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Red moonlight filters through the cracks in the walls, and Apo squeezes her eyes shut against the crimson, wrapping her arms even tighter around her stomach. There's a prick of claws on her sides as her fingers curl in, and there's a horrible, quiet thought in the back of her mind to rip open her stomach just to cut out this all-consuming hunger. Even the harshness of the stone floor can't distract her mind from it— it evades her every thought, gruesome fantasies playing on repeat as she desperately tries to thinking about anything else.
She still needs to finish the tower. She's been neglecting the work, too caught up in everything to find time to search for materials, and with everyone so high-strung, what if they begin to suspect her? A whine slips out between her teeth as she curls on herself, her stomach lurching. She can't let them find out, she can't. Not after Avid's display. Not after Shelby refused to come home. Apo chokes in an unnecessary breath. Even if there was a chance Apo would be accepted, they've surely ruined that. They were given so many chances to admit the truth, to confess what they've been twisted into— but they didn't. What will the others think, if they knew? Ren, Martyn, M— they'd all be furious.
If they found out, they'd—
Apo quickly cuts off that line of thought. This isn't helping. None of this is helping. She needs to— to do something. Anything. She needs to—
She needs to eat. Pain cuts across her abdomen, and Apo wrenches her hands away. She stares at her claws, slick with blood. It glitters beneath the moonlight, and her stomach roars. A quiet, hesitant thought blooms in the back of her mind. Maybe… maybe she could—
Apo throws herself back, as if she can run away from her own hands, her own claws. No, no, what is she thinking? She'd only starve quicker if she tried to— to— she shakes her head, trying to rid the thought from her mind. They need to get it together. They aren't accomplishing anything like this, curled up pathetically on the floor. They've made it this far on nothing but scraps. They just— they just need to go kill a couple cows. It's fine. It's fine.
They just need the cows. Nothing more. Just the cows.
Apo pulls themself up on trembling legs, bracing themself on the wall. Just kill a cow, they think, over and over. They don't think about anything else as they shuffle down the tower steps. They don't think about the way the beacon's light burns against their skin, they don't think about how each step takes every scrap of energy they have, they don't think about their hunger urging them to something more, something better— none of it matters. They just need—
"Apo?"
Apo whips around. Legundo stares back at her, his expression unreadable.
"Are you alright?" He asks, his voice deceptively steady. Apo can hear how his pace quickens. His heart pounds endlessly against his ribs, like a rabbit caught in a trap. It draws Apo in like a siren's call.
Skin tears as Apo curls her hand into a fist. She digs her claws in as deep as she can manage, the pain keeping her grounded. This is the middle of town, she reminds herself. Keep it together.
"Just— getting something to eat." She forces out.
"You look like you can barely stand." Legundo steps forward, his hands lifting slightly, like he's trying to keep a cornered animal calm. Apo bites her tongue.
"I'm fine." She hisses. She can't get herself to move away. Legundo's pulse sings in her ears, inviting her closer, tempting her. Her fangs ache, her stomach roars.
"The livestock are low right now. I have food at my house." Legundo carefully pulls something from his pocket— paper is wrapped around it, but Apo knows what it holds. She can smell it. Food.
She's moving before she even register it, her focus narrowing in onto the package. The edges of the paper are dark, soaked through with crimson. It stains Legundo's palm, his heart racing all the while. She doesn't even notice she's being led towards his house until she freezes just before the doorway, a sudden force gripping her limbs.
Apo blinks, finally tearing her gaze away from the meat. Did— did Legundo just lure her here? Like some kind of— animal? She bristles with indignation and shame, and words bubble up in her throat—
"I know, I know. Just come inside, please? I can help you. I have more." Legundo pleads, beckoning with the meat.
—and all of it falls away as she catches the scent of blood. The restrictions lift and she lunges through the doorway without a second thought. Her fangs sink into flesh, and blood floods her mouth. It's warm and alive, pouring down her throat as she drinks greedily, holding the source firmly in place. The world around her is forgotten to her hunger— she can't stop, she will never go hungry again— all that matters now is the iron coating her tongue and throat. Her fangs dig deeper, desperately, trying to catch every single drop that threatens to spill, until—
Garlic touches her tongue, and Apo rips herself away. The garlic doesn't follow, but the taste lingers, burning in her mouth. A hiss rattles in her throat as her vision refocuses on the culprit, fangs bared and ready to strike—
Legundo scoots back from her, holding his hand to his chest with a wince. A garlic glove lies at his side, and the warmth from Apo's meal vanishes as horror floods her veins.
No, no, she— she— Her back hits a wall, her hand presses to her mouth. Blood smears at the edges of it, still warm. Power pulses through her, stronger than anything she's ever known. The weakness of her hunger is gone, though it claws at her mind still. Apo feels sick.
"Apo. Apo, can you hear me?" Legundo's voice filters through Apo's spinning mind, and she opens her eyes— when did she close them?— to see the doctor only a few inches away. She blanches.
"Get- get away from me." She chokes out from behind her hand, forcing her gaze away. Legundo's pulse taunts her, singing of panic, of fear. He's terrified.
"You're not going to hurt me." Legundo speaks so confidently, but Apo knows he's lying. She can hear it. Every quick, fluttering beat locked behind his ribcage. Apo shakes her head mutely, keeping her hand firmly clamped over her mouth. "Apo, please. I want to explain."
"I- I—" She can't force out the words. Nausea rises quick in her throat, her stomach threatening to upheave her meal. A small part of her, the part she desperately tries to ignore, shrieks at the prospect. Apo is almost tempted to let the nausea win over, just out of spite.
"You need to breathe, Apo."
Apo can't help it— a quiet, almost hysterical giggle slips from her lips. She shakes her head again, curling in on herself slightly.
"I— I'm dead, doc. I don't—" Another strained laugh. "I don't need to breathe."
"Ah." Legundo pauses. "Right. Still— you're panicking."
"And y-you aren't?" Apo hisses. Legundo's expression pinches.
"I… Yes, I'm scared." He admits. "But I am not scared of you."
Apo's breath stutters in frozen lungs. She nearly laughs again. He can't seriously think she's that stupid.
"Apo, I let you drink from me."
The world— stops. Apo's thoughts come to a screeching halt, and she chokes slightly on her next unneeded breath. What? What? What?
"What?" She says out loud, just for good measure. Legundo sighs a heavy breath, shifting to adjust the cloth pressed to his wrist. Apo tries not to focus on the muffled scent of iron beneath it.
"You've been starving yourself." Legundo says, blunt and straight to the point. There's an attempt at gentleness, but pain hardens the edges of his words. "I wanted to help. I thought, if I could get you to drink from me—"
"You— you—" Apo stammers, her words catching in her throat.
Humiliation burns in her cheeks, her stomach twisting as shame curdles in her gut like spoiled milk. The nausea returns full force, slamming into her and it takes all her self control not to vomit right then and there. As much as she wants to scrub her tongue until the lingering taste of blood is torn away, Apo really, really, does not what to risk going back to that all-consuming hunger. She grits her teeth, trying to reign in the nausea.
She wants to— she doesn't even know. Scream, maybe. What was Legundo thinking? All of that effort Apo put into keeping their fangs away from people and he just— throws it all away! He didn't even ask them. He lured her here, tricked her into biting him, and she— she fell for it.
"What is wrong with you?" She snaps, her voice sharp and high with frustration. Legundo leans back, his eyes going wide.
"Excuse me?"
"You lied to me, you— Oh, god, I bit you! You didn't even ask, and I didn't—" Apo presses her palms to her eyes, her fingers digging into her hair as it falls over her face. "Why did you do that? Why didn't I stop myself?"
"I wasn't in any danger." Legundo tries, a little weakly. "I had plenty of ways to stop you."
"You still— you didn't ask." Apo hisses.
"I…" Legundo trails off, glancing away. He steadies his breath, his pulse slows. "I didn't. I apologize."
Apo curls forward until her knees are tucked against her chest, her face buried in her hands. Her skin crawls, her stomach writhes. She hates this. She hates how easy Legundo lured her here, how quick she gave into the hunger— she hates how she wasn't even given a choice before her fangs sunk in. It burns in her chest, the flames licking her ribcage, scorching the bone black. It creeps up her throat, sharp and furious— and dies before it ever reaches her tongue. Like a candle snuffed out, the anger fizzles away, and the frigid nothingness sweeps back in. Apo trembles.
"Apo…" Fabric rustles as the doctor shifts, and Apo can practically feel the warmth radiating from him as he moves closer. "Can we talk? I am worried."
She doesn't reply— it's too exhausting to hold onto that anger, but the sting remains, like an open wound against her skin. She doesn't want to talk. She doesn't want this. Any of this.
But, Legundo apparently takes her silence as an invitation, and speaks once again.
"…I want to help you, as I've said many times. I admit I should have… spoken with you before making any decisions, and that truly is my mistake. But you shouldn't be starving yourself like this." He says, voice firm. Apo bristles at the tone.
"I know what I'm doing." Apo mutters. She's shifted so her arms are folded over her knees, her face still tucked away and hidden.
"You were barely lucid when I saw you." Legundo shoots back. He sounds so disappointed.
"I-" Apo makes a noise of frustration, lifting her head to glare at Legundo. "I can take care of myself."
"There's nothing wrong with needing help. Please, Apo." Legundo stares. His gaze burrows beneath Apo's skin, extending past her muscles and bone, to the very core of her being. He sees the rot, the death that clings to her. There is only a cold determination in his eyes. "I want to help."
She can't. She can't. The weight of Legundo's words press down on her, an unbearable weight, and Apo wants nothing more than to force him to look away, to stop seeing her, stop seeing the horrible, monsterous thing she's become. Her claws twitch. In an instant, she's on her feet.
"I'm leaving." Apo says, their voice clipped. They don't give Legundo a chance to respond before they're already out the door.
It's nearly sunrise by the time they make it back to the tower. The beacon pulses, the buzz of magic cutting through Apo's veins. The back of their head screams, urging them to snuff out this horrible magic or flee from it's influence— but Apo simply walks forward, letting it burn against their skin.
She prefers it far more than the clawing in her stomach.