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Language:
English
Series:
Part 1 of Tumblr Tidbits
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Published:
2014-11-02
Words:
471
Chapters:
1/1
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6
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21
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Meat

Summary:

Quick and gross short about Kaz' 'quality' accommodations during his capture in TPP.

Notes:

Written to drop in Novi's inbox for my amusement and very vaguely polished up for posting here.

 

original is here

Work Text:

There was almost no real meat on a finger, it was just bones, sinew, fat and skin. It was also all he was getting. They weren’t wasting food on a prisoner, instead they’d given him a ‘handful’ of his severed knuckles.

There was no choice if Kaz meant to live long enough to get out of this hell hole. Dehydration was what usually got people in these situations, but his captors had deemed fit to give him just enough to keep things slow.

It was hard not to gag knowing it was his own flesh, but hunger took care of most of it. The taste of his blood and the motions of chewing on the bone distracted from his stomach gnawing away at itself and the dulled ache where his fingers ought to have been.

They'd only come off earlier that day, removed joint by joint. His throat was still raw from screaming.

He tried to swallow, get down whatever skerricks he'd managed to work off the bone. It was mostly saliva and threatened to come back up again almost immediately. The rising bile burned against the raw meat of his throat.

He stopped and waited for his guts to settle. Kaz kept it slow, he needed to keep it down and to make it last. The bones wouldn't do much to sustain him, but who knew when his next meal would be?




Kaz’ next meal came sooner than expected. It took a couple of days and it was definitely another piece of himself, but it was far easier this time.

His arm had actual meat on it and it’d been roasted. Knowing what it was didn’t hold up against the smell of fresh cooked meat to a starving man. No matter how sick it was, he’d begun to salivate at the first whiff of it starting to roast over the fire.

Hot, juicy and fresh... They’d gone as far as to drop it in the dirt and even that couldn’t deter him. His captors laughed at how quickly he jumped on it. Ripping into the moist, tender meat and so eagerly devouring his own flesh.

Juices from the meat dripped down his chin and his remaining fingers, sticking to his beard and his neck, as he stripped his arm to the bone. Trying to take in every scrap so it wouldn't go to waste.

Kaz almost lost the meal as quickly as he’d taken it, his guts rebelled against the first real meal it’d taken in so long. Not because of what it was, but because eating anything substantial had almost become alien to his stomach. Forcing himself to take all of it didn't help, but he couldn't afford to waste it. If he lived through this, he'd make the loss worth it.

Kaz didn’t eat again for a week.

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