Hunger.
The driving force of life.
It is the reason plant-eaters graze.
It is the reason meat-eaters hunt.
As with all other living things, the hunger drives the beast to feed.
These dark confines -- what they call a classroom -- were too barren. There was nary a scent of a living creature, save for a small stench coming from the underside of the teacher’s desk.
It attempted to scuttle, but the beast was faster. He snatched the critter: a humble cockroach.
Large or small, the beast did not care. The prey still tastes of life, and any life will satisfy his hunger.
So the beast swallowed his prey whole.
A flash of light then came from the side. It stung. The unpleasantness made the beast wince and hide under the furniture, safe in the shadows.
Who there? Why here? The beast wondered. He sniffed and whiffed to make sure.
His nose picked up the scent of a friend!
A voice said: “Oookay Gael, what are ya doing under there?”
She looked into his hiding spot with a soft orange lantern in hand. Yellow eyes. Dark skin. It was indeed a friend. Not just any friend. She’s the fun friend!
“Ugh. I know that stinky stink from anywhere. Good lord, I leave ya alone for two minutes and ya gone and eat an effing roach? Are you THAT hungry?!”
The beast tilted his head. Puzzled. Why was there such disgust over that insect?
“You don’t get it, huh?” She sighed. “I’m not sure which is worse. This bug, or the moss incident.”
He did not understand what was bad about the moss either. Nonetheless, he licked his hands clean to rid himself of the creature’s smell. Friend didn’t like.
Pointing to herself, the friend asked a question. “Hey, do you remember my name?”
The beast blinked. He could feel the answer deep in the jungle of his mind. He just needed to dig it out.
After a few false starts, he uttered, “Sen… Cen… Cenna!”
“Good job!” ‘Cenna’ praised. “Now what’s your name? You already heard half the answer from me.”
Gael. That’s what she said. He recognized the sound.
But… unlike the friend’s name, he couldn't find the rest of the pieces.
The inability to recall made him frustrated. Angry. He clutched his head and growled.
“Whoa whoa whoa, calm down. Not coming to you, huh? That’s okay. I’ll teach ya. It's Gaelic. Gael-lic. Can you do that?”
He tried to mimic her, but it was hard. “Ka…keh…ga… Gael… lic…”
“Eh, close enough. Keep practising, dude. You’ll get better soon.”
She reached out her hand to pet him on the head. He liked it very, very much. It satisfied one of his many hungers, as fleeting as the moment may be.
“Do you want to go to the kitchen? Grab some grub? They should have lots of delicious treats by now. Tons better than that icky roach.”
Grub meant food. Did he still crave food? He touched his tummy, checking for the hunger pangs. They’re there, but not strong. Not strong at all.
Where then did the intense pain come from?
The tips of his fingers trailed upwards. To the chest.
“Here. Here hungers? H-Hurts?”
“Oh,” said the friend. “I get ya. You had a bad dream again? Wanna talk about it?”
He nodded, happy that Cenna knew.
“Take your time, Gaelic. Don’t force it. Stop whenever you want to stop. Okay?”
‘Okay’. Words… words… How do they string together? What gives them meaning? Why do they exist? To the beast, they function like magic.
“Ko… Cold,” he said. “Under cloud. Rain. Uh… Eat small fuzz. Bugs. Roots. Not enough. Never enough. Hungry. Cold. Hungry… Re-mem… ber. Not dream. Memory.”
Water moistened his eyes. ‘Tears’, they were called. They intensified the pain in his chest. His claws wanted to dig in, tearing out the invisible bindings choking him.
Cenna looked sad. “Isn’t that when you ran away into the human lands? I heard about that. Pretty much your worst days, no?”
Worst? ‘Most bad’? Could that be the worst?
Gaelic shook his head. “Worst? No. Mmm. Different bad most bad.”
“Well okay, ONE of the worst. Is that better?”
“Aye. Aye better.”
A sudden fear gripped him: dark, confused thoughts that crawled in the underbrush, armed with stinging venom. Gaelic darted into a corner, curling his knees close to his chest. His eyes darted around, seeking out for signs of danger.
Many found this behaviour abhorrent. Told him to grow a spine. To be more assertive. They were happier when he played the role of the romantic trickster. Tease and tickle. Poke and riddle. Speak in poetry and song.
Yet others lavished him more for his docility. Praised. Fawned. Their fantasy fulfilled. Stay that way. Be a good boy. Let them toy and play and bruise.
Still some provoked his wild side. They wanted to gamble at the mysterious, dangerous, and deadly. Dabble in forbidden pleasures. The taboo that most feared.
The beast did not know what should be his identity.
He did not know what ‘identity’ meant either.
He just wanted this hunger satisfied. To be accepted. To be loved. For that he’d become anything he must.
Worried, Cenna asked: “You alright there, buddy?”
“… Bad… bad touch…” he muttered. “…No. Do not want. But hungry. So hungry. If don’t give, stay hungry.”
“Uh, Gael. I think you’re trying to say ‘lonely’.”
“Lon… Lonely?”
“Your heart was ‘hungry’. Right?” Cenna tapped her chest. “That’s loneliness.”
‘Loneliness’. A hungry heart. Was that what it means? He had a feeling that Cenna was right. Cenna always knows best. Most good.
She patted him again. “That’s in the past, buddy. You’re not in that bad place with bad people anymore. You have me. Lucy. Mez. Not to mention you made a whole bunch of new friends!”
New friends?
The thought made him happy at first. But then, who were these new friends? His mind couldn’t make the connection.
He recalled the little bean. A human child with short brown hair. They cooked for him once. Had an adventure together. Good child. Long shadow.
He also recalled another member of his kind. Tall. Smelled of Orange, Green, and Blue.
Good guy. Or so he once thought.
It was the traitor to his Lord.
The beast hissed and snapped. “Traitor! Traitorrrrrr! Not friend! Crush his bones! Eat! Eat!”
“Hey, hey. No eat tall skeleton.” Cenna said, “It was all a misunderstanding. Mis-un-der-stand-ing. Get it? He wants to say sorry, so you should let him try. Remember the Scripture? Forgive seventy times seven, as the Almighty forgives you.”
Scripture. Holy words that give life. Even if he didn’t understand anything of what was said, it gave him peace: another hunger fulfilled.
“Forgive… seventy times seven. Seventy times seven.” Gaelic repeated.
Except, this time, the expected peace did not happen. Instead, the pain in his heart remained. Loneliness? No. Not loneliness. It was a different kind of hurt. He remembered the prison bars. The docks. The ocean. A boat leaving across the horizon. His beloved, taken away.
No. She ran away. Ran from him. Fled to let the beast take all the blame.
“Not me!” he yelled, “Dinnae do! Lies! Come back! Come back and tell them it not me! No, no, no! Sorry for stupid! Stupid, stupid! Sorry! For-give me! Sorry!!!”
Too many eyes had stared down their curses. Too many hands had climbed on his bones. Too many wills had chased him away.
The surge of fear pushed him to run. Run, run home. But where is home? What does home look like? Is home safe? What is safe?
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Darkness? Underground? Woods? Cave?
Anywhere no hands will reach and no eyes will judge. Anywhere others won’t hurt him. Anywhere he won’t hurt others.
Anywhere will do.
The beast darted out of its hiding spot. This place was no longer deemed safe.
Portal. He wanted to find a portal. A way out of danger. To run far, far, far away. The deeper into the wild, the better.
No one goes into the wild.
No one will find him there.
Dealing with beasts like himself was easier. He could fight. He could bite. He could kill and eat without fearing hundreds of eyes, hunting him down for revenge.
He rammed into a wall. No portal there. So he tried running the other direction, plowing through the ‘tables’ and the ‘chairs’.
Another wall. Again nothing. No escape. Prison? Box? The thought of being trapped plunged him further into panic.
So he ran into more walls. And more walls, and more walls, and more walls. He’d smash himself out if he must.
“Gael! Stop!!!”
Someone, or something, grabbed him. He struggled to break free at first, but then… the familiarity in scent made him stop.
A tight, warm embrace soothed his flight. It took a while for him to realise that he had his face pressed against Cenna’s belly.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered, “Maybe that was too soon. Let’s forget about Papyrus for a while, ‘kay? We’ll handle that later. Later.”
Comfort. Soft comfort. Every breath the beast took was filled with the odors of the woman he trusts.
When he hugged back, his hands squeezed her buttocks. Cenna was not wearing her usual thick clothes. This borrowed dress was much thinner. Finer. He could feel where the underwear ended and the skin began, and the texture of fat above those well-toned muscles…
The grip wasn’t intentional. Accidental. Yet, it stirred the appetite of his hungering heart. No matter how toxic, the heated high fed him, desperate to satisfy that unending desire.
“Please,” he whined. “Mate. Be one.”
Cenna replied with the usual answer. “No, hun. No can do. I promised ya, Gael. I’ll never be your girlfriend. I’ll only be your good friend.”
“Why? Love ya. Love ya lots.”
“That’s exactly why I made that promise. Selling your body ain’t gonna make you less lonely. It just makes it worse. Get it?”
“No…” More tears trickled down his cheekbones. “So hungry. Lonely.”
“…Poor thing,” she said. “You need to learn how to make friends without benefits, man. Real pals won’t take advantage of ya. No matter how many times you beg, plead, or cry. And, I’m gonna show you by example.”
Cenna reached over to his hands. Finger by finger, she lifted them off her bottom.
Despite his drive and instincts, the beast did not retaliate. Her ‘will’ was warm. Peaceful. Lacking in malice. Though it did not shine anywhere as bright as his Lord's, he understood her heart.
The human friend patted him on the shoulder. “C’mon buddy, let’s get you to the infirmary first. Then we’ll have dinner. Class cleanup can wait for last.”
Cenna held Gaelicʼs hand, lifted him up, and led him down the school halls.
He squinted from the brightness outside. Did not like. So he stayed in her shadow.
Midway, Cenna stopped walking. A new scent filled the air: one of soft wood embers and spiced wine. Similar to his Lord, but not the same.
“Oh, hey. Sir Grillenn. Back from helping Lucy already?”
“…Yes… Um… Your dress…”
What about friend Cenna’s dress? He tried to glance up against the glare to see why the question was asked…
The lower half of the dress had a long tear. Going up.
Such a nice thing, ruined. Ruined because of him.
“Eh,” she said, “These fancy dresses ain’t good for rough work. Gael freaked out and he was knocking into the walls and furniture, so I had to throw myself in to restrain him. Afraid to say the classroom is a total mess. Hope Queen Toriel won’t hold me against that.”
“…I’m sure she won’t…” replied the fire elemental.
“Any updates on Sans?”
“…Not good… He has gone completely insane… The mad scientist kind…”
“Yikes. Talk about going from bad to worse. I’ll catch up with ya later. Gotta take my buddy here to the infirmary for a quick check up.”
“…You better not… You know who is there… arranging details for his big brother…”
“Bloody really?! Then it’s a detour to the canteen, I suppose. It’s dinnertime after all. You wanna join?”
Before the fire could respond, the beast detected a sharp spike of strange air. It tingled. Singed. His nasal cavity stung from the irritation.
This sensation… reminded him of a brewing thunderstorm.
Before he could warn his friend, lightning struck the hallways. The ceiling lights burst. Chunks of the wall clattered on the ground. The world seemed to crash around him.
The beast’s first reaction was one of fear.
How? Why?
Lost and disoriented, he cowered low to the ground.
Cenna held him close. Reassured him that there was no need to be scared and everything was okay.
Then a thought reached him.
What about his Lord? His Master?
Master should be somewhere in this building.
The beast’s Eye lit wild.
No obstacle could stop the hunter’s sight. Not wall. Not floor.
Below, in a different classroom, a small human lay face-down on the floor and under the table. It was the little bean. Good child with long shadow. Out cold.
Violence broke out. An enemy cloaked in white squares slammed the Master against the floor. Punched him. Tossed him against the wall.
The Master could barely fight back. Injured. The lightning must have struck true.
Fear snapped right into rage. The beast hissed, growled, and shrieked. He got on his limbs, preparing himself to dash to his Master’s rescue.
But he couldn’t. Friend Cenna kept holding him down. She cried. Begged. Pleaded to not go.
And so the beast wondered:
Why?
Why friend won’t let?
Master in trouble!
He wanted to tell Cenna to stop hugging. He’s the best choice. The strongest. So why? Why not let go?
He tried to talk.
No words came out.
They were all arranged wrong. Gibberish.
The rage turned inwards into the beast’s own heart.
Why was it so hard to make words?
Friend Cenna said, “Don’t burn… Eye. Please… don’t…”
Why did Cenna mumble? Why was her voice so weak?
The elemental waved his hand to catch his attention. He kept looking at Cenna, concerned.
From his lips breathed her name and a whole lot of gibberish. They’re words whose meaning the beast could not perceive. ‘Sound symbols’, he called them. But soon after, the man used simpler terms, and the beast could finally understand.
“…Stop…” he said. “…Look… She is hurt… Doctor… Hurry…”
A metallic odor was close. Too close. The beast sniffed to pinpoint the source. It came from friend’s hair. Blood. Sweat. Fear. Burnt skin. Rock dust.
Bad, bad signs. Friend was hurt. In trouble. But how much? Can she be moved?
He laid her on the ground. The hallway was poorly lit. Shiny sources not shining anymore.
“…Need light?…”
The helper conjured a ball of flame, like a campfire in the air. Now the beast could see. Examine.
His Lady had spent much time and effort to teach him what to watch for. Methods. Steps. When someone gets injured, he must find the problem as fast as possible.
The beast thus used his Eye to peer under Cenna’s clothes.
What were these strange burns? He wondered. They look like trees. Roots sprawling from her shoulder down her arm. Did lightning strike her there? It must have.
He moved on to the next layer, the organs, muscles, and bones. Spied how the blood flowed, and if there were any leaks anywhere.
Her scalp had a cut that looked like it came from a fallen piece of rock. Heart beating too fast. Muscles tensed in small spasms. Other organs seem stressed too.
At least her brain was safe.
Friend was half-conscious. She muttered sound symbols and her eyes couldn’t focus.
“Help… it hurts…” Those were the only words that made any sense.
Cenna would not behave like this from a small flesh wound. She survived stabs and shots before. Held herself together. But this? From this, she whimpered. The pain must be unbearable.
The fire elemental placed his hand on the beast’s spine. The touch was firm yet gentle.
“…I’ll carry…” he offered.
Though the beast knew his own strength would be more than enough, the fire elemental was the warmer of the two. Plus, his back was smooth. Not like a skeleton’s. Good for carrying humans. Very good.
So the beast helped load friend Cenna on the man’s back. Then, together they travelled down the dark hallways.
The storm had destroyed the shining rods in the ceiling. Sparks jumped and popped from their broken outlets. Whenever they did so, the beast’s instincts told him to shirk away. They’re loud. Dangerous.
The fire elemental thought so too. He looked back to say: “…Stay close…”
A moment later, the good helper’s shoe touched a piece of concrete. Almost tripped over it. The obstacle caused him to stop. He breathed an annoyed sigh.
Why? What happened? The beast investigated. It turned out that the path to the stairs had suffered a massive collapse. Ceiling panels and chunks of the wall littered the once smooth floor.
The beast recalled the rock that had hurt Cenna. The thought made him angry. Angry at rock. Rock, bad. Must be cleared.
And that’s what he did. He tossed and pushed aside debris after debris. Anger fuelled his great strength. No awkward shapes and heavy weights could stop him. If an object could be tossed, it would be tossed. Obstacles, begone!
“…Thank you…” said the elemental.
Hearing that gratitude made the beast happy. He’s being helpful, and helpful is good. It further motivated him to keep the pathways clean.
All was fine until they arrived at the stairwell.
The beast coughed and covered his face. It was the wretched stench of burning plastic. From beneath the black smoke came a strong, suspicious orange glow. A school notice board had caught fire on the in-between floor along with some posters.
The elemental beckoned for the beast. He put friend Cenna down and instructed: “…Wait here… Watch…”
That’s right. Skeletons like himself could withstand some heat. But friend Cenna? No. Humans and big fire don’t mix. And the helper? He’s ‘Fire Eater’. The Lady said so. His species absorbs fire to boost their magic. Multiplied. Enhanced.
The beast did as he was told. He stayed, and he watched. Meanwhile, the helper took a moment to stretch his arms and neck.
Then he reached a hand out to the flames and drew them into himself.
The beast had a feeling that he had seen this monster in action before. It was on the cursed moon with that tomato-scented heretic.
But this time, there was something new. Something different. Something Red. A commanding presence. How similar it was to the fish, the bean, and Master.
No. Wrong, wrong. Something else had been mixed in: a light unique to the large goat with a golden beard… the greatest of monsters…
The beast realised what it meant. A seed was planted. Sprouting. Still small. But will grow quick and strong. Fire Eater will be a simple bartender no more. Though, it doesn’t seem that the wielder had realised this yet.
With the flames quenched, the elemental returned to pick up friend Cenna. Their journey resumed.
At last, they arrived at the infirmary. The place of beds and medicine. It too was damaged by the lightning. Medics running to and fro tried to treat and transport other human victims. No shinies overhead here either. Smelled of burnt bits and trouble.
But biggest trouble wasn’t that. Among the humans stood the tall, scarfed skeleton that smelled of Orange, Green, and Blue.
‘Trouble.’ ‘Traitor’. ‘Papyrus’.
The beast growled. Crouched. Ready to pounce. If he tossed Master into the heat of judgement, would he do the same for Cenna?
“…No!…” The fire elemental commanded. “…Down… Down…”
Why? Why not attack?
While the beast stood there confused, the fire elemental gave Cenna to the human medics. He also said some sound symbols to ‘Papyrus’, too difficult to follow.
Meanwhile, the traitor skeleton kept nodding along. He smelled of caution and enthusiasm.
When they’re done, the fire elemental returned and said: “…You… Gaelic… take care of Cenna…”
Words. Need words. Need to warn good helper that Master was in trouble.
“M-Master?” said the beast, “Master!”
“…What happened?…”
Growl. Snap. “Enemy! Enemy attack!”
“…Where is Master?…”
The beast pointed in the direction where he last saw him. “There. Class-room.”
Fire Elemental nodded. “…I’ll save Master… Good?…”
Strong fire go against the enemy? Happy, very happy to hear. Master will be safe!
How to express? The beast remembered that one word. ‘Good’. That’s the word of praise and approval. Good is good.
“Good,” the beast replied. “Good! Good!”
“…Thank you, Gaelic…”
Gaelic? Name? Remember name. Cenna taught him earlier.
The trusted man left for the rescue, taking the questionable skeleton ‘Papyrus’ along.
Gaelic did not mind. The strong Fire Eater can handle any trouble. Right?
But, the skeleton came back. At the door, he signed the following symbols:
[I AM SORRY…]
Sorry? Sorry don’t believe. Gaelic could not read his will. Will not strong. Not clear. Don’t know if honest. So, he growled back.
Papyrus must have realised that. He rubbed the sides of his skull to wake himself up.
On the second try, he signed: [I AM SORRY! AND I WILL COOK A DELICIOUS MEAL AS AN APOLOGY!]
Food? For Gaelic? It was the same promise as before. The beast did not want. Not genuine. Distant. But now, he could feel that sincere will up close.
Tall traitor was not traitor after all? Was Cenna right again? Cenna always knows best. Most good.
Satisfied or not, Papyrus soon hurried off to catch up with the fire monster.
After the skeleton had left, pangs of true hunger gripped Gaelic’s abdomen. Belly unseen, yet could feel. Jittery, yet tired. So very tired. Needed to feed. Delicious meal apology sounded very appetizing now. But that had to wait. Wait until he sees his Master safe by his side. Safe.
In the meantime, he continued to watch over his injured friend.