Disclaimer; Rust Blaster and all associated characters, designs and plot belong to the original creators and publishers. I own nothing except the story below.


Aldred's throat burns.

Fingers are scratching the inside of his mouth, wiping away all moisture until every breath brings a rattling feeling to his throat. He needs to drink, and there is a sort of restlessness that comes with the desire.

He cradles a carton of milk in his fingers; he tears the top open. And Aldred drinks. He swallows until the tiny carton is devoid of all liquid, and then he reaches for another. He drinks and drinks and drinks until the thirst is satiated and his stomach feels like it is going to burst.

Five minutes later, the thirst starts back up again.


Water doesn't help. And neither does milk.

The thirst is gnawing at his throat like a swarm of hungry insects and Aldred feels like he's dying.

His father places a carton in his hand.

Aldred bites into it, not bothering to read the label. He does not realize what he has been given until the packet is done, and the sickly sour taste permeates his mouth.

Blood.


And it still isn't enough.