X-Men Fan Fiction ❯ Seven Deadly ❯ Glutttony ( Chapter 4 )

Seven Deadly

A X-Men Fanfiction

Written by RogueMoon

 

Chapter Four

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GLUTTONY: Consumption of immoderate amounts of food and drink; an inordinate capacity to receive or withstand something to the point of excess (ex. Glutton for punishment)

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A month and a half now, since the Devil saved him from the frozen hell. The surgery's were over. His sight back to what it was. His hearing restored. He was growing restless.

He wandered through the base, so familiar with it now he didn't even think about when to turn or what hall to take. He had free reign within the walls. The Devil's only restriction that he could not yet leave.

The Devil wanted to make sure he recovered fully. Would take no chances. He felt fine.

His feet took him to the kitchen. The cafeteria, really. It was a large facility. One of the Devil's largest. Most secure.

He had become a regular visitor. More so than anyone else.

Still sweating from his last workout, he grabbed a tray and piled it high with whatever looked appetizing. An apple, two ham and swiss on rye, Jello cup, cheese ravioli with pesto sauce, quart of milk.

He sat alone, downing the food without really tasting it. Going for seconds after disposing of the trash.

He ate so much more than he used to. Should have been gaining weight.

Worked out too much for that now. Five or seven hours a day.

The Devil found him in the cafeteria, going for thirds.

All he did lately was sleep, eat and work out. The Devil was concerned. Wanted to run some more tests.

All he wanted to do was eat. He followed the devil, bringing what he could carry with him, munching away. The food was gone all too quickly. He wasn't quite full. That was fine. He could eat again later.

The Devil sat him down. Asked him questions.

How long did he spend in the gym? Five or Seven hours a day.

How long of it was weights? One hour, as a warm up.

How long of it was weapon practice? One or two hours depending on how he felt.

How long of it did he use his mutation for target practice? The rest of the time.

How often did he sleep during the day? Six to Eight hours.

Total or at one time? Total.

Length of average interval? Two or Three hours.

How often did he eat? He didn't know. Hadn't really thought about it.

The Devil wanted him to think about. How often? A lot. He was always hungry lately.

The Devil poked and prodded him. Took more blood and other tissue samples. Temperature. Weight.

Weight was worrisome. He had lost five pounds.

He'd just eat more.

The Devil told him to cut down on the time in the gym for now. No more than four hours a day. And start a food journal. The Devil let him leave, notebook and pen in hand.

He was still hungry. He went back to the cafeteria, grabbed some more food. Went to start eating.

Stopped. Opened the journal. Started writing.

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Day: Tuesday

Time: 2:45pm

Food: Three bananas, large bowl of cereal (the generic brand with marshmallows you cheap bastard, spring for the name brand next time), ham and swiss on rye (again with being cheap, better cuts and expensive bread, si vous plait), red Jello cup (want green from now on), pint of skim milk (yum)

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Day: Tuesday

Time: 3:12pm

Food: Cheese ravioli (like these, keep them), another bowl of cereal (same as before), pint of skim milk

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Day: Tuesday

Time: 7:22pm

Food: T-bone steak (medium rare), baked potato (with everything), salad (if you can call the wilty leafy thing a salad), broccoli with cheese sauce (you can keep the cheap cheese for this. C'est bon), glass of water, glass of skim milk (you need to get some beer or wine or something down here, you're killing me with all the fruit juice and generic cola)

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Day: Tuesday

Time: 7:44pm

Food: Seconds on the steak, potato, broccoli and milk

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Day: Tuesday

Time: 11:33pm

Food: Midnight snack! Did you know they were hiding a blueberry pie in the back of that walk-in freezer? It was tres bon topped with a bowl of whipped cream. Hope you weren't looking forward to it, glass of water

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Day: Wednesday

Time: 2:05am

Food: Early breakfast. More of that cereal. Two bowls with milk and a pint of skim milk to drink with. Who does your food shopping? They should be shot. Seriously, let me do the shopping next time. We'll all eat better.

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Day: Wednesday

Time: 6:00am - on the dot even!

Food: Better breakfast. Three egg omelette. Denver style. Lots of peppers. I like peppers. Tabasco sauce for that kick your cooks can't seem to put into anything. Stack of pancakes. The silver dollar ones. Six of them drowned in maple syrup and butter. Glass of O.J., three glasses of skim milk, blueberry muffin. Cooks asked everyone about the pie. Told them I saw you in here last night on my way to the rec room. They shut up. Started baking a few more. Smells good.

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The Devil found him in the gym. Looked through the notebook. One page already filled. Called him over, weighed him, checked his heartbeat. Lost one pound over night, beat was steady, not yet rushed from exertion.

Blood test was done.

The journal was telling.

His metabolism had become accelerated for some reason. More tests would follow. Surgery possible.

No, he could not do the shopping. No, they would not buy the expensive foods. It was pointless when the 'cheap stuff' was just as healthy. Yes, they could get green Jello instead.

Leave his pie alone.

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End Chapter