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The Endless Hunger

April 27, 2019 2 min read

The Endless Hunger

The silence kept Fiona company as she trespassed. There was a rawness, an authenticity to forbidden places that couldn’t be found elsewhere. The shadows were different—they danced across a pallid canvas of moonlight, their depths much deeper than their daytime cousins. They spoke a different language as well, using the lips of settling floorboards and the slatted mouths of wheezing vents. All one need do is listen.

But here in the Tower of Teeth, all the hushed features that Fiona usually enjoyed felt predatory, hungry almost. It was no surprise—the place was one of the most infamous relics of the Great Darkness of 1999. A three-thousand-foot-tall spire of human teeth—and some not-so-human, according to rumor.

Places like this weren’t meant to be tamed. They couldn’t be. That’s why she knew its daytime appearance was a façade—a banal guise that lulled the masses while slowly sinking its billions of teeth into the neck of the world. She'd haunted enough shuttered spaces to know a structure's true nature, and she knew the Tower was different.

Fiona wandered for hours, the enamel crunching beneath her soles like a gravel driveway. She traversed yellowed staircases, loitered in strangely furnished rooms, ran her fingers along scaly walls. At one point, her fingers came away wet, and she recoiled—the walls had started to salivate.

Fiona found herself dashing through slick corridors dripping with drool, the air foul and heavy. When she finally tore through the exit, she felt something accompany her, worming its way into her gut—hunger, a kind she’d never felt before.

Fiona sprinted into the nearby forest line, but no longer out of fear—her stomach was a thousand yawning mouths screaming for sustenance. She fell upon a small rabbit, its body quickly succumbing to her frenzied teeth. Yet the void within her didn’t subside. It awoke. Its fangs grew longer, its appetite more voracious. Soon, her belly became a dumping ground for all—animals, insects, rocks, dirt. She even snapped at the air, hoping to swallow the very breeze that cooled her. She would devour the world, along with the stars and the black sea they floated in.

While deep in the bowels of an unfortunate possum, Fiona heard a faint sound from somewhere deep in the woods. It was calling her. Wiping viscera from her mouth with a bloody hand, she loped through tangles of brush like a wolf, trying to pinpoint the sound.

Fiona hunted the wilds until at last she discovered the source—a coyote, alone in a night-splashed glade. As if sensing a greater predator, it tried to escape, but Fiona dove upon it, unwrapping it like a wet, red Christmas gift. Instead of finding another steaming, bloody meal, she discovered a dark, ravening expanse. The blackness was the infinite throat of an endless, hungry thing, with the ferocious sounds of feasting animals echoing into eternity.

Fiona crawled into the void, joining her hunger with its own, disappearing into the carnivorous nowhere.

Somewhere within the Tower, a new set of teeth grew.


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