Chapter 9: The void inside

Because I'm still *hungry*.

The thought echoes through my mind as I move through the next corridor, my legs carrying me forward, driven by a force I can't control. The taste of the humans' flesh still lingers on my tongue, sweet and rich, better than anything I've consumed so far. But it wasn't enough. It never is.

My body feels stronger, my movements sharper, but the hollow emptiness inside me remains, gnawing at me with relentless fury. I don't understand it. I killed them—tore them apart, devoured their flesh—and yet, there's nothing. No surge of power. No satisfaction.

Just *hunger*.

The silence of the corridor presses in on me, broken only by the soft hum of the machines lining the walls. Their lights blink rhythmically, casting strange shadows that dance along the metallic surface, twisting and warping as I pass. The smell of blood still clings to my skin, mixing with the ever-present stench of rot and decay that fills this place.

I can't stay here. I have to keep moving. There's something more in this labyrinth. There has to be.

As I push deeper into the twisting maze of hallways, my mind races with questions I can't answer. Why didn't the humans give me strength? They tasted so much better than the monsters, so why didn't they fill the void? What is this hunger? Where did it come from? Why does it feel like it's a part of me—like it's been there all along, waiting for me to unleash it?

I can't remember. There's nothing to remember.

No past. No name. No memories.

Just survival. And hunger.

I round another corner, the metal walls closing in around me. My footsteps are light, almost soundless, as I move through the dimly lit corridor. I've learned to move quietly, to avoid drawing attention to myself, but the hunger makes it hard to focus. It clouds my thoughts, twisting them, until all I can think about is the next kill. The next meal.

And then I hear it—a voice. It's faint, barely audible, but it cuts through the silence like a knife. My body tenses, my senses sharpening as I strain to hear.

More humans.

They're close.

My blood quickens, the anticipation building in my chest. The taste of the last humans still lingers on my tongue, and my body craves more. Even if their flesh doesn't give me strength, the hunger demands that I feed. It doesn't care about power—it only wants to be satisfied.

I creep forward, my movements slow and deliberate, hugging the shadows as I approach the source of the voices. They're louder now—two, maybe three of them, talking in hushed tones. I can't understand their words, but the tension in their voices is unmistakable.

Fear.

They're afraid.

I round the corner, and there they are—three humans, standing at the far end of the corridor. They're armed, just like the last ones, their weapons raised, scanning the area. One of them glances over his shoulder, his face hidden behind a visor, his posture rigid with tension.

They haven't seen me yet.

I drop into a crouch, my muscles coiled tight as I watch them, my breath coming in shallow, controlled bursts. My hands clench into fists, the blood still slick on my fingers. The hunger surges inside me, pushing me forward, demanding that I strike. That I *feed*.

But this time, I hesitate.

The last humans... they didn't give me what I wanted. They tasted incredible, but they were just food. And food isn't enough. I need more. I need power. I need something that will fill the emptiness inside me.

I don't know if these humans will be any different.

One of them shifts, his weapon clanking softly against his armor, and my instincts scream at me to attack. To tear into them, to taste their flesh, to *kill*.

I move.

In an instant, I'm on them. The first human doesn't even have time to react. I slam into him with the full force of my body, knocking him to the ground. His weapon clatters away, useless, as I drive my fist into his chest, feeling the bones crack beneath my knuckles.

His scream is cut short as I sink my teeth into his neck, the warm blood spilling into my mouth. The taste is just as sweet as before, melting on my tongue like a delicacy. But there's no time to savor it.

The other two humans shout in alarm, their weapons raised, but I'm already moving. I leap off the first human's body and slam into the second, knocking the gun from his hands. He swings at me with the butt of the weapon, but I dodge it easily, my body moving with unnatural speed.

I grab his arm and twist, the bones snapping with a sickening crunch. He screams, but I silence him with a sharp blow to the side of his head, feeling the skull fracture beneath my fist. His body crumples to the floor, lifeless, and I waste no time tearing into him.

The hunger drives me forward, relentless, as I rip chunks of flesh from his body, the taste sending a wave of satisfaction through me. But it's not enough. It's never enough.

The third human fires, the bullet grazing my arm. The pain barely registers. I turn toward him, my blood-red eyes locking onto his, and I see the fear there—the same fear I've seen in every creature I've killed.

He knows he's going to die.

I lunge at him, knocking the weapon from his hands before driving my fist into his chest. He gasps, the air forced from his lungs, and I grab his throat, squeezing until I feel the life drain from his body.

I bite into his neck, the blood spilling into my mouth, warm and rich. But even as I devour him, there's no surge of power. No rush of energy. Just the same hollow emptiness.

Just the same hunger.

I stand over the bodies, my chest heaving, my hands slick with blood. The taste of their flesh still lingers on my tongue, sweet and satisfying, but it's not enough. It never is.

Why didn't it work?

I killed them. I consumed them. But there's no power. No strength. Just the same gnawing hunger, the same void inside me that refuses to be filled.

Frustration bubbles up inside me, mixing with the hunger, until I can barely think. I drop to my knees beside one of the bodies, ripping open his armor, tearing into the flesh beneath. I bite down, hard, hoping for *something*—anything—but there's nothing. Just food. Just flesh.

I slam my fist into the floor, the metal denting beneath the force of the blow. Anger pulses through me, a hot, burning rage that makes my vision blur. The hunger is driving me mad, pushing me deeper into the darkness, but no matter how much I eat, it's never enough.

Why?

I don't understand. I *need* to understand.

But there are no answers. Just blood and death.

I stand, my legs trembling beneath me, and wipe the blood from my mouth. My breath comes in ragged gasps, my body shaking with the effort of staying upright. I feel stronger, but it's an illusion. The emptiness is still there, gnawing at me, pulling me deeper into the madness.

There has to be more. There has to be something in this place that can fill the void inside me.

Something *beyond* these humans. Something *stronger*.

I step over the bodies, my eyes scanning the corridor ahead. The metallic walls stretch on endlessly, the soft hum of machines filling the silence once more. The air feels heavier now, thick with the stench of blood and death.

I don't know where I'm going. I don't know what I'm looking for.

But I can't stop. I won't stop.

Because I'm still *hungry*.