Work Text:
Philip was running for his life again, which was nothing new, but that never made it any easier. He rounded a corner, but he could still hear the infected close behind. The halls had begun to blend together as each turn felt as if it were leading him in circles, all the maps and signs becoming nothing but blurs in his periphery as he quickly dashed past them. All the while, despite the sound of his heart pounding in his ears, Philip could clearly hear Clarence snickering at his frantic plight.
Another corner, and Philip was finally graced with the sight of a pair of those large metal doors. Praying silently that they were unlocked he made a mad dash for them, arms outstretched as he closed the gap. They opened, and he practically threw himself inside, shutting the doors behind him. He leaned against them for a few moments taking deep and deliberate breaths. Only when it felt like his head might stop spinning did he look up at the sign that told him where he was.
“Canteen” it said.
Wait, hadn’t the doors to this room been locked?
“I don’t know. Maybe they were, maybe they weren’t,” the voice in his head chimed, the seemingly ever present smugness oozing into every crack in Philip’s mind.
Philip sighed and slowly turned away from the doors, pulling out his flashlight. With his luck, Clarence probably knew there were more of his “brothers” in this room waiting for him.
“Maybe I’m just hungry. You ever thought of that? I bet you’ve worked up quite the appetite too, what with all this “running from imminent death” business,” Clarence said. As if on queue, Philip’s stomach rumbled. It made him jump, and he quickly shined the flashlight around the room, listening for anyone or anything that may have heard him. Clarence laughed hysterically all the while.
“Aw, you really are a starving little monkey! Come on, maybe we can find some of those Archaic brand cyanide capsules to munch on.”
After a few more moments Philip felt comfortable enough to traverse further into the room. It was similar to the mess hall he’d been in earlier, only much larger. The area reminded him of a high school cafeteria, the room seeming to stretch on infinitely into the darkness. He eventually reached the other end of the canteen, which held the counter where food was given out, and then behind that was the kitchen.
His stomach growled again. He placed a hand over it to try and quell the noise. When was the last time he’d eaten anything? Had he ever had any of that beef jerky, or did he really use it all up on those demented dogs? Regardless, he couldn’t be running around on an empty stomach anymore, especially if it was going to cause him to get his guts ripped out.
He made his way into the kitchen, and was met with the foul smell of rotten food and charred meat. He stopped and panned his flashlight around the room. Busted cans and various food items laid scattered across the floor. Cabinets were thrown open and some even had their doors ripped off. It looked as if someone had gone on a rampage. Then his light fell on the source of the burnt smell, and he felt the overwhelming urge to vomit, though he had nothing substantial to offer up.
The body of a person was lying on the opened door to the oven. What was left of their face was turned towards Philip. The skin had been horribly blackened, the lips and nose having been burned away completely. The person’s eyes had boiled and burst, leaving behind two empty holes.
“There ya go! Bon appétit monkey,” Clarence quipped.
Philip turned around and quickly made his way out of the kitchen.
“Where ya going? Aren't cha still hungry?”
Philip was going to snap back at the virus for once, but his stomach interrupted him before the words had a chance to leave his mouth.
“Hey, don’t yell at me ‘cause you’re a picky eater!”
Philip slid down against the food counter and sat on the floor. He felt sick. His stomach was empty and currently trying to eat itself, and he couldn’t get the image of that person out of his head. He needed to eat something, but now the thought of doing so made him want to choke.
Philip’s flashlight rolled away from him slightly as it slipped from his grasp, causing the light to shine underneath one of the canteen tables. He looked to where the beam was pointing and saw that it landed on what looked like a toppled cereal box. He picked up his light and crawled over to the table, reaching under and snagging the box.
Holding it to the light the box read “Tasty Flakes” in simple white lettering. Philip was immediately filled with a sense of nostalgia, the taste of cardboard coming to mind, and his mother gently chiding him for the copious amounts of sugar he’d pour into his bowl to hide the off-brand cereals less than desirable taste.
He’d come across various boxes of the stuff in the mess hall, where he had purposefully avoided them so he wouldn’t start to reminisce. But now Philip couldn’t be more grateful to find one here as the thought of his mother pushed the images of that charred body out of his mind, making him feel just a little less sick.
Peering into the box, he saw that the packet inside was miraculously unopened, meaning that the contents might just be edible. He pocketed the flashlight in favor of his glowstick, placing it on the table along with the Tasty Flakes box as he pulled the plastic packet out. He opened it carefully, and was immediately hit with the smell of wheat. But just as he was about to grab a handful and finally get a bite to eat, Philip received an unexpected dinner guest.
“What are you doing?”
The gruff voice of an infected came from somewhere behind him. Philip whipped around just in time to see the grotesque creature exiting the kitchen and brandishing a large knife. The infected raised the blade as it came closer to him, and without thinking Philip flung the packet of cereal right into the monster's face.
The contents of the bag spilled all over the infected, bits of wheat hitting it in the face and pouring down all over the rest of its body. The creature stumbled back, dropping the knife and screaming as it began to claw at its face. It then dropped to its knees, and a crunching sound could be heard as its legs collided with the flakes that had fallen there. This caused an even louder screech to erupt from it, and it fell onto its side and thrashed about in an attempt to get away from the tiny bits of cereal.
Philip stayed where he was, his mind a complete mess as he silently watched the creature’s loud and exaggerated freak out.
“Are you seriously just gonna stand here? Do I have to move your legs for you, or do you want to get sliced up like a roast chicken?”
Clarence's voice helped snap Philip out of his daze. He quickly turned around and vaulted over the table, grabbing his glow stick as he did so. The infected stopped screaming just as Philip reached the large metal doors. The doors slammed shut behind him, and just a few moments later he could hear the creature begin to pound on them. Philip booked it in the opposite direction.
Once he could no longer hear the sound of metal being abused, Philip collapsed onto the floor of a small and empty room he’d come across. It took him a few minutes to regain his composure. Once he did he pushed himself up so that he was in a more respectable sitting position.
Now that he could properly think, a question was nagging at him. He had never addressed the virus directly though, so he was hesitant to ask.
Clarence beat him to the punch.
“I know what you’re thinking and no, I have no idea what just happened.” It was a curt answer, and Philip had the sense that if Clarence had a body, he’d be crossing his arms and looking pointedly away from him. A moment of silence passed before the virus spoke again, and Philip could almost see him shrugging, “Maybe they didn’t like the brand.”
Phillip let it all sink in, the complete and utter absurdity. A hellish monster from the deepest reaches of the Earth had freaked out because he’d thrown some cereal on it.
Philip began to laugh.
It started out quiet and small, but steadily grew into manic and uncontrollable giggles. He covered his mouth in an attempt to stop himself, but he just couldn't. He fell back onto the floor, curling in on himself as he pressed his hands harder against his mouth. A suffocating feeling overtook Philip, but he could still feel his hunger gnawing at him.
