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Irratinos stomach churned and revolted, demanding for sustenance. As much as he liked to imagine linguine and salads filled him up, they didn’t. He was a bottomless hole of hunger when it came to… certain foods. His body wanted for more. His instincts wanted for more. His undead nature wanted for more.
Perhaps this was more than a curse. Death looming but never approaching, taunting the inspector as another wretched craving slipped into his mind. Victim after victim, unable to think about animals. How cruel, a once-vegan cursed to be a flesh eater for eternity? He couldn’t help but want to pull the covers up more and hide, but the call of flesh prevailed.
Despite what Irratino believed at first, the stereotypes were not true. Human brains weren’t the only thing he could eat at this point. While Return of the Living Dead did have some truth, most of it was glorified gore and naked women.
Slowly he managed to drag himself up, cursing softly to Him, or Her, or whatever divine being watched and read his every move with fascination. At least the movies were true about being dead causing pain.
Walking to one of the kitchens nearby, Irrationo stopped to look at the fridge. A few reminders on reminders on reminders, don’t forget you have Nights palm reading, yada yada. He was more interested in the photographs. Logico and him on an island, the set of the murdle movies, ah! The hedge maze with the institute.The Inspector couldn’t help but smile, almost forgetting why he came down here.
Almost doesn’t mean entirely! Excruciating pain and endless hunger called, and he was answering. Irratino pulled out a steak from the fridge, hypothetically salivating if it weren’t for the fact that his body didn’t secrete anything anymore. He sliced the packaging open and stared at the raw flesh, silently putting his hands together.
“I’m… so sorry, my dear. I don’t intend to enjoy this, but I need to survive. May Helios strike me down if I touch his sacred beef without a pure and dire need to survive.”
And with that, Irratino began to feast.
No, no. Feast is to…humane of a word. Irratino wasn’t human anymore. He devoured the meat, ripping the fat from the flesh, turning animal into food as a predator. The grain of meat tore from itself under the inspector's jaw as easily as biting a nail.
A nail would taste better.
A nail would taste human..
Humans would satiate the endless hunger for much longer, Irratino thought. But it was late, and the only person who would come over was..
No. He wouldn’t, not the deductive. He wouldn’t touch another human, not like this. So..carnal. Monstrous. Undead. Instinctive. Destructive. Undead. He wouldn’t rend another person to meat, ligament, and bone. Animals would suffice fine. He could bare the scent of blood, not the look of it on his hands. He was not a murderer, or a monster. He was back in bed, actually. When did that happen? When did his hunger disappear? With the steak. With meat.
Zombies lived on borrowed time, meat and life from other beings. How ironic. A repeatedly dying inspector, having to live off murder. He wrapped his arms around his midsection, satisfied with the animal.
For now, at least.
“You look..unwell.”
Another one solved by the great deductive, it seemed. The two were out at dinner and Irratino stared down at his food. He snapped up at the words. When had he gotten here? Everything seemed to blur together as he tried not to think about ‘eating’ in front of the deductive.
“I’m alright, starlight, just in my own head.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to be anywhere else.”
Irratino smiled as he felt a soft kiss to his hand, Logicos warmth seeping into him. He felt a churn deep in his stomach, making him only appreciate the time even more. He was getting *public* affection from *the* great deductive? Oh my, perhaps he’ll need a fainting couch? Some lavender oils to stop himself from collapsing at the honor?
Logico smiled as he broke from Irrationo's hand “you’re thinking again. There’s that glazed look in your eyes coming back.”
Irratino focused on the present as best he could. Logico seemed done and he hadn’t touched his..pasta? Fuck, why did he order pasta? He knew what would happen.
“Are you alright, Irratino? It seems that ‘in your own head’ thing has been getting worse..”
“Yes! I’m quite alright.”
“You haven’t eaten in front of me in 3 weeks. In front of anybody for that matter.” Logicos worried look slipped passed his lines and checks. His partner was deteriorating. Irratino looked back at Logico with a smile.
“I just haven’t felt very hungry at my regular times, that’s all!”
Logicos eyebrows furrowed “Could be signs of physical body changes, disease, emotional damage-“
“Or perhaps I’m joining the stars.”
“Just..a bite.”
Irratino saw the worry in his lover's eyes and sighed. He knew Logico was trying to reason his way into figuring out what was wrong. But Zombification was so low on that list, if at all.
For appeasement's sake, Irratino bit. It was dry going down, and drier coming back up. ‘Appeasement's sake’ landed Irratino on bathroom tile holding his hair up. Date over, now hunched over, Irratino was pushing up vegetable pasta.
Not like there was much of a taste. Not even a burn. Just a growing sinking feeling before it all came up. His body rejected anything that wasn’t flesh. Pasta, veggies, sauce, everything. Irratino sat back against the bathtub and flushed the toilet, chewed remnants of food swirling down the drain.
What was he going to do? The only food that stayed down was flesh and he wasn’t going to eat that forever, was he?
Sighing, Irratino allowed himself to slump down on the bathroom tile. He stared at the wall, not feeling enough energy to push over and look at the ceiling.
The only thing he felt was hunger.