Page 219 of Light Leech

She put her hands on her head, not caring about the splattered gore as she turned to face me. “I–we zegging did it.”

I clenched my eyes shut, taking a moment to still myself before passing out.

I heard her run to me then felt her hands on my arms. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I just need a second.” I shrugged her arms off, my need to feed stronger than my desire to savor her comfort.

I opened my eyes and approached the corpse of the abomination. I peeled back his flayed gums and found a few teeth remaining. His gums had morphed around the tentacles, leaving the teeth above some tentacles and below others.

The conscience that held back my hunger told me to look back and make sure Naoma was fine or at least make sure she wouldn’t watch me feed.

Hunger was a mightier demon.

I reached for the teeth, burned my energy—no, my reserve. I had a Bite reserve. The hunger made sense.

I pulled the teeth and chewed as my memories reoriented themselves. My Bite. Deleon was dead. Cut was dead.

Gong still lived.

Syla. Was she–my thoughts cut off with memories of the last time I feasted.

Over Syla’s remains.

I vomited.

Weeping, hating myself more, I reached for the vomited remains and forced myself to swallow.

I continued to cry, choking down the bittersweet meal.

Zeg. All light above, forgive my existence.

Naoma did not speak. Her soft touch on my shoulders was just what I needed. Time to collect myself and reorient with reality.

I picked through the remaining mouth flesh and found nothing else to eat. Rather than turn and face her, I sat there, hands limp and hunched over like an ape. I was an animal, why not act like one?

Naoma tried to push the corpse away with her foot, but it wouldn’t budge more than a few inches.

She sat by my side and did not speak.

I turned to her, relieved that she wasn’t staring at me, despite my desire for an embrace. Just like my child, I wanted everything to be alright.

I had no child.

Enough time had passed for my memories to calibrate. My children’s deaths weren’t my fault because they never existed. Despite the relief, I longed for the bond that I had for them. I was by no means ready for children, but the relationship had felt so real.

As real as my marriage with Naoma. It was a distant dream, one too far into the future to wish for.

That did nothing to diminish the joy I had felt. The memories were false, but the emotions were all too real.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“What?” She looked at me.

I continued to stare at the corpse. “I’m so–”

“No, I know what you were saying. What I mean is, don’t be. Don’t be sorry. You did nothing wrong. That thing–whatever it did to you… I’m sorry you had to deal with that.” She paused, as if she wanted me to tell her what it had done but was not willing to be impolite. “We never should have come here in the first place.”

“What?” She grabbed my head, pulling me from my dismal reverie. “Look at me, Petya.”