Chapter Text
It started with an itch. A tug at Nugget’s skin that made Nugget want to scratch it open.
It started with the goo. Slick down Nugget’s throat, coating every inch of Nugget’s insides.
It started with a pressure. One that made Nugget look down at Nugget’s scratched raw red skin with confusion.
There was something moving beneath Nugget’s skin.
Nugget watched with a morbid fascination as it squirmed and bubbled. It was painful, itchy, and tight. Like a bug crawling around just underneath, little legs brushing across each muscle like a fluffy, scratchy needle. Nugget’s eyes trailed the movement as Nugget’s skin bulged, skin discolouring as whatever was happening scraped and oozed beneath the surface.
The pain only grew worse. Burning, melting clawing. Nugget tried to call for help, right before it popped. Skin and blood and goo splattered across the walls as pure relief flooded Nugget’s system. What was left behind was hard, orangish skin. A few of Nugget’s classmates cringed back at the smell. Acrid. Sweet. Rotten. Brushing Nugget’s hand against the new arm revealed a wet, sticky texture, with something kind of rough beneath the tacky, foul-smelling glue. It was a claw.
Nugget should be horrified by the change. By the sharp, chitinous nails that replaced Nugget’s hands. But it didn’t hurt anymore. In fact, there was a distinct absence of sensation. So, instead, Nugget found himself focussing on something far more important.
The sick, all-consuming hunger that was quickly flooding Nugget’s eyes with a sickly green. Saliva filled Nugget’s mouth as Nugget realised Nugget needed more. Nugget needed to let more of it in. Nugget could already feel the goo he’d consumed earlier drying up. Cracking with every movement Nugget made.
Luckily, Nugget's friend secured a glob for Nugget, which Nugget tore into like a starving beast would the rotting carcass of a deer in winter. It squirmed its way down Nugget’s throat like the maggot-infested meat of one would. Bursting and coating Nugget’s mouth and teeth in thick, tacky goo with every frantic bite until it was gone. Nugget was not satiated, but it was enough to at least dampen the hunger in the moment.
But that was not the end of Nugget’s change. Not in the slightest. Nugget’s remaining arm started to itch. Then, much faster than before, Nugget’s skin started to bloat and stretch like a bug-infested corpse floating across a river. All that was missing was the buzzing of flies, but Nugget did not doubt that they would come. Perhaps they were growing beneath Nugget’s skin, in their eggs, waiting to burst out and gorge themselves on the skin and meat leftover from Nugget’s transformation.
Nugget once again followed the movement as the pain and discomfort grew and grew and grew and grew until Nugget popped. Green and red splattered off as relief was quickly followed by the hunger. Nugget needed. More. So, once again, Nugget’s friend secured Nugget more goo.
Nugget’s insides crunched with every movement, but that did not stop Nugget from feasting. Nothing could stop Nugget from feasting. Tearing into Nugget’s meal, simultaneously more satiating than any meal and not enough for Nugget’s aching stomach. Nugget’s throat was smaller, from coating after coating of dried goo, forcing the new layer to scratch and claw its way down.
Once outside, Nugget found Nugget could not watch the squirming, pulsing, bloating of Nugget’s skin. For it had moved beneath Nugget’s skull, coating Nugget’s brain as beautiful things buried inside. Nugget felt each movement like a heartbeat.
The others must have noticed too, because they were staring. Very rude. But maybe they were just in awe of Nugget’s transformation. Maybe they were waiting as eagerly as Nugget was for the pain and pressure and itching to cease with a sickening pop. Splatter.
A part of Nugget knew instantly that this was the last of it. That Nugget was complete. Wet and perfect in Nugget’s rebirth.
Nugget’s eyes bulged, large and leaking and unblinking. Nugget was sure, if not for the numbness, it would feel like they were seconds away from popping out and rolling away. His entire head was distended, bloated, yet behind the sticky wet liquid was flesh more solid than rock. None of the give that came with the flesh and meat of Nugget’s previous form.
The staring turned to retching as what Nugget had become hit the others. Nugget would have questioned it, if not for the screaming cacophony of buzzing that descended upon Nugget.
And there they were. The flies couldn’t resist the sickly sweet smell of rot that emanated off of Nugget. They buzzed about before landing on Nugget’s new skin. The wet coating of Nugget’s skin trapped them like a mouse in a glue trap, giving them no choice but to feast and feast, letting gluttony overwhelm them as they tried to bury into Nugget. They would not get that far before the goo took them too.
Much like the flies, Nugget was a beast of gluttony. Nugget’s new, superior eyes fell upon the feast before Nugget. Delicious, waiting meat. Perfect, crunchy bones. Nugget found that Nugget’s mouth cracked and split as Nugget opened it, new teeth ready to be used. Red and green dripping down like drool, pooling wherever Nugget lingered for even a second too long.
Nugget was no stranger to violence. Was no stranger to inflicting death upon Nugget’s dear classmates. But never before had it been quite so delicious. Finally, tearing bones out of sockets, ripping tender muscle and sinew apart, Nugget’s stomach was satisfied. Blood like wine, meat soft and tender, bones like the most perfect dessert. Each organ had its own taste, its own texture. And Nugget gorged himself. Like the flies, Nugget got Nugget’s fill.
It wasn’t an easy task, throat filled with dried glue, claws great for the kill but useless for picking up his meals. But for the sake of a good meal, Nugget was more than willing to put the effort in.