Sailor Vespa, the ever loyal, the ever bumbling, had suspected that the moment he chose to investigate the accident that there was no turning back. The moment he made his presence in the area known as Vespa, the moment the other officer was in sights, he had reach the point of no return. Like a mouse catching the eye of the ever watchful cat, Vespa knew that the moment their eyes met, his night was destined to change, and now, even as he placed the starseed between his upper and lower jaw at the back of his mouth, even when he wanted to think of a way out of this mess, he knew… his fate was sealed.
Because Bischofite gave him an order, and Vespa… could not disobey. Bischofite had ordered him to drain the trapped girl’s energy and he could not think to disobey for long. He had raised his objections, but what good did they do? Nothing. They did absolutely nothing. For every word he used to try and change the situation, Bischofite countered, tearing about his argument and twisting it around, and in the end, Vespa obeyed. He had to obey. He was a senshi of the Negaverse, a criminal who sought to redeem his crimes, crimes he never even remembered committing but certain that whatever hurtful gaze or distrust he felt from the officers of the Dark Kingdom were deserved. In the grand scheme of things, he was nothing more than a grunt. A soldier whose only duty was to obey whatever order he was given. When the Negaverse was sought to be a hive, what was Vespa, if not a mindless soldier? Bischofite was not the queen and never could be by his own right, but he was his superior in every way. Even when he outranked him, Bischofite was an officer of the Negaverse, the favored, the honored, and even if Bischofite claimed himself to be undesirable to the Negaverse’s way, he still outweighed the thoughts, opinions and worth of a single sailor soldier. And one that had suffered more failures than should have been allowed, then that put Vespa at the very bottom of the barrel…
He was a soldier. He was not meant to think, apparently. When he tried to think, things became complicated. Things became terrifying. Vespa didn’t understand the things that went on in front of him, why the Negaverse worked as it did, and he was certain that he could not understand what went on in the Rift, what went on behind closed doors. The single wasp in the hive did not know or understand the inner workings of the hive mind- he lacked the capacity to understand why he defended the hive, why his life was considered insignificant or why he sacrificed himself so that a single entity, the one, the Queen, must live. He did not understand why he would lash out at another, or who or what the enemy was, only understanding that he was expected to strike it down or sacrifice his life to do so. Wasps did not die after a single sting, not like their bee brethren, but a wasp was still expected to strike again and again until either he or the enemy fell. A wasp didn’t know why it would fly from insect to insect, paralyzing with its sting nor why it laid its eggs within the host- he didn’t comprehend what it would cost the other so that its lineage, only that it had to be done. Everything the wasp did, how it lived, how it functioned, was not by thought or really its own control, but because something told it to do that. Be it instincts, or the queen wasp, they were given an order, and the wasp never thought.
The wasp merely obeyed.
Bischofite gave the order to consume the starseed, and Vespa, the Negaverse senshi of Wasps, merely obeyed. It did not matter that he had just witnessed Bischofite stab the barely conscious man multiple times in the face. It didn’t matter that his blood, mingled with Bischofite’s, stained his face. It did not matter that he was order to take the starseed from him and that by taking the man’s life that he had spared him from suffering anymore at Bischofite’s hands. It didn’t matter that he cut his own hands with the starseed or that he had no strength to even sit up right now. It only mattered… that he obeyed. All that mattered, all that ultimately would matter for Vespa, was obeying a command, and like the wasp that he claimed to have dominion over, he obeyed.
He wasn’t sure what he was expecting whenever he finally pressed his teeth down on the starseed. He was never told what the effects of eating a starseed would be or how they might have tasted, only that it was not recommended outside of extreme emergencies. He wondered, for a brief moment, how it would taste, but something in his head silenced the thought.
Do not think. Do not guess. Only obey. Only bite down and chew, then swallow. That was all he was ordered to do. Thinking would only make the pain in his heart worse, would only make the sensation in his gut worse. He could not think of how he was eating a soul, only had to bite down and chew. Bite down. And chew.
It broke with much more ease than Vespa would have ever expected a starseed would, and despite how easy it would have been to shut off his mind and simply act, his brain refused to be silence. The jaw was the one of the more powerful muscles in the human body yet the starseed, the very essence of a man, woman or child, snapped in half so easily? How could the starseed contain something so valuable, so precious and sacred, yet crush so easily like poorly constructed candy? How could it possibly think to withstand the power of Chaos that was bestowed upon them when they were so fragile and brittle? If they were so easily destroyed, why did the Negaverse see fit to have their senshi’s starseeds so readily exposed? Was it to keep them in line? Was it to remind them of just how fragile their very existence was and that they chose to spare them every single time they powered up?
It made no sense.
But it did not need to make sense, he told himself, pressing down his jaws again until it was completely crushed within his teeth. None of this had to make sense, because it was not important. All he had to do was chew and swallow, but it seemed that the starseed’s kick would do its very best to make the Wasp senshi work for his relatively simple task. When enough of the tasteless outer shell had shattered, something hit Vespa’s tongue and its effects were immediately. Something potent. Something strong. Something soft, and liquid, yet it was nothing like sweet nectar or even the density of nougat, but the consistency of mercury, and probably the taste of it too. It was horrible. It threatened to come out of Vespa’s mouth and he could feel his stomach wanting to gag and spit it out before it even had the chance to make it down his throat, but Vespa slammed his bloody hands over his mouth and nose, for once grateful that Bischofite had removed the visor as it made cupping the two orifices all the easier. Was that the soul? The spirit of the old man they had murdered seeking revenge against his killers? It felt horrible, and it felt as though every ounce of his being was fighting the liquid that invaded his mouth, but he fought it down. He struggled with all his might to get it down, throwing his body up and throwing his head back, tilting it back as far as he could so that he could funnel it through. He wanted so desperately to spit it out, but he wasn’t ordered to spit it out. He was ordered to preserve the soul by consuming it and allowing the man’s sacrifice to fuel him. Spitting it out or vomiting it back out would be seen as disobey an order, would be seen as dishonoring the man that had no choice but to surrender his life to the Negaverse. Vespa would not disobey. Vespa would not dishonor the man’s memory.
With much effort, he swallowed. He could feel it, trickling down his throat, like glass and mercury, tumbling around each other and making sure that he felt absolutely every single moment of its journey down into his gut, and only when it hit his stomach did he remove his hands from his mouth and nose. He let out a pained gasp, though in his own ears it sounded more like a cry, and thankfully, the liquid that escaped his eyes wasn’t bits of the soul trying to escape its stomachy prison. No, the only thing that came out of Vespa’s eyes were tears, and tried as he might, he could not stop them. All he could do was try and hide them from Bischofite, though he was certain that the lieutenant could see them glisten in the lamp light, even as he threw himself forward and all but hid his head in shame at Bischofite’s feet. No, he was certain that his tears would still be obvious, even as he buried his head in his arms, as he was certain that the way his shoulders trembled and heaved and his chest constricted was a clear sign to Bischofite and others that he was sobbing. Well, besides the sobs that were clearly heard coming out of his mouth right now. That was the best indicator that the Wasp senshi, as hard as he could possibly try, could not shut down his mind nor heart of what he had just done, what he had just been ordered to do and carried out without question.
What Vespa was expecting after he obeyed and devoured the starseed? In truth, he had absolutely no idea what to expect from this act, either the physical reaction that his body would have, nor the emotional or mental changes that were to come. At first he did not think about it, as any attempt he had to think was countered with the desire to simply obey without thought. Thinking only complicated the matter and it hurt. It hurt to think. So he thought. So he didn’t think, and now, he was immediately regretting this decision because now he was left clueless, in the dark, completely and utterly unprepared for whatever was to come, and for Vespa, while that was nothing new to him, it was still an unwelcoming sensation.
Not so unwelcoming, however, was the sudden sensation that began to rack his body, as though he had much trouble getting the starseed down into his gut in the first place, once it was there, the sensation he felt was… euphoric. Vespa wasn’t sure what to make of the feeling, the rush of energy, the rising, tingling sensation that began to give him goosebumps. He wanted to ask Bischofite what was going on, but there were no words that his mouth could form now. Soon, his racking sobs began to cease, calming down considerably until they were completely gone, and for a brief moment, a very brief moment, Vespa was able to get out a few words. Or, maybe just a few syllables, not even really coherent words, but at least it was something.
“Lieu… nant… what… feeling…”
Admittedly, and unashamedly so, Vespa was what others called a ‘good boy’. He never tried drugs or drank alcohol and even when it was offered to him he would vehemently refuse the offer and take flight in the completely opposite direction, even at the cost of his dignity and pride. He was a DARE student, through and through, and he had made a promise to his family and to himself that he would be clean. He would never try it. Never.
And yet, what he was feeling… could only be compared to those drugs, could it not?
It had to be. It had to be that. Because Vespa never felt this way in his life. Never. Never did he feel so good. Never did he feel so alive, so bursting with energy. Even when General Queen Laurelite granted him the dark gift and awakened him as a senshi did he ever feel this strong, feel this alive. Vespa tried to keep it contained, as if allowing Bischofite to see what kind of effect it was having on his body was just as bad as disobeying the order, trying so hard to not let him see how much his body was enjoying this.
What he did was wrong. What he did was terrible. He shouldn’t have been enjoying this. He had no right to enjoy this! No person in their right mind would find the act of eating another person’s soul to be enjoyable, in any way, shape or form. Even the worst of psychopaths would have felt some kind of repulsion from such an act, at least Vespa told himself, yet he could not deny the sweet, blissful feeling his felt forming in his chest and spreadings throughout his entire body. Every limb, every bone, every muscle- they felt it in full force. No one could be enjoying a sensation like this after committing an act so horrible… only a monster would enjoy this.
Despite the euphoric sensation that threatened to overwhelm his senses, that was the one, single thought that grounded the Wasp senshi and kept him from wanting to fly away right now. His mind may have been telling him that he should not have found pleasure in this, but his body… could not deny it. His body enjoyed it. His body welcomed it. And while he was not the most intelligent of human beings nor anywhere near the top of his class, even with his extensive knowledge of insects and b-horror movies and rigorous study habits, he knew that the body could only obey the brain. It was never what was wrong with the body, but what was wrong with the brain that affected the body and how it worked. The body could not trick the brain- the brain could trick the body but it was never the way around. So, the fact that his body was enjoying this meant that… so was his brain. So was he. Vespa could not deny the truth he felt right now, and that truth was… he was enjoying it.
Only a monster would enjoy this, he told himself, even as he could feel a laugh starting to form in the bottom of his chest and threaten to rise up through his mouth. Only a monster would want to experience such a wonderful, beautiful, glorious feeling after committing such a heinous crime. Only a monster would have pushed himself up and sought out another victim, all to get another taste of that sweet, life giving nectar that was contained in such a small, fragile little casing. Only a monster would look up to Bischofite and beg for another. Only a monster would look forward to the next encounter, or think of how much tastier a treat the starseed of a senshi or knight taste when placed on his palette, or how much more strength he would get by consuming one of them. How could a Negaverse officer’s taste? How would a Dark Mirror Senshi’s starseed? Their conversion was different, so would it have its own unique flavor or would it blend too well with a Negaverse officers? What of the cats, or the chibi senshi? Would their taste any different? Sweeter? Sour? Did guardian cats possess a starseed at all?
Only a monster would be having these thoughts. And yet, the thoughts were there, right there, swimming around the bony confines of his skull, racking his brain and refusing to be silenced. They could not be silenced. Only a monster would allow such thoughts to go unchecked, and by everything he just deducted, Vespa had to consider the very real possibility that he was a monster… because he did find himself enjoying this feeling. He did find himself consumed with delight from devouring the man’s starseed. He could not deny it. He could not refuse it. The facts were there.
He wasn’t just a murderer. He wasn’t just a parasite, nor a grunt or soldier in the hive that was called the Negaverse. He was a monster. He was a monster in the guise of a senshi, and that… hurt. His stomach hurt. Moments ago he was laughing, despite himself and the horror he felt, but now he was screaming. He was screaming, louder than he ever screamed when he became the victim of his own attacks. He was screaming louder than he ever screamed when Laurelite plunged her hand deep into his chest and pumped his starseed full of the dark gift. He was screaming, loudly, and it hurt…
Something churned within his stomach, and there came a sudden rush. A physical rush, the sensation of something wanting to come out. He felt it jump into his upper stomach, push through his esophagus and like a raging river of lava, it came spewing out of his mouth, decorating the glass stained ground beneath him. He didn’t need to look at it to know what it was that he threw up, and he didn’t want to look at it. He couldn’t look at it. A monster would lap it back up, if only to feel that wondrous sensation consume him again, and the fact that Vespa was even considering it… terrified him.
He wasn’t sure how he had the strength in him, but he pushed himself to his feet and fled. He said nothing to Bischofite nor did he even look to see if he was still there. He could have left for all he knew, but not once did he slow down, not once did he look back. He ran. It was all Vespa could think to do…
“Not… monster… not a monster… I… don’t want to be a monster…”
((Word Count: 3070))
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