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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Duphonse on 2024-10-30 12:19:36+00:00.
Authorsnote: Been awhile since the last writing. Struggling to write where it's always easier to just turn on tiktok or netflix and just brainrot. But this clawed its way out. It feels slightly unfinished but is meant as a standalone. Please enjoy reading, any feedback and advice is always appreciated. Have a great week ahead.
BEGIN
Daniel Tillson was gorgeous as a baby. His stubby fingers and somewhat chunky limbs made others openly smile when they saw him. He didn’t cry as often as his elder siblings and seemed more aware of his surroundings. The easiest baby Mummy Tillson had so far.
Her only complaint was that he suckled far more often than her first child, leaving her sore and tired. She often joked to her husband that she had given birth to a little piglet, chuckling through the pain as Daniel latched on for yet another feeding.
Daniel Tillson was adorable as a toddler. His stumpy steps and chubby arms made passerby grin when Daddy Tillson took him for ‘walks.’ The bunny-ear hat he wore helped too, as ladies rushed over to coo at him. Mummy Tillson sometimes suspected Daddy Tillson volunteered for walking duty more for the attention than the exercise, but she let it slide. She was forgiving.
He was inquisitive, though, often causing nightmares for his parents. Daddy Tillson screamed for the first time in his life upon discovering Daniel five feet above the ground, scaling the wardrobe where Mummy Tillson had hidden the snacks. His climbing skills were prodigal, which meant no treat was ever truly out of reach. Mummy Tillson lost three family vases that year (Sorry, Grandma).
Daniel Tillson was round as a tween. His fondness for food had made him rotund, and he could always be found with a snack hidden in some fold of cloth. His friends, whenever feeling peckish, could rely on a proffered hand from Daniel holding a buttered bun or a sugary treat.
While other kids his age were obsessing over gadgets or each other, Daniel obsessed over cuisine, experimenting with bizarre combinations that usually didn’t taste as good as they looked (No, it only looked like steak). But he never stopped trying to create something new, always pushing for the next big dish.
Daniel Tillson was scrawny as a teen. An unfortunate overindulgence with a tray of butter buns had soured his love for food, and he turned his obsessive nature toward gaming instead. He played for hours on end, diving deep into virtual worlds where he could compete. He was good, but not great. He always came close to the top but never quite reached it. It gnawed at him, that gap between “good” and “the best.”
One night, while squatting on the roof, sneaking a cigarette (totally underage), Daniel spotted the new girl next door. She was a gamer too, and her streams were popular. She was the best. He felt the pull of competition and something more—desire. He wanted to be as good as her. No, he wanted to be better. He wanted to be the best.
Daniel Tillson was restless as a young man. He streamed endlessly, mixing his childhood love for food with his gaming prowess, hoping to find success in this fusion. His viewers grew, and soon he had a steady following. But it wasn’t enough. The girl next door? She had thousands more followers, more sponsorships, more fame. He wanted that. He needed it. More viewers, more fame, more everything.
But no matter how hard he worked, how many hours he streamed, it never filled the emptiness inside him. He wanted something bigger—something that would finally make him feel like he had arrived. Then he saw the military recruitment ads. Conflict was brewing overseas, and the army was looking for people with drive and determination. This was it. War was the ultimate competition, the ultimate test of skill, courage, and leadership.
Without hesitation, Daniel enlisted.
Daniel Tillson was fierce as a soldier. Basic training was grueling, but his stubborn drive pushed him through. Where others struggled, Daniel excelled. His commanders saw his potential, and soon he was promoted, climbing the ranks just as he had climbed those childhood wardrobes. But it wasn’t enough. It never was. Daniel craved more responsibility, more recognition, more victories on the battlefield. War, to him, became just another game, another ladder to climb.
He fought hard, earning medals and commendations. His name was spoken in hushed tones by his comrades—some admired him, others feared him. But no matter how many missions he completed, how many promotions he received, Daniel still felt the gnawing emptiness. The victories came, but they never lasted. He always needed the next one.
Years passed. The wars dragged on, but something else was coming. Whispers of unidentified objects in the sky turned to televised reports of contact with alien forces. At first, the governments of Earth tried to hide it, but soon there was no denying it—the aliens were here, and they weren’t friendly. Entire cities vanished overnight, consumed by colossal ships that appeared from the clouds, and the military scrambled to mount a defense.
Daniel Tillson was relentless as a middle-aged man. With every new conflict, he threw himself into the front lines. The enemy was like nothing he had ever seen—alien technology, advanced weaponry, tactics that made Earth’s armies seem outdated. But to Daniel, it was just another opponent to defeat, another war to win. His hunger for victory grew stronger with each mission, each desperate battle.
He found himself in a war zone unlike any before—an evacuation mission in a city that was crumbling under the alien attack. The skyline had been reduced to rubble, and the air buzzed with the sound of their ships overhead. His unit was tasked with extracting civilians before the next bombardment.
The helicopter’s rotors chopped loudly through the thick, smoke-filled air as it hovered above the crumbling city. His team had already loaded the chopper to capacity, and they were ready to take off.
But something made him pause.
Through the chaos, his sharp eyes spotted movement below—a figure stumbling through the rubble. A single refugee. A child, by the looks of it, covered in dust and limping toward what was left of a crumbling street.
"Sir! We’re full! We have to go!" the pilot shouted over the roar of the chopper.
But Daniel didn’t hear him, or didn’t care. His gaze locked onto the child. He could save one more. One more person. Just one more. The thought gnawed at him, as if this one last act could fill the void that had haunted him for decades. One more would make it all worth it. Wouldn’t it?
Without thinking, Daniel dropped his rifle, unhooked his harness, and stepped off the chopper. He landed with a heavy thud on the broken ground, his knees aching from years of wear and tear. The rotors whirred above, but he barely noticed. He broke into a sprint, pushing through the smoke and debris, toward the child.
The pilot yelled after him, "Sir, we can’t wait!"
But Daniel didn’t stop. The child was close now, closer. He reached out, grabbing the boy by the arm and lifting him, running back toward the helicopter. The rotors spun faster, the assist’s hand outstretched, waiting to pull them aboard.
Daniel shoved the child toward the open door. Hands reached down and lifted the boy into the helicopter. The child’s wide eyes met Daniel’s for a brief moment, confusion and fear mixing in his gaze.
Daniel took a step back. There wasn’t room for both of them. He knew it. The chopper was overloaded, the engine straining.
As the door began to close, Daniel caught the pilot’s gaze in the rearview mirror. The pilot glanced at him through the reflection, eyes heavy with understanding. Then, slowly, he gave Daniel a nod—one of acknowledgment. A thumbs up and the door slammed shut before the helicopter rose into the sky, taking the child to safety. Daniel stood there, watching it disappear into the smoke-filled horizon. His breath came in short, ragged bursts, the sound of alien ships buzzing closer, the ground shook beneath him.
He had saved one more. He had made the choice.
But as the alien ships loomed overhead, their shadows swallowing the ruins around him, Daniel felt the familiar emptiness return. He grinned as he turned towards the city, he had to feed the void.