Interlude (Famine) - The State of Blissful Satiation

Famine remembered being born, how he and his siblings emerged from the crisscrossing of information, carried by messengers and gossip. Plagues in a town; skirmishes between nations; demises of major figures; and, of course, droughts that led to mass starvations.

He remembered the first meeting with each of his siblings. The secret codes they had developed to identify each other. The friendships they had forged. The time they had spent together.

None of them remembered those times. Only Famine did. Such a blessing, to forget. He also wished to possess it.

He still recalled the dark moments of humanity. Blaming the innocent for the spread of diseases. The pillaging and slavery after a bloody battle. The number of slow ways to execute a person. And of course, the cannibalism and betrayals during periods of scarcity.

He had, in his memory, the mythical creatures gathering at sites of human misery. Some of those beings reveled in the suffering. Others pitied the despair. A few even attempted to help. But it didn’t matter. Because Famine was the only one who could see them.

“Humans are just the worst,” said a particularly clingy creature. Flies always buzzed around its rotting humanoid body. Insect wings jutted out from its back. Its name, as the people had granted it, was Beelzebub.

Day and night. Without end or break. The demon kept whispering in Famine’s ears, speaking about the sins of humankind. Famine had tried to run from the creature, but Beelzebub was the only one he had yet to lose. Even if he died, Beelzebub would follow his spirit to the next host.

The passage of centuries had led Famine to give up on a solution; besides, he had already gotten used to the demon’s voice. On the bright side, the repulsive babbling had distracted him from his dreadful memories.

He never realized that he could quiet both. Until the day he met his savior in Egypt. The opium poppy. He snuck into a merchant’s house to try it, once he happened to learn about the substance through his quasi-omniscience.

He didn’t have high hopes. But the result was miles better than he had expected. His mind blurred, and time stretched. Usually, he thought his days didn’t fly by quickly enough, but for these few slowed hours, he had felt the most joy in a long time. No voices. No images. No information.

His mind cleared. Freed from the burden of knowledge. He felt a refreshing breeze caressing his body and the warmth of a morning hike enveloping him.

Since then, the first thing he would do after each reincarnation was to search for the local drug. If his host was in the way, he would deploy sweet words. Or trickery. Or threats. Or if all else failed, he would command the stalking demon to kill the host, so he could take over the body. That was the one thing Beelzebub was good for.

He had basically been taking poison, but so what? If one body failed, he would just get another. And when that one failed, another one. That was how he could withstand the weight of eternity.

“Hey, Okada Minoru. I’m a voice in your head.” Famine had used this opening so many times that it came to him as naturally as breathing. His new host was a twenty-six-year-old skinny boy. But to Famine, only the name mattered, because the name was necessary for his manipulations to work. To convince the boy to go to the nearest drug dealer.

Minoru didn’t answer. His gaze remained fixed on the vast forest below him; he lorded over it from a mountain bench.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

“Yes, I can,” Minoru said, his lips barely moving.

“Don’t you feel surprised? Scared?”

“A little. But it’s fine.”

“Why? I could annoy you. Every day. Every moment.”

“It’s okay if you do. I’ll listen.”

Famine couldn’t think of another word to say. He wasn’t short of ideas; Beelzebub kept supplying them. But he found himself captivated by Minoru’s rhythm, confined to the scenery before them. A calmness held him in place, forced him to slump in his goal. For the first time in centuries, he listened.

The leaves brushed against the morning air. Birds praised the light breeze. Nature hummed an elongated tune through echoes from unknown sources. Even the spiteful lectures from Beelzebub merged into the marvelous symphony.

He had sunk into the wholesome harmony of the world. Never thought he would reach this state while sober. But that was what happened.

The afterglow sustained him through the crushing week of memories and murmurs. Minoru returned to the same spot the next weekend, and the next.

Maybe this is enough for me. Famine had noticed more details of Minoru. Dark hair similar to that of Famine’s true form. A round face with smooth skin. A quiet focus that exuded wisdom. The image of him tasted sweet in Famine’s mind. He was the shelter to the storm raging within Famine.

Famine was literally in Minoru’s body, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted them to be even closer. “I love you,” Famine said. Minoru replied with a silent smile. Famine knew by now that it meant approval.

Occupying the same space was merely an inconvenience with ample solutions. Left hand holding the right. Kissing a mirror. Arms wrapped over the body on the bed. The serenity between them was warm enough for Famine, but he still felt a corner of the picture missing. After all, Beelzebub’s voice still gabbled in the background.

Quasi-omniscience uncovered a way to fill in the gap for him. An opioid-based drug that supposedly could repel spirits and magical creatures. Famine checked the magical programming in the underground servers. The drug was the real deal. It might actually send Beelzebub away once and for all.

“Please, I reserved a bit of funds. All so I can buy it. I swear, I just want a taste. I want to see if it’s worth the excitement,” he begged his lover.

The money wasn’t his. He grabbed it from the multiple company accounts, specifically those that had already been plagued with embezzlement. After the cash was transferred through several middlemen to cover his tracks, he got his hands on the drug from a black-market dealer.

The transparent liquid inside the syringe looked as ordinary as it could be, but Famine still sensed the magic oozing from it. Or maybe it was just his imagination.

“It will only last an hour and definitely has no side effects?” Minoru asked.

“Of course, my love. It won’t affect your life at all.”

He just needed one shot. To see if it would really work. Just one. Even when he wasn’t certain what the drug would do to his body.

The needle broke through his skin, and the magical fluid gushed into his bloodstream. His quasi-omniscience warped, and knowledge flowed into his mind. Too much of it.

The abundance of information swallowed him. His memories were rendered irrelevant in this flood. He couldn’t even comprehend his own thoughts, let alone feel Beelzebub’s presence; actually, he couldn’t sense any mythical creatures nearby at all. But… Famine couldn’t hear Minoru anymore either. He didn’t feel any movement from his lover. The body no longer belonged to anyone. It was solely a vessel of information.

It was fine. The magic sustained him, so he didn’t need to eat or drink. No sleep or excretion. No pain or tension. He didn’t remember where he had taken the drug. And where he currently was. Maybe his body had moved him somewhere.

How long has it been? This stray question had appeared countless times, but each time it simply got lost in the sea of everything else.

Not this time. The flashing crowd of information toned down a bit. His mind became clear again. All thanks to an anomaly in his surroundings. A blank spot amidst the messy canvas of knowledge. He checked for Minoru’s presence. Nothing. Instead, he heard his breathing growing faster and more jagged. The fact that he could hear anything at all was concerning in itself.

He had to destroy the source of his distress, so his mind could ramp up to overdrive again. Click. As the light broke through, Famine realized that he had been bathed in the darkness. He saw a blonde woman standing in the doorway.

That was all he knew of her. She was the only clarity in the chaos. He had to kill her, before his memories could come back to him.