Chapter Text
As far back as He could remember, He had been alone.
On the day He was born, in the darkness of that damp, visceral room, his first impression of the world around him was that the flies flying over his head were loud and annoying.
The second thing was that the smell in the room was both good and repulsive at the same time.
The third was that, apart from the flies and maggots under his tiny hands, he was the only “alive” person in that room.
Of course, at that time he didn't have much reasoning about it.
He was hungry and strangely ill at ease. He wanted to eat and he wanted to be held, even if he didn't understand why at the time.
In its anger the thing had thrown a tantrum, kicking and screaming and rubbing itself against the carnage that was the floor. Its voice was very distorted and abnormal – but then, as a newborn, there was no way it could understand what was “normal”; and perhaps in the future it would not even care about such things.
The important thing at that moment was that he was hungry.
And the body that was next to him – the one he was born into – the one he dug and tore his way out of, was the closest to him...
...
He didn't remember much after that. It had been like a primal instinct; animal.
One moment he was a distorted, dried-up baby on the ground, and the next his arms and legs had become like a spider's; stretching and twisting at his faithful pleasure. Making him lift his belly off the ground and launch himself at the corpse with frightening agility and precision.
From late evening until early morning, he was no longer hungry.
...
And what was once a newborn was now a baby of apparently 3 years old. Naked on the bones of the body that once belonged to his mother.
Licking his dirty little fingers while burping in satisfaction, he could only boast since he was already satisfied...
...
Too bad he was still alone.
Alone in that room that smells of death. Alone with five other dead people in an empty room, in a crumbling cabin.
Alone.
...
It had not been a good life experience.
You see, It moved by instincts. When it cried and screamed, when it stretched out its arms and legs, when it devoured all the flesh in front of it. It was like a natural order of things.
He didn't know or understand why he was doing those things, he just felt he had to do them, he did them and accepted that he had done them. It was simple and easy.
Just like leaving that cabin without a shred of attachment to the bodies he had left behind or the wooden cabin that hid among the trees. He entered the forest like a young cat discovering freedom for the first time.
Without fears, doubts or caution. So small and the poor creature was already impulsive.
He met the Others when he reached the end of the forest. When he found his first road and his first gas station.
Maybe it was because of his lack of self-preservation instinct – or maybe it was out of pure trust, out of something primitive inside him; but he hadn't hesitated to get close to those “people”.
They were pale—very pale—and most of them had open wounds all over their bodies beneath their torn clothes. Which, to him, wasn't very noticeable.
What was really shocking were their eyes. The sclerae of their eyes were orange, filled with tiny blood veins – their irises were almost as red – there was black blood flowing from their noses and slipping between their teeth...
And the way they twisted their arms... Their necks, their bodies... It looked like they were dislocating and relocating their bones with each sudden, rapid movement and-
-He hadn't liked it.
So even though those things had seen Him and had not attacked or shown the slightest interest, He still had not approached them.
Strangely, he knew that these creatures were, in some way, like him; that they were his kind. It was like a fleeting certainty—like knowing that meat would satisfy his hunger—
It was his mysterious instinct. Or what he found easiest to digest.
In the end, he had just decided to leave without getting too close to the things. There were buildings on the horizon and they looked a lot more interesting than what was inside the gas station (there were a lot of them inside).
Walking for a while, he found himself arriving at the first buildings with an almost childlike excitement; ignoring the creatures that surrounded him, who also had no interest in him.
Back when he was born, he hadn't noticed how wobbly and numb his legs had been at the time; now they felt steadier. He could feel them much more as he jumped and ran into the largest building he had ever encountered.
The ground was covered in blood, dust, and dirt. It would be disgusting if He had not been born from it. So He walked around and observed the corpses on the ground—
Some were writhing and crawling, but they had no legs to stand on, others were hiding in corners. It was very dark—and apart from the screaming and moaning noises the Others were making, there weren't many sounds either.
There was a staircase leading to the upper floors, and he could feel the sparks of curiosity burning like a bonfire. He began to climb, dodging the suitcases and luggage carts that seemed to be piled up on the way up. He would later learn that the building he had entered was actually a luxury hotel, which had lost its shine and splendor many years ago.
Now, it was just trash and dirt, full of cockroaches and invasive foliage.
And sounds.
His ears and eyes shot up.
They weren't moans, they weren't screams like the Others. They were footsteps and they were Words.
New sounds that piqued his curiosity like a flame to a moth.
He looked down the stairs, seeing that the Others hadn't noticed anything yet.
He looked up again and noticed that the sounds were much higher up than he had thought. They were muffled, far away.
Maybe he had much better hearing than expected...
He walked up the stairs. He walked through the hallways, looking for the next staircase. He opened a few doors—all of them to rooms, some empty, some not.
Then he found more stairs.
These looked more like barricades than the others, with lots of suitcases and furniture blocking the entrance.
A grown-up could never get by without making a mess; without destroying half the things.
But he wasn't an adult. He was small and agile, and he used his arms to stretch and launch himself to the top of the barricade, managing to squeeze under the gap between the ceiling and the furniture.
It had been uncomfortable—but his body was elastic and pliable, almost like a cat's. Soon he was falling to the ground on the other side.
And with this small victory he continued on his way to the sounds. Following the corridors and seeing that there were more barricades; which he had also managed to pass through with ease.
2 minutes of searching and he had also found more stairs. And he kept climbing. Until he reached the correct floor.
There he could hear everything a little more clearly. It was very different from the sounds of the others.
“Quick, we don’t have much time-“
“Calm down! I’m looking for it—don’t rush me!”
“Damn it- What a shitty idea to come all the way down here! Did you see how full of those things are down there?! If one of them finds us, we’re dead!”
“We’re all dead if you don’t shut up!”
“If we don’t get these documents today, Cipher Pol will be on our tail forever... Stop arguing and come help!”
He couldn't understand anything. Not a single word.
But for some reason he knew they were communicating with each other. And that was exciting in itself.
He wanted to see more, he wanted to know more. He wanted that too.
He opened the door with his little fingers, seeing that it was not locked.
He had a vision of three adult men, all huddled together in the room, where they had gathered folders and documents.
Another, a fourth man had returned with a briefcase in his hands – he seemed to have come from the office.
“Right! I think it might be here... It has the scoundrel’s name on the briefcase.”
“Doctor Vegapunk?”
“The very one.” With a mocking grin he tucked the briefcase under his arm. “Enough of this mess, let’s get out of here!”
And then he turned his gaze slightly.
And out of the corner of his eye the man caught a brief glimpse of Him; freezing in mid-stride.
The man turned his head completely towards Him, his eyes widening with each passing second, his jaw following suit as it dropped in shock. The fear on his features was palpable.
"What the hell is that...?!"
And from one second to the next, all the men were on alert. Grabbing their weapons as they hurriedly got up. Moving so they could get a view of what had scared the first of them so much.
Everyone's faces twisted in disgust and shock; seeming to mix with fear and revulsion.
He couldn't understand why those men were looking at him like that. Not even the Others had looked at him like that. He hadn't even moved yet, just watching them with curiosity and passivity.
Could it be because he wasn’t wearing clothes like the rest of them? Even the Others wore clothes – even if they were torn and shredded – so maybe that was it.
“Goddamnit, Goddamnit...” One of the men raised a steel pipe in his hands and It's just looked at the weapon with mild fascination. What was he going to do with it?
“What are you waiting for?! Kill it!”
“Damn! That thing won’t stop staring!”
“Holy shit...” One of the men behind him, who also had a pipe in his hands, moved forward quickly. And before he could even blink or think about what was happening, he was already on the ground.
The barrel had hit his head.
“Fuck- W-What...?!”
He was on the floor, his cheek pressed against the wood.
“You got it right?! But where’s the blood...?”
His third eye was hurting. He thinks he had crushed it when he fell.
“I-I don’t know! The barrel just sank into the head but I barely felt the i-impact!”
Ah, it had taken him a few seconds to understand. But now things seemed clear to Him.
“O-Oh my God... His head is coming back!”
He had been attacked.
“But h-how?! His skull practically sank inwards!”
“It doesn’t matter! Just keep hitting!”
A pipe rose over his head. And He looked up.
Now-
He was hungry again.
...
It was all over in 12 minutes.
He was a creature of instinct; never tell him he couldn't be born one hour and hunting the next.
...
He stood over the bodies, feeling his torso close up again. Who would have thought he would have a second mouth? They certainly didn't.
That must have been why they looked so scared at first. There was a large X on his body—it ran from his shoulders to his hips—and sometimes, when he was very relaxed, the edges of the lines would move and twitch—like lips. There was blood flowing through them now, from his recent meal.
Now he was dirtier than when he was born.
Quite different from the humans at his feet- Uh. Before they were brutally killed. Oops.
Well, okay, at least he now understood a little bit about the world around him. It had been worth it.
From the blood of those men, he had acquired crumbs of small information.
And now he understood why he had been attacked so readily.
Heading to the bathroom, he rose up on his tiptoes, almost hanging, and stared at himself in the mirror.
His third eye, which was now bruised and purple beneath his left eye, was just like the Others'. Orange, red, and full of veins. The good thing was that it was only on the inside of it.
His skin was normal. His hair, his height, even his flesh-filled teeth. Everything looked human- at least at that moment.
...
So it was easy.
It was easy to find a needle and thread in that hotel bathroom.
Sewing his eye shut was difficult. He would never admit it, but he cried through the entire process. It was messy and wet and bloody. And he patted his damaged eye afterward—in apology.
Then came bathing and dressing, which was tricky at first but fun once he had figured out the magic.
The water was nice. It wasn't hot, but he didn't known any better; so it was very nice and fun. Also very red and black by the end of the bath.
Looking for the clothes was like... A treasure hunt.
He opened suitcases from room to room in the hotel, rummaging through the fabrics – all naked and wet – deciding what clothes he would wear. In the end, he decided on a green dinosaur T-shirt and blue shorts he had in a teddy bear suitcase. They were comfortable.
There were little slippers next to it too...
Thinking for a few minutes, He picked them up.
And so, He was ready, officially ready.
So he didn't know yet. But he would find out as he walked along. It would almost be like an adventure!
And it would start today! Yes! Deciding to leave the building, the now boy ran through the streets.
Dodging and stumbling among the Others as he sifted through his newly acquired memories.
130 kilometers to the East- Dawn- Goa City- Foosha Community.
Instincts drove him as he followed a memory that was not his. And that was enough.
...