Chapter Text
When you opened your eyes, they quickly adjusted to the dark room you found yourself in. You were hunched over, and your face and clothes felt wet and warm. You hated the feeling.
You also didn’t know where you were. You blinked, confused, and studied the room you sat in. It must’ve been night time with how dark it was, and your eyes eventually caught on the open window, letting in a cold stream of moonlight. You let out a breath you were holding. To sit beneath the moon felt refreshing, and distantly you wondered why you enjoyed it so much. You felt powerful , like nothing could stop you.
Your brain was still struggling to catch up.
Subconsciously, your tongue darted out to sweep away the weird liquid across your mouth. A salty sweet flavor met your taste buds and your body jolted. A surge of power rushed through you, and you felt yourself convulse slightly.
It was the most incredible thing you’ve ever tasted. You needed more, immediately.
Quickly, you scanned the room. Your eyes caught on the mangled form of a man lying before you. Suddenly, the world stilled, as you finally began to recall.
You were a normal student. You did normal student things. You came home at the end of every day to a nice bed and cooked a nice meal or got some nice takeout. And, you know for a fact that the last thing you did was go to bed at night.
So then, where the hell are you?
You were forced back to reality, staring at the corpse before you. It was that of a man, one you felt you recognized. You stared, taking in the slightly-wavy short black hair, discarded white hat, and black suit with white dress pants. You stared into his open, blood-red eyes. They held no life in them, and yet they stared unblinking, as if angered. You felt a shudder creep over you. You knew who this was.
It was Muzan Kibutsuji, from Demon Slayer. Or, someone who looked exactly like him? Maybe even a cosplayer? You considered the options, but something about those deep red eyes told you that he is the real deal. Was the real deal, you supposed. Since he’s apparently dead now.
Which perplexed you.
Muzan wasn’t killed in some random dark room. And what killed him?
You lost yourself in your thoughts for a brief moment. Again, your tongue darted out to taste the liquid smeared across your face.
With a sudden gasp, you felt that same surge of power. You felt that same burning desire for more, more, more . You brought your hands up to wipe the liquid away from your face, so you could see what it was.
Beneath the silver of the moonlight, you could see it was bright red.
You felt sick.
It was blood. You were consuming blood.
You scooted back, looking at “Muzan Kibutsuji.” You then took note of his left arm, which had several deep gashes and bite marks. Your hand went to your stomach and you inhaled sharply. The scent of the corpse and the blood entered your nose, and you found yourself drawn to it.
For the first time, you took note of how different your body felt. Your nails felt a lot sharper, and your teeth felt larger in your mouth. You felt stronger too, like you could run for days on end, or fight a bear. Or something.
You noticed your eyesight was sharper too, alongside your hearing. Honestly, all of your senses had drastically improved. And… if you were consuming this man’s body, then…
A wave of nausea washed over you with the implications.
This is a dream , you figured. I’ll just wake up.
You pinched your skin, clawed at your face, and plugged your nose, but nothing could seem to tear you away from this horrible place. You felt everything with the undeniable realness that came with reality.
You also felt hungry, like there was a hole where your stomach should be. Like said hole was clawing at your insides, forcing itself throughout your body, and suddenly you found yourself surging towards the body before you.
You moved without any thought, ripping his left arm from his torso, and sinking your teeth into it. Blood burst into your mouth, the flesh of the arm following soon. You drank the blood like you hadn’t had any drop of water in days. You swallowed the flesh like you’d only eaten scraps for months on end.
With each swallow, that same power coursed through your body, almost to the point where it hurt. It felt like every bone in your body was shattering and reforming into something stronger. It felt like every single blood vessel was popping and rebuilding itself into something invincible.
Like a starved dog given a hunk of raw meat, you ate. You ate every scrap until you reached the head. Until you reached those unblinking, undying red eyes.
You plucked them from the sockets, popped them in your mouth, and swallowed.