✧ 72 | Raw Meat ✧
Billy never thought he'd take orders from someone thirty years younger than him.
But he did.
He stood before the dead deer. One leg had been chewed off, leaving it with only three. Its body was mangled, its stomach ripped wide open. Thank goodness the weather was freezing. Otherwise, he'd be eating spoiled meat crawling with larvae.
Billy couldn't begin to process the situation until he knelt and touched the deer's cold body. Bile climbed up his throat, but he swallowed it back.
It was going to be hard to stomach this new source of food, but he knew it was necessary to keep Beast in a slumber, to keep the kid safe.
It was time for breakfast.
Billy turned to Ilya. "I can't do this while you're staring at me like that."
Ilya looked like he was holding his breath. His nose scrunched in disgust as he imagined Billy eating the mangled deer. That judgmental stare alone was enough to make Billy hesitate.
Billy sighed. "You're not helping."
Ilya wasn't aware of his own behavior until now. He straightened up with a jolt. His eyes showed remorse and pity for the grown-up who was basically forced into eating raw meat.
"Sorry." Ilya scratched his head. "I'll be in the bathroom... not looking."
To be locked again in a place where a dead human is rotting away, all for some stranger in distress, made Billy happy. For once, someone cared enough to treat him like a human being instead of a monster.
It had been so long since anyone had shown him kindness.
This boy had shown him kindness.
He was too pure for this world.
As soon as Ilya entered the bathroom and shut the door behind him, Billy looked at the deer's lifeless eyes.
It had done nothing wrong.
Yet it had still died because of him.
His gaze lingered on the corpse, but he wasn't seeing the deer anymore. He was seeing every life Beast had taken through his hands. Every innocent soul he had stolen. Billy wished he could get rid of Beast forever.
But until then, he had to keep the monster well fed.
Billy forced himself to begin.
He reached for a strip of flesh clinging to the deer's ribs. He yanked it out with two fingers, gazing at it with disgust. Slowly, he brought it to his mouth. His lips refused to open at first. When they finally did, he pushed the raw meat onto his tongue.
His body revolted.
He bit down and fought the urge to throw up.
The taste flooded his mouth, and he gagged. Every instinct screamed at him to spit it out, but he forced himself to chew and swallow.
Back in the bathroom, Ilya heard the gagging.
His chest tightened. Living with Dissociative Personality Disorder—once called Multiple Personality Disorder—was hard enough. Living with a beast inside you had to be torture.
When the gagging finally stopped, Ilya assumed Billy had finished eating. Enough time had passed for someone his size to finish a meal. Besides, the stench of the rotting corpse was becoming unbearable.
So, Ilya slowly opened the door.
"Billy?" He peeked. "Are you done?"
"You can come out now," Billy's voice came out low, shameful.
Ilya stepped out of the bathroom with careful steps, as if he were approaching an angry animal. All he could see was Billy's back, hunched over the deer's carcass.
Billy turned.
He wasn't angry.
He looked sick.
His hands were drenched in blood. Red stained his lips. His eyes were wide with disbelief, as though he couldn't believe what he'd just forced himself to do.
Billy got up and walked past Ilya, heading to the bathroom to wash the blood off.
Ilya instinctively stepped aside, giving him room. Once Billy disappeared behind the door, his gaze drifted back to the deer's remains. It looked much the same as before, except for the chunk of flesh missing from its ribs.
Then his own stomach growled, stealing his attention. His gaze shifted to the chocolate cake. The same cake Billy promised him. The same one Beast rewarded him with.
He licked his lips, remembering its taste. More than half of it was left. His legs moved on their own towards the trolley with the cake, drawn by hunger and his sweet tooth. He extended a hand but stopped instantly.
No, Ilya told himself. I'll wait for Billy. He deserves this more than I do. He deserves to rinse the taste of raw meat with something sweet.
"Go ahead."
The voice came from behind him.
Ilya turned. Billy stood in the doorway, his face freshly washed and a small smile on his lips.
"You won it fair and square."
Billy looked clean again. Friendly. Almost normal.
Except his eyes kept drifting to the cake.
"Not without you," Ilya replied. "I wanted to share it with you. I can't eat it all by myself anyway."
Billy opened his mouth, but no words came. He chuckled instead and gave a small nod.
The boy's generosity touched him. Even in his dire condition, Ilya still had room to care about him.
Ilya smiled back.
They both cared for each other, but for different reasons. Billy looked at Ilya and remembered someone he had loved. Ilya looked at Billy and remembered the monster sleeping beneath his skin.
One for love. The other for survival.