Chapter 18 #2
He was just about to stand when Mads leaned in and caught his hand.
Lionel startled, blinking as Mads lifted it slowly to his mouth.
His lips brushed over Lionel’s palm, warm and unhurried.
Then his tongue slipped out, deliberate and slow, licking the chip grease from his fingertips.
Lionel froze, eyes going wide. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t breathe right.
His stomach clenched hard with want, heat creeping up his neck like fire.
Each flick of Mads’ tongue was more obscene than the last—not rushed, not teasing, just precise, like he meant it.
When he finally finished, releasing Lionel’s hand as though he hadn’t just made it the most intimate thing in the room, he turned without comment.
“Alright,” Mads said, casual as ever, already walking toward the door.
“Let’s find somewhere with better food.”
Lionel remained where he was for a second too long, staring at his damp fingertips.
Then he stood and followed, heart thudding.
The next unlocked apartment they found was more obviously ransacked, but they still went in just to check if there was anything to salvage. Mads started going through the kitchen and closets as Lionel went to scout out the rest of the place, armed with the gun.
He was just about to call out ‘clear’ to Mads when he heard the soft, scratching sound. Lionel halted in place, listening carefully before slowly turning to the linen closet in the bathroom. It was the only place he hadn’t checked, stupidly believing there couldn’t be anything in there.
Lionel took a slow, measured step forward, every nerve in his body tight with anticipation.
His fingers trembled on the doorknob as he turned it, easing the door open inch by inch, doing his best not to make a sound.
He expected a small utility closet or storage space.
Maybe a dusty broom or a forgotten box of cleaning supplies.
But what he saw stopped him in his tracks.
The room beyond the door was impossibly large, far bigger than the apartment’s layout should have allowed.
The moment the door creaked open, Lionel was hit with a wave of spatial dissonance.
The closet had no right to be this deep.
It felt like stepping into the belly of another building entirely—no, not a building. A cavern.
Soft, sourceless light bathed the interior in a sterile, silvery glow, as if the walls themselves were bleeding light. And the smell—
Lionel gagged, clapping a hand over his mouth and nose as the thick stench of blood hit him like a wall. The air was viscous with it, humid with decay. His stomach lurched, and for a moment, he thought he’d vomit on the threshold.
Inside, the scene defied logic. The space was a grotesque parody of a nest, like something built by an insectoid god in the middle of a nightmare.
The walls pulsed faintly, covered in slick, dark material that might have once been human.
Ribbons of flesh and bone lined the floors, trailing off like discarded wrappers.
At the center of the room was a massive, writhing mass, too large to be a single creature.
Arms sprouted from its torso in the wrong places, legs bent backward, twitching erratically, slick with mucous and gore.
The skin was stretched too thin over protruding organs.
Lungs inflated outside of its chest cavity, a stomach pulsed like a second, wet heart.
Its body shifted constantly, as if it couldn’t decide on a shape.
It was still growing. Feeding. Trails of intestines, random parts of human flesh, skin, and bones were scattered around it like crumbs.
Lionel’s breath hitched. His vision tunneled, heart pounding in his ears. He took one step back. Then another. Leave, his brain screamed. Get out. Shut the door and never look again.
But then he heard it. A gasp, choked and wet, barely louder than a whisper.
Lionel froze. His eyes scanned the room again, more frantically this time, until they locked on a figure slumped against the far wall. At first, he thought it was another body—just one more in a sea of carnage. But then the man moved, trembling, his chest heaving with shallow, panicked breaths.
His left foot was gone—torn off, not cleanly severed—and what remained was wrapped in a ragged tourniquet, stained deep red.
Blood slicked every inch of his skin, hiding the contours of his body and face.
If not for the vivid, almost glowing blue of his eyes, Lionel might never have noticed him at all.
“Help,” the man whispered, voice croaking. “Please, help me.”
Lionel hesitated, eyes flicking back and forth between the man who was crawling toward him and the creature. It hadn’t seemed to have noticed Lionel, and didn’t react when the man spoke. The man was crawling towards him, reaching out even though he was over several yards away.
“It’s asleep,” the man said, voice frantic. “It’s asleep. Please, please save me.”
Lionel could probably run to him and back in time, especially if the thing was asleep. Lionel’s hand raised to the gun he had at his hip, and he gnawed on his lip. He shook his head as he took a step back.
“No!” The man shrieked, pulling himself up as much as he could as he reached out. “Please, don’t leave me!”
Lionel slammed the door hard as he pivoted on his foot. He had no idea what the creature would do if it woke up right then, and he didn’t want to be around to find out.
“What’s going on?” Mads gasped as Lionel ran over to him, grabbed him around the waist, and tugged him out of the apartment. He didn’t stop to explain, panting heavily as he dragged both of them at a sprint back to his apartment.
He only felt slightly safer when the door was shut, locked, and bolted. Lionel breathed heavily, leaning his back against the wall as he closed his eyes. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to get the images of that room out of his brain.
“What happened?” Mads asked again, voice panicked as he reached out to cup Lionel’s face. He turned him each way as though inspecting him for injuries.
“In that apartment, there was this… nest thing. A massive creature was there—there was so much blood.” He wrinkled his nose at the thought of it again.
Mads paused, looking confused at first, and then a line of irritation deepened his features. He glanced at the door behind Lionel, scowling. “A nest? Of a creature?” he echoed.
“It was huge,” Lionel nodded. “Easily three or four times the size of a normal one.”
“Huh,” Mads hummed.
Lionel wanted to ask him why the hell he didn’t look more freaked out, but worked on catching his breath instead as he slowly sank to sitting on the floor. He rubbed a hand over his face as he peered up at Mads. “I just don’t get this place,” he murmured.
“What?” Mads asked, crouching beside him.
“What do they want from us?” Lionel asked.
“Like, they must have eaten the majority of the people here—what’s going to happen after we’re all dead?
” Mads didn’t answer, just shook his head.
“And if they were just here to eat us, then why didn’t they infiltrate everywhere else on earth? Why just this building?”
“Maybe…” Mads trailed off, seeming to consider his words. “Maybe there’s something else—maybe they’re waiting for something.”
“It’s been six days now,” Lionel muttered, shaking his head. “What could they possibly be waiting for?”
Mads frowned. “I wish I could tell you.”
Lionel let out a long, stuttered breath and let Mads help him to his feet. “I guess we can go try to find more food again later,” he muttered. “We’ll just have to make do with what we have and wait it out for a bit.”
Mads smiled as he wrapped his arms around Lionel’s waist, placing his chin on his shoulder. “Yeah, now we have something to do to pass the time, I suppose.”
Lionel looked at him, lips tilting up shakily as he tried to stop the trembling in his hands. He leaned toward Mads, brushing their lips together as his mind begged for a distraction from what it had seen.