Chapter 9: Intense hunger
Chapter 9: Starved baby!
Glancing at the calm blue eyes of Vira and the piercing red eyes of Silas, the author felt his desire to comment slip away.
Yet, for the sake of the chapter's headings, he grimly muttered, "Well, that was not nice, was it?"
which vira did not respond to
With a sigh, he prompted himself to begin the chapter.
It was evident from Vira's eyes that he didn't understand anything Caroline had said. His gaze held a reluctant plea, clear to anyone who cared to notice. Even without knowing the language of his eyes, one could interpret his soft babble as, "Hey, don't leave me. I'd rather have you screaming than go with this mad drunk guy."
But aside from the snake, who was the only one remotely close to understanding him, no one could. Even if Caroline had somehow understood, all she would have offered in return was her voice dripping with disgust and fear, calling him a "demon child."
Andrew, on the other hand, had ears developed enough to catch her words, but he wished he hadn't. Her parting remarks left him enraged and slightly ashamed. He wanted to shout back about how cocky she was for assuming he couldn't even afford milk and how he only tolerated her for the sake of the child.
Unfortunately for him, before he could give voice to his thoughts, the car door slammed shut, and the taxi sped away.
Fuming, Andrew threw the milk bottle onto the passenger seat and started the car. He drove recklessly, perhaps fueled by his rage or simply forgetting there was a child in the car.
When they reached home, he grabbed Vira without a shred of gentleness and tossed him into the crib. Placing the milk bottle on the kitchen table, he stormed out once more, slamming the door behind him as he headed back to his car.
While all this was going on, there was another event unfolding alongside it—one that, I believe, deserves some notice.
From the moment Caroline took Vira to leave the hospital, several creatures seemed to awaken and began chasing after him. They weren't fantastical beasts or mythical entities but ordinary animals. The variety, however, was astonishing. Stray dogs, cats, birds, and even rats followed the car. Perhaps the only creatures not chasing after them were ants, tirelessly gathering food, and bees, equally occupied with their work.
Despite their efforts, Andrew's driving—though not as fast as it might become in the near future—was still far beyond what these animals could sustain for the entire journey. In their desperate attempts to keep up, the animals eventually fell behind, their pursuit in vain.
Yet, this wasn't an isolated occurrence. Birds and a few other creatures that had barely managed to keep up found themselves left behind again. Even those that had started to gather near the car at the taxi stand were soon outpaced, left to eat the dust of Andrew's reckless, breakneck driving.
But they seemed too reluctant to give up.
The animals began searching tirelessly, using whatever means they possessed. Birds soared as high as they could, spreading farther and farther in the air, desperately scanning for the car they so longed to reach.
Dogs and cats, with their keen noses, sniffed around relentlessly, hoping to catch even the faintest trace of the being that had drawn them in.
Whether it was the sadness or joy Vira exuded, it mattered not—whatever he radiated when they saw him, it compelled them.
They all yearned to be near him: to share in his joy or ease his sorrow, to be part of something that felt inexplicably meaningful to them.
They didn't understand the reason, but the pull was undeniable. Together, they searched, driven by an unshakable desire to find him, to be with him, and to experience his presence again.
A true pity, though, as none of them were able to find any trace of him—he was already too far away.
It was a sorrow not only for the animals, who failed to reach the one they so desperately longed to be with, but also for Vira.
He may never encounter these creatures, who were fervently hoping to accompany him in this strange new world.
Nine hours passed since Andrew had left.
As time went on, hunger kept rising inside Vira, and with it, his anxiety.
Viper, noticing its friend's pale face, came closer to Vira, hoping to offer comfort. But no matter how much it tried, the hunger made Vira weaker and weaker.
During the first few hours, Vira thought Andrew was just out for a while and would return soon. This thought, though distant, kept him hopeful for a time. But by the third hour, the hunger began to gnaw at him, and he wondered if Andrew would even come back.
By the fifth hour, with no sign of Andrew, the hunger became unbearable. Vira had lost all hope. But in order to stay sane, he began talking to Viper about his past life.
He shared little things and bigger moments—how he had never once had a girlfriend, let alone a wife. His colleagues used to tell him to find someone and get married, but he was content with his solitude. They even tried using pictures of their children to push him into marriage, hoping to fix him up with their sisters. He refused, and eventually, they stopped talking to him altogether.
He spoke about his life after he quit his job at 30, having gained financial freedom. He spent his time tinkering with small projects, things that brought him peace.
As Vira spoke, the serpent simply stared, coiling around him.
During his hour-long rant, one thought seemed to come up frequently: his overwhelming desire for food and the pain from hunger. Along with that, there was a deep sense of regret, especially about wasting food—though it was his previous self who had done it.
Viper, sensing this, seemed to take note. After Vira finally fell asleep from exhaustion, hunger, and his thoughts, Viper left his side for the first time. It went off to find something to bring back. When it returned, it carried with it a rat's carcass, which was clearly rotten from the smell.
Dragging the carcass by its mouth, Viper gently tried to wake Vira by licking his face. But Vira didn't stir. Growing worried, Viper remembered how it had woken that human before. It quickly replicated the action, slapping Vira's face with its tail.
It worked. Vira woke up, though there was something different. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were unnaturally reddish.
Vira, too hungry to feel any anger or frustration, simply looked at the snake. He could smell the rotten stench from the rat and, though he wanted to complain, he chose not to. After all, it was the serpent's kindness.
Despite his initial reluctance, Vira decided to act on his hunger. He asked Viper to help him out of the crib. Using his weak limbs, he tried to climb the crib's wall. After a bit of struggling, he fell, but fortunately, he landed on the soft carpet and a few clothes that had been scattered on the floor.
Viper, ever vigilant, gripped Vira's clothes to slow his fall. Thanks to the cushioning of the carpet and Viper's help, Vira wasn't hurt. He did roll a bit on the floor and when he tried to push himself up, he caught sight of the milk on the kitchen table through the open door.