CHAPTER 33: BRAIN FOOD

The lecture hall smelled like it always did... like dust and burned coffee. The smell hit her every time she walked into a new room or the wind shifted, and instead of fighting it every time, she just learned to accept it.

The creature inside of her, she still couldn’t bring herself to call it a zombie, had a thing for smells, and she wasn’t going to interfere.

Sera sat near the back. Not far enough to seem disinterested, but far enough to give herself space. One leg was crossed neatly over the other, her posture almost too perfect. Her spine was straight, her shoulders pulled back, and her arms rested lightly on the desk in front of her.

Her mother would have been so proud.

Around her, students slouched. Whispered. Typed. One guy in a beanie kept nodding off and jerking back awake every six minutes.

But she didn’t move.

She didn’t blink much, either.

Because the creature inside her was wide awake.

It didn’t stir like it did when danger was near. It didn’t growl or twitch with hunger. Instead, it... leaned forward. Curious. Engaged.

Her psych professor’s voice droned from the front of the room, monotone but steady.

"Today, we’re talking about identity formation. Who we are. How we know ourselves. Is it instinct? Is it shaped by memory, environment, or a reward system? What happens when you remove that context? In other words, who are you really underneath everything society has superimposed on you?"

Sera didn’t bother to take notes. She didn’t need to. The words were being absorbed like rain into parched soil by the thing under her skin.

This one is useful, the creature whispered inside her, forming words for the first time ever. Not food. Not threat. Keep this one.

Sera’s lips twitched. She had just gotten used to the ’ideas’ the creature would flash at her, but now it was speaking in two and three word sentences.

Great.

She also wondered how the professor would feel, if he knew that a zombie had placed him on a safe list for the upcoming apocalypse.

The professor clicked through a few slides about memory, trauma, childhood development. Her classmates yawned. But the thing inside her... it was still devouring every word. Like it had been starving for something other than meat.

And Sera... kind of got it.

Because this wasn’t about understanding others.

It was about understanding herself.

What made her—her? How much of her humanity was still real? How much of her personality was the girl she used to be... and how much was rewired, reconstructed, and reprogrammed by what Adam and Hydra did to her?

She glanced at her hand. Perfect skin. Normal veins. Steady, slow pulse. The makeup was still doing what it needed to do, but Sera knew that underneath the paint, it was a whole other story.

Then she glanced at the guy three seats down, who hadn’t stopped scratching his neck since the lecture began.

Her pupils narrowed. The creature hummed. And she forced herself to look away.

The class ended twenty minutes later. Most students scattered. Some lingered to flirt or whine about midterms. Sera slipped out silently, heading down the steps and out into the crisp winter air.

The sun was hiding again, tucked behind thick gray clouds that stretched low over the city. A few flurries swirled at the edges of the sidewalks but melted before hitting the ground.

She turned left and walked.

She didn’t have a destination. Not yet. Just forward motion. It kept her calm... to always be moving.

No. Supplies, the creature murmured. We are low on everything. Salt. Soap. Good smelling things. Sweets.

Sera’s eyebrows rose slightly. "Sweets?"

The square thing from last night. The small cube. You bit it, and the world became warm.

She frowned, then blinked. "The chocolate?"

Yes.

"You want chocolate."

Yes. There was no shame in its tone. Only certainty. Get the brown cubes. They bring peace.

Sera sighed, but couldn’t help the curl of her lips. "You realize you’re a mutated apex predator, and you’re begging me for a candy bar."

Peace is peace.

She chuckled under her breath and crossed the street toward the nearest corner market.

------

The bell over the door gave a rusty jingle as she entered. The place was warm and cramped, with uneven shelves and handwritten signs marking off "essentials" like pickles, dish soap, instant noodles, and batteries.

Sera grabbed a basket.

Toilet paper. A box of matches. A few cans of soup. Some dried meat sticks that wouldn’t go bad if the power went out. All routine.

Then she paused in the candy aisle.

Her fingers drifted over the glossy wrappers. Milk. Dark. Hazelnut. Caramel center. She grabbed a few at random and dropped them into her basket.

The creature didn’t move. Didn’t gloat.

It just purred.

She wandered to the back fridge for a carton of eggs. Then toward the frozen section for some veggies she could ignore. She paid in cash at the counter, offered a quick nod to the girl behind the till, and headed back out into the street.

There was a man playing guitar a few blocks down, open case collecting snowflakes. His music was soft. Bluesy. It made the air feel less sharp.

She walked slowly, the bag handles digging into her hands. She didn’t care. Pain was grounding.

Chocolate, the creature reminded her gently.

"In a minute."

She ducked into a nearby alley, shouldered open the back door of a maintenance stairwell, and climbed to the rooftop of the old theater. From up there, the city felt smaller. Tired.

The clouds were rolling faster now, but no snow came.

She sat down near the edge of the roof and pulled out one of the bars.

Unwrapped it slowly.

Bit into it.

The creature sighed in contentment. Like a cat sliding into a sunbeam. No bloodlust. No growling. Just... peace.

And for a moment, so did Sera.

They were still strangers to each other—occupants of the same body but different minds. But lately... it was easier. Like learning to breathe in tandem.

The creature liked food. It liked psychology. It liked feeling safe.

And Sera... liked not having to fight it all the time.

She stared down at the city, boots dangling over the edge of the rooftop.

"Is this what we are now?" she murmured. "A monster with a sweet tooth and a textbook?"

The creature didn’t answer.

But a warmth unfurled in her chest. Something not quite human, but more than definitely hers.