Her hand grasped the doorknob.
"Wait." Amare stepped forward with one hand raised. He peered at Nansen. "OK, this is adorable and all, but shouldn't we take a minute to tell Baine what's going on? Awakening the thirst reflex is a very special moment for us."
Surely, they could have waited another excruciating hour for Baine to witness the birth of Iggy's thirst reflex, but Nansen was longing to take it for himself as a moment just between the two. He selfishly grinned a grin that wasn't from happiness, but a due respect, and shook his head subtly. "Baine? He can't make it. He's searching the outer wall, still trying to set everything right from the attack last week. Besides, Iggy's thirst reflex won't let him wait much longer. Wouldn't it be worse killing him rather than awakening who he's meant to be?"
Amare lowered his chin and took a step back. "I'll take your preference as an order… but don't say I didn't warn you." His finger flipped over a well disguised control panel on the wall next to the door. He pushed a button and the door lock banged open.
It was a cold cement room and there was a row of five metal chairs stretched from one wall to the opposite with a foot or two in between. Tattered leather straps hung from the armrests, along the legs, and at the top where the head would be. In the furthest metal chair there was an unkempt man strapped in. From his waist up, he was bare, and his hairy reddened chest was heaving. A taut cloth was pulled through his mouth and tied into a lump at the base of his neck. His forest green camouflage pants were caked with dried mud and were torn profusely at the knees. He jerked his arms and legs back and forth within the restraints, creating static vibrations in the air all around him.
Emi stepped inside and laid Iggy down onto the hard floor. He could feel the fast jittering movement through the stone. A strong salty smell filled the air. It smelled so good, so delicious. He could hear a wet pounding noise louder than everything else. He gazed to his side and saw dark metal chair legs bolted to the floor. Emi stood at the man's side, raising her palm toward Iggy. Inviting. Her voice sang, "come, we can feed on him together."
Iggy's body wanted to join her, but his soul was screaming for him to leave. To withhold. To repress. He shook his head and arched his back forward as if he was going to vomit; the pain in his stomach was terrible. His face flattened against the dirty floor in fatigue. "I… won't."
She clenched her fists at her sides and her voice rose in volume and shrillness. "But, you have to!"
"I can't-"
She stomped toward him and balled her fingers so that they appeared like claws. "Don't you want the pain to stop?! You're so thirsty! Just drink it and all the badness will go away. I promise."
Nansen leant against the doorframe with his legs crossed at the ankles. His arms crossed high over his chest, yet his fingers on one hand fidgeted impatiently. He sighed loud enough for everyone to hear. "Emi-" he held up one hand like a stop sign "-you don't have to do all of that. Just cut the man, and he'll come to you."
Her soul eating black eyes peered back at the man strapped to the chair who thrashed himself against the restraints still unable to loosen them enough. A quick smirk played on her lips as she strolled back to him.
"Please, don't," Iggy begged. "Spare him. I'm not worth it. Please-"
Her hand rose, lingering in the air next to the man's stubble neck. "You are worth it," she stated. Iggy lashed his head side to side, still begging to leave the prisoner alone, but she dragged her nail along the man's fragile skin, cutting him deep on the side of his neck. His rich red blood trickled downward. The hot salty smell exploded through the room. Iggy inhaled deep. His pupils dilated. He looked up and saw the majestic glowing color streaming out of the man, even more vibrant than the lights in the corridor. It was red. It was alive and luring him to the darkest parts of his mind that he'd never even known existed.
Then, his mind became dead silent. There was nothing to think about except for getting his body from where it was to where it needed to be. His hand gripped the floor and he pushed up. His limbs trembled, his legs took him forward. He was in even more pain, however unable to recognize it over the craving.
He was only inches away.
He gripped the side of the chair and pulled himself up onto his knees. His hands squeezed tight around the man's tight forearm. He could feel the thunderous pulse so easily through his beefy arm. Not needing to be shown, he opened his mouth and buried his teeth effortlessly into the man's flesh. His meat was soft. Delectable.
His blood swelled around Iggy's teeth and warmed his gums. The first drops fell onto his tongue and a blast of excitement surged through him. Carried away by the excitement, he bit down and heard the sharp splintering of bones beneath his mouth. The pain along his throat and stomach instantly vanished.
With his chest drowning in adrenaline, he felt the thrill of the moment, and also love. A lot of love. The sensation was nothing similar to orgasm or whatever, but the feeling of a longing having been met; a warm embrace; it was everything; the meaning; the goal; the reason for life. This was his place. It was natural. It was meant to be. His heart raced. He sucked hard, wanting it more than anything.
With each gulp, the pressure in the man's veins diminished in strength and the sensation tapered off with it. Panic eroded through the last few moments of excitement. Iggy sucked and sucked, but nothing could respark fireworks when the pressure was gone. Gloom descended all around him. The normal was back, and it was darker than it had ever seemed before.
Emi's palms pressed back on his shoulders, trying to unhinge him from the indents in the man's arm. Iggy was hooked into him, unable to wake up and let go. His mind was an empty room. There was no control, no thoughts. "Iggy…?" Her voice was distant. How many times she called his name, he didn't know. She pulled him back harder, stretching him away from the body. "Iggy… he's dead. The pressure is gone."
Iggy glimpsed the pale flesh and released him, finally. He tumbled backwards, tripping her back onto her rear, and falling against her knees and shins. There the man sat limp in the metal chair across from them. His fixed pupils settled on the opposite gray cement wall. The bitter salty urine spread over his lap. His skin was already waxy gray.
As Iggy observed the dead man, there was nothing more disturbing to him than the barbarous gnash that he had made in his arm. The inward waving of his forearm looked as if he was made of something soft and pliable, like clay. Iggy had cut into his bones easily with his sharps, and the strength in his fingertips alone was enough to cut into his muscle without effort. Little rivers of rusty red blood ran along the curves, and even seeing the color initiated a flutter of tremendous excitement through him, again.
He looked up, meeting Emi's bright face as she peered down on him adoringly. He tipped forward away from her, knelt onto his knees, and then faced her. She sat back holding herself up by the arms, staring, and waiting.
He leaned in to close the gap between them, but it wasn't enough. He crawled on top of her and aligned their faces. He licked her lips. Her tense muscles loosened and she fell back an inch. The thirst reflex was still strong, and even though he watched her intently like prey, he knew that the kind of nourishment that he needed wasn't what she could offer him.
It seemed like it was just the two of them until Nansen moved. His hands clasped one against the other in front of his upper abdomen and he leant forward. His eyes glimmered wet and dilated. "Good boy, Iggy," he praised. "Wasn't that fun? Aren't you happy? Now, you get to do that every night, for as long as you live."