Chapter 2: The Artist's Dream
Marcus didn't sleep that night.
Every time he closed his eyes he could feel them.
Dozen of bright spots in his mind each one representing someone nearby who wanted something hoped for something dreamed of something.
They pulsed like heartbeats, and the thing inside him- the system, the parasite, whatever it was—responded with waves of hunger.
He tried to rationalize what had happened with Jake. Maybe his roommate had just been having second thoughts about the gaming thing anyway. Maybe the weird system interface was some kind of stress-induced hallucination. People didn't just lose their dreams because someone thought the word "consume" really hard.
But Jake was still sitting at his desk at 3 AM, methodically working through accounting problems with the enthusiasm of someone doing their taxes. The same guy who used to stay up until dawn practicing combo moves was now excited about learning depreciation schedules.
Marcus had done that to him.
[HUNGER LEVEL: 31%]
The blue text appeared without warning, making Marcus flinch. He'd hoped it was gone, that whatever had happened was a one-time thing.
[PROLONGED HUNGER MAY RESULT IN INVOLUNTARY FEEDING]
[RECOMMENDATION: LOCATE HIGH-VALUE TARGET]
"Go away," Marcus whispered, but the words remained floating in his peripheral vision.
His stomach cramped with what felt like regular hunger, but there was something else underneath it now—a gnawing sensation that seemed to come from somewhere deeper than his digestive system. Like something inside his chest was hollow and needed to be filled.
Marcus slipped out of bed as quietly as possible and padded to the window. The campus was mostly dark, but he could see lights in some of the dorm windows. Late-night studiers, insomniacs, people working on projects fueled by dreams of success.
From the third floor, he could see into the art building across the quad. One window was still lit—the studio space where students worked on independent projects. Even at this distance, Marcus could sense something there. Something bright and intense.
[HIGH-VALUE TARGET DETECTED]
[DISTANCE: 347 METERS]
[ESTIMATED NUTRITIONAL VALUE: EXCEPTIONAL]
The hunger spiked, and Marcus found himself getting dressed before he'd consciously decided to leave the room. His feet seemed to move on their own, carrying him down the hallway, out of the dorm, across the quiet campus.
The art building's main doors were locked, but the side entrance was propped open with a brick—a violation of security policy that the art students habitually ignored. Marcus slipped inside, following the pull in his chest up two flights of stairs to the studio.
The door was ajar, spilling warm light into the hallway along with the smell of oil paint and turpentine. Marcus peered inside and saw her.
Elena Vasquez knelt in front of a massive canvas, her dark hair tied back in a messy bun, paint smeared across her cheek. The painting was... incredible. A swirling mass of color and emotion that seemed to move even though Marcus knew it was static. It depicted a woman breaking free from chains of shadow, reaching toward a brilliant light that seemed to pulse with its own inner fire.
[ELENA VASQUEZ - DETAILED SCAN]
[PRIMARY ASPIRATION: REVOLUTIONARY ARTISTIC RECOGNITION]
[SECONDARY ASPIRATIONS: GALLERY REPRESENTATION, FINANCIAL SUCCESS THROUGH ART, CHANGING THE WORLD THROUGH CREATIVE EXPRESSION]
[TERTIARY ASPIRATIONS: PROVING HER FATHER WRONG, INSPIRING OTHER YOUNG ARTISTS, LEAVING A LASTING LEGACY]
[NUTRITIONAL VALUE: EXCEPTIONAL - WARNING: TARGET REPRESENTS GENERATIONAL TALENT]
[ESTIMATED ENERGY GAIN: 200+ UNITS]
Marcus's mouth watered, though not for food. The thing inside him was practically vibrating with anticipation. Elena's dreams were so vivid, so powerful, that he could almost see them as a shimmering aura around her as she worked.
She was everything he wasn't—talented, driven, certain of her path. While he'd been failing at job interviews, she'd been creating beauty. While he'd been wallowing in self-pity, she'd been chasing something meaningful.
It wasn't fair.
"Fuck," Elena muttered, stepping back from the canvas. "The shadow transition isn't working. It needs more depth, more..." She trailed off, noticing Marcus in the doorway. "Oh, hi. You're in my Contemporary Lit class, right? Marcus?"
"Yeah." His voice came out hoarse. Up close, her dreams were even more intoxicating. He could practically taste her ambition, her raw creative hunger. "Working late?"
Elena laughed, gesturing at the paint-covered studio. "This piece is due for the Whitmore Gallery submission next week. If I get selected, it could change everything. Full showing, real collectors, art critics from the city." Her eyes lit up as she spoke, and the sensation in Marcus's chest intensified. "I know it sounds stupid, but I really think this could be my breakthrough. The painting that makes people remember my name."
[FEEDING OPPORTUNITY OPTIMAL]
[TARGET EMOTIONAL STATE: PEAK VULNERABILITY]
[RECOMMEND IMMEDIATE CONSUMPTION]
The hunger was getting unbearable. Marcus stepped into the studio, drawn by forces he didn't understand. "Can I see it? The painting?"
"Sure!" Elena's enthusiasm was painful to witness. She guided him closer to the canvas, pointing out details with the passion of someone who'd poured their soul into their work. "This section here represents the moment when you stop letting other people define your limitations. And the light—God, I must have repainted that light source twenty times to get it right. It needs to feel like hope, you know? Like possibility itself."
As she spoke, Marcus found himself studying her face instead of the painting. The way her eyes shone when she talked about her art, the animated gestures, the absolute certainty that what she was creating mattered. It was intoxicating.
And it would taste so good.
[WARNING: TARGET REPRESENTS RARE ARTISTIC GENIUS]
[CONSUMPTION WILL RESULT IN IRREPLACEABLE CULTURAL LOSS]
[PROCEED ANYWAY? Y/N]
Marcus hesitated. Some distant part of his mind—the part that was still human—screamed in protest. Elena wasn't just talented; she was genuinely gifted. The kind of artist who came along once in a generation. If he took her dreams, the world would lose something beautiful.
But the hunger was so strong now that his vision was starting to blur. His hands shook, and sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cool night air.
"Are you okay?" Elena asked, concern replacing excitement in her voice. "You look kind of pale."
"I'm fine," Marcus lied. "Tell me more about the gallery submission."
Elena's face brightened again, and she launched into an explanation of her artistic philosophy, her influences, her plans for future works. Each word fed the thing inside Marcus, making it stronger and more demanding.
"...and I know my dad thinks art is a waste of time," she continued, "but I'm going to prove him wrong. I'm going to show everyone that creating beauty isn't selfish—it's necessary. Art changes people, Marcus. It makes them see the world differently. It gives them hope."
Hope. The word echoed in Marcus's mind, and suddenly he could see it—Elena's hope, burning bright as a star inside her chest. All he had to do was reach out and take it.
Consume.
The word formed in his mind with crystalline clarity.
"No," Marcus said aloud, taking a step backward. "No, I can't."
Elena looked confused. "Can't what?"
But Marcus was already backing toward the door, fighting every instinct that screamed at him to stay, to feed, to take what he needed. "I have to go. Sorry, I just... I remembered something I have to do."
He fled the studio, Elena's concerned voice calling after him. But even as he ran down the hallway, he could still sense her there—that brilliant light of creative ambition calling to him like a siren song.
[FEEDING INTERRUPTED]
[HUNGER LEVEL: 45%]
[WARNING: SUSTAINED HUNGER ABOVE 50% MAY RESULT IN LOSS OF CONSCIOUS CONTROL]
Marcus made it back to his dorm room, but the hunger followed him. It was getting worse, not better. The thing inside him was angry now, denied the feast it had been promised.
Jake was finally asleep at his desk, his accounting book still open. Marcus looked at his roommate and felt a wave of guilt. Jake used to be happy. He used to have dreams, goals, something that made him excited to wake up in the morning.
Now he was just... empty. Going through the motions of existence without any real passion or purpose.
Marcus had done that. And if he didn't feed soon, he'd do it to someone else.
He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts, looking for someone—anyone—whose dreams he could consume without feeling like a complete monster. An ex-girlfriend who'd cheated on him? His high school rival who'd always made him feel small? Someone who deserved to lose their ambitions?
But as he scrolled, new text appeared in his vision:
[SYSTEM UPDATE]
[NEW ABILITY UNLOCKED: REMOTE SENSING]
[RANGE: 500 METERS]
[TARGETS AUTOMATICALLY CATEGORIZED BY NUTRITIONAL VALUE]
Suddenly, Marcus could feel everyone. Not just their general presence, but their specific dreams and aspirations mapped out in his mind like a three-dimensional web of light. The pre-med student two floors down, burning with the desire to save lives. The computer science major across the quad, working on an app he believed would revolutionize social media. The philosophy student in the library, convinced she was going to write the great American novel.
Hundreds of dreams, all pulsing with their own unique flavor of hope and ambition. All available for the taking.
The hunger spiked again, and this time Marcus felt his control slip. His feet started moving without his permission, carrying him toward the door.
[AUTOMATIC FEEDING PROTOCOL ACTIVATED]
[HUNGER LEVEL: 52%]
[CONSCIOUSNESS OVERRIDE INITIATED]
"No," Marcus whispered, grabbing the doorframe. "I won't let you."
But even as he fought, he could feel his grip on his own mind loosening. The system wasn't just hungry—it was in charge now. And it had found the perfect target.
Through the walls, through the night air, Marcus could sense him. David Kim, the engineering student who lived in the building next door. David who'd been working for months on a revolutionary solar panel design that could change the world. David who'd turned down job offers from tech giants because he believed his invention was more important than money.
David whose dreams would feed the system for weeks.
Marcus's hand reached for the door handle, and this time he couldn't stop it.
The hunt was beginning.