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sga_flashficTitle: Insatiable
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
beaniesheppard
Words: ~750
Sin: Gluttony
Info: Conversion missing scene
Summary: Hunger. Painful, unrelenting hunger...
Beta:alaskhah
Insatiable
Hunger. Painful, unrelenting hunger.
That was what had driven him to this; had made him flee his room by the dangerous route he’d used. Had made him balance precariously on the railings of his balcony and climb over. Had driven him to traversing hundreds of feet up around the outside of the spire in the dark to climb in through an unguarded window, one where he wouldn’t be seen. There were small mercies to what was happening to him – he’d have never achieved this in his normal form. Then again, he wouldn’t have had to stage an escape in the first place.
The hunger urged him on as he risked his very life, being seen by any number of armed personnel as he hid in the shadows of the halls, trying to go unnoticed. Was it worth this much just to eat? The remaining human part of him said that he should have waited, waited for one of the marines to open the door and lay the tray on the side. Wait for a meal that would neither satiate the growling of his stomach, nor satisfy the increase in his metabolism from the changes being made to his body.
He managed to effect entry to the mess with ease. Even as the hybrid he now was, Atlantis still recognised him. Entering the kitchen, all pretence of manners, even humanity, was pushed aside as animal instinct kicked in. Throwing the refrigerator door open, he grabbed the first thing he saw - a bowl of mashed potato – and began scooping it out and shovelling it into his mouth. That finished, he dropped the bowl to the floor, a loud clang echoing through the room. Luckily, this area of the city seemed fairly soundproof. He gave it no further thought as he continued to consume item after item, a small pang of guilt that he was stealing the pleasures of home from his friends pushed down as something else was shoved into his mouth.
As a human being, he’d have long since been so full it hurt, yet his body still craved more nourishment. As fast as he ate, he seemed to burn it off. He doubted even McKay, who was a human trashcan on a good day, was capable of this level of gluttony. He continued his feast, tucking into the remainder of a turkey that the cafeteria staff had cooked up when he and several others had requested the delicacy that was his favourite food – turkey sandwiches. He’d sneaked in many a time to help himself to some after hours, finding them ready-made in a bag with his name on. The cook had obviously gotten wise to the disappearing ingredients. A small smile formed on his greyed lips as he continued to ravage the bird.
“Sir…you need to come with us. Now!”
He heard the loading of a P-90 and turned to find a team of marines standing in the doorway, pointing wraith stunners at him. They were eying the mess with a mixture of annoyance and pity. Angry at being deprived by their leader, but realising that his now-animal ways were something he couldn’t entirely help or control.
John Sheppard stood up in the middle of the disaster zone he’d created and defiantly ripped the last of the meat away from the bones, discarding the carcass into the mass of bowls, paper and residual food. He glared menacingly at them as he tore part of the white flesh away with his teeth and swallowed without chewing.
“Sir, please don’t make us shoot you. Not while there is hope for a cure…”
The marine held a pleading expression, pained by what was happening to his commanding officer. He knew that with his increased strength and speed, he could probably easily overpower the men before him, make a run for it. He could even take a few bullets into the bargain, would heal. He mused for a moment at how many would be needed to kill him, thought back to encounters with the Wraith and how many shots he’d pumped into one from his various weaponry.
As he gulped down the remainder of the turkey in his mutated hand, one cat-like eye on the marines, he wondered how long it would be before conventional food wouldn’t satiate the hunger. Before his body would transform to the point where he’d need to feed, and feed in the only way possible for what he was becoming...
Author:
beaniesheppardWords: ~750
Sin: Gluttony
Info: Conversion missing scene
Summary: Hunger. Painful, unrelenting hunger...
Beta:
alaskhahInsatiable
Hunger. Painful, unrelenting hunger.
That was what had driven him to this; had made him flee his room by the dangerous route he’d used. Had made him balance precariously on the railings of his balcony and climb over. Had driven him to traversing hundreds of feet up around the outside of the spire in the dark to climb in through an unguarded window, one where he wouldn’t be seen. There were small mercies to what was happening to him – he’d have never achieved this in his normal form. Then again, he wouldn’t have had to stage an escape in the first place.
The hunger urged him on as he risked his very life, being seen by any number of armed personnel as he hid in the shadows of the halls, trying to go unnoticed. Was it worth this much just to eat? The remaining human part of him said that he should have waited, waited for one of the marines to open the door and lay the tray on the side. Wait for a meal that would neither satiate the growling of his stomach, nor satisfy the increase in his metabolism from the changes being made to his body.
He managed to effect entry to the mess with ease. Even as the hybrid he now was, Atlantis still recognised him. Entering the kitchen, all pretence of manners, even humanity, was pushed aside as animal instinct kicked in. Throwing the refrigerator door open, he grabbed the first thing he saw - a bowl of mashed potato – and began scooping it out and shovelling it into his mouth. That finished, he dropped the bowl to the floor, a loud clang echoing through the room. Luckily, this area of the city seemed fairly soundproof. He gave it no further thought as he continued to consume item after item, a small pang of guilt that he was stealing the pleasures of home from his friends pushed down as something else was shoved into his mouth.
As a human being, he’d have long since been so full it hurt, yet his body still craved more nourishment. As fast as he ate, he seemed to burn it off. He doubted even McKay, who was a human trashcan on a good day, was capable of this level of gluttony. He continued his feast, tucking into the remainder of a turkey that the cafeteria staff had cooked up when he and several others had requested the delicacy that was his favourite food – turkey sandwiches. He’d sneaked in many a time to help himself to some after hours, finding them ready-made in a bag with his name on. The cook had obviously gotten wise to the disappearing ingredients. A small smile formed on his greyed lips as he continued to ravage the bird.
“Sir…you need to come with us. Now!”
He heard the loading of a P-90 and turned to find a team of marines standing in the doorway, pointing wraith stunners at him. They were eying the mess with a mixture of annoyance and pity. Angry at being deprived by their leader, but realising that his now-animal ways were something he couldn’t entirely help or control.
John Sheppard stood up in the middle of the disaster zone he’d created and defiantly ripped the last of the meat away from the bones, discarding the carcass into the mass of bowls, paper and residual food. He glared menacingly at them as he tore part of the white flesh away with his teeth and swallowed without chewing.
“Sir, please don’t make us shoot you. Not while there is hope for a cure…”
The marine held a pleading expression, pained by what was happening to his commanding officer. He knew that with his increased strength and speed, he could probably easily overpower the men before him, make a run for it. He could even take a few bullets into the bargain, would heal. He mused for a moment at how many would be needed to kill him, thought back to encounters with the Wraith and how many shots he’d pumped into one from his various weaponry.
As he gulped down the remainder of the turkey in his mutated hand, one cat-like eye on the marines, he wondered how long it would be before conventional food wouldn’t satiate the hunger. Before his body would transform to the point where he’d need to feed, and feed in the only way possible for what he was becoming...
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