Mythos Effect

A True Monster

"Alive for another Spirits dammed day..." Corporal Gerran Setus muttered, doing his best to ignore he ignore the emptiness in his stomach. It was his turn in the kitchen and wasn't that just a kick to the face. Cooking their meager rations was torture, plain and simple. It was only the threat of the quartermaster putting a bullet in his head and then cooking him that stopped the soldier from stealing the rations. Not like he hadn't thought about eating a bullet and ending it himself, but so far he had managed to fight the urge. He wasn't sure the rest of the troops would complain about eating his corpse at this point, but he wouldn't be quitting like that. Not yet at least... Maybe tomorrow.

Damn the NEF and the imbeciles that insist on fighting this cursed war. He hoped Sparatus choked to death on one of those cocktails the bastard must be enjoying in the Citadel.

The corporal stifled a yawn as he walked into the cafeteria and he froze in his tracks. What Gerran saw inside convinced him that he finally lost his mind.

The tables were covered in all manners of food. The smell hit his nose. Spirits, it was divine. The mien fruit sauce over the fried saken meat. Chopped vegetables, tropical fruits, cold beer, and all manner of desserts were spread before him. Gerran felt his eyes water in joy but he didn't move, afraid of waking up.

That wasn't a problem for the squadron of turian that came in just behind him.

"SPIRITS! IT'S A MIRACLE!" a soldier cried, pushing Gerran aside and running in like a madman. That snapped the corporal out of his stupor just in time to watch the soldier start shoving the food into this mouth with wild abandon.

"Ternak! Wait! It could be a trap!" one of his companions shouted, having regained enough self-control to doubt the scene before him.

"Trap my ass! This tastes amazing!" Ternak shouted gleefully, shoving a piece of steak into his mouth and washing it with some cold beer. "The Spirits finally answer our prayers! HAHAHAHA!"

Noticing Gerran's disturbed expression toward the unstable turian, the leader of the group spoke. "He... hasn't been the same since his squad was wiped out a few weeks back," he said lamely, walking towards one of the tables.

Gerran walked inside along with the other soldiers. All hopeful, but cautious. This was too good to be true. Either it was a trap, or they all collectively lost their minds. Most didn't care much as they took bites of the food.

It was real.

The rich taste was almost overwhelming after days of meager military rations. He couldn't stop himself. Gerran teared up as he slowly savored the food for what felt like an eternity. All the plates brought memories of the past with them. Family dinners, dates, parties, and all manner of good times were tied to the delicious flavors that graced their tongues. He took a large swig of a beer he used to drink with his father when the dream ended.

The beer turned warm and gained a metallic taste. Gerran's eyes snapped open and he dropped the bottle as it burned him. The liquid had gained the purplish color of turian blood. All the food in front of them had rotted away, filled with all manners of poisonous critters. The satisfaction he had felt moments ago was replaced by the returning void of hunger as if the food had vanished from his stomach.

"Nonononono! No! This can't be! No one can't be this cruel!" one of the other turians cried out as he looked through the piles of rotting and disappearing food for something else to eat.

It was indeed a trap. Gerran didn't want to believe it. He was willing to eat the bugs after these miserable weeks, but they too soon turned to dust.

"Wow, we really broke you. I can't believe you birds fell for that."

Gerran froze, head whipping around and looking at the owner of the voice. Leaning against one of the pillars was a female Huey in NEF armor. She looked at them with a mixture of amusement and pity.

"Who are you!? How did you get in here!?" The leader of the soldiers said, pulling his gun at her with anger in his eyes. The kind of anger one felt when hope had been ripped from their grasp.

"Lieutenant Serena Hernandez," the woman said with a mock salute. "Parapsychic Corps. Specialized on illusions and senses manipulation," she said with a bow. The Huey turned to the trembling Ternak with a contemplative look. "Hmmm, you look familiar. Weren't you on the squad I attack weeks back? The one where I made your friends shoot each other?" she asked as if talking about a movie and not a tragedy.

"A caster," the leader hissed with disgust, making everyone tense. This was one of the most powerful enemies the Federation had at their disposal and they had nothing that could stop her.

"That's what you call us? Fitting, I suppose," Serena mused, ignoring the simmering anger of the impotent soldiers.

"You bitch! GIVE IT BACK!" Ternak yelled, throwing caution to the wind and launching at her with wild ferocity. Whatever his plan was it failed as he phased right through her and slamming against the wall.

"Ternak!"

The Huey looked more amused than anything else. "Yeah, sorry about that, but I'm not actually here. Illusionist, remember?"

"DAMN YOU!" a female turian screamed, firing at her with her pistol. "DIE YOU DEMON!"

"... I just said I'm not here," the Huey muttered as the bullets slammed on the wall behind her.

"Kalenna, stop!" the leader shouted at his subordinate.

Serena just waved it off. "Oh, by all means, keep shooting if it makes you feel better. It was a bit of a cruel joke, I suppose."

Everyone froze.

"A joke," Gerran whispered before something in him snapped. "This... This is a joke to you?! You gave us food and took it away! Why!?"

Serena shrugged. "Well, I was bored. You guys don't surrender and slamming artillery on your bunkers gets boring after a while. Can't blame a girl for looking for some fun," she said with a mocking smile

Gerran had killed dozens of the monsters the Hueys had sent against him. Watched as old friends had been torn to pieces by living nightmares. Had seen hardened veterans break down crying after days of impotence and hunger. And yet this cursed female in front of him, smiling at him like an Asari that knew a joke he didn't, was the evilest and most disgusting creature he had ever seen in his life.

"I will kill you," he said in a cold voice. "I swear to all the Spirits and gods out there that I will kill you!" he screamed at her, memorizing all of her features to fulfill his promise.

"Gods, huh? Be careful with the ones you pick," she said, not losing her amusement. "I look forward to your attempts on my life but you need to survive starving to death first." The damn caster stretched her arms and pulled something from behind her.

A sandwich. The bitch took a bite of her meal, giving a moan of pleasure as a final insult. She gave them a half-lidded smile and waved.

"Well, I have places to be and birds to torture. Ciao!" She said and with a flash, she vanished. The cafeteria seemed to blink before there was no trace of food in the room. Only the holes in the wall and a sobbing Ternak were the only proof that the events had happened.

As the soldiers numbly moved to help their crying comrade, Gerran no longer felt hunger. Burning anger filled him with more sustenance than anything else ever could. He didn't care about the war or the rest of the humans.

He just wanted that bitch dead.