He felt normal. Sounded normal. Looked normal but behind the illusion, the grand trick, he was anything but. Bright red beneath it all and not a lick of understanding as his head burned with pain once the morning eclipsed. He was humbled but still misinformed about walking under the hypnotic flare of a demon that was being lenient than before. In the morning on the ride to the local bakery, he walled the constant chain of words telling him to open up. To explore the nonsense that came with being a new hell lord of this realm. While many believe living in one of the darkest timelines of modern times, he was including the daze of memories in it as well. He walked in, antsy.

Constantly checking his watch. Fixing the cuff of his t-shirt. Tugging at the collar. Waiting for the double knot of a noose to pull him away. Energy spiked and depleted in waves. Breaking a sweat when his motions for the counter stalled. Hungry eyes and the pit of his stomach growled for more than sustenance. He was famished for a collection. A paid currency that money was no match for. The US dollar had little value to him and did the notion of being hungry for food. The closer he reached the counter, glass encased treats looked up at him. His turned gaze looked beyond it, through the otherwise where the tapping Voice, callous, and smooth, reached to pull him from ordering.

"Hi good morning, what would you like today?!" The clerk bellowed on from behind the counter. She stood in waiting for his order and was left confused.

Lyle followed a voice not of the clerk's and done so as if transfixed in a daze. Being sung to a delight that amplified the hunger he couldn’t quite place. It was wrapped in the bodies that were behind him. Encased in the vessels to his right waiting for their order of donuts. Right in front of him and across into the hive of the bakery. Throbbing with an essence unseen to mere mortals. Stepping back, the parched look upon his face he backed away and rushed the sweat from his forehead and paced away holding his hand up motioning of needing another minute. A patron went next, taking his place.

He cleared the throat. Tried to clear his palate of a dubious taste. Collect himself. Train his thoughts to go for the food he wanted. The dozen of donuts to feed his gut but there was more to it than food that suggested a need for anything other than that. Tight his throat got. Constricted his chest became and he looked off with a hand on his forehead. His hand trembled for a show. He was sure that other people around were watching him but there was only one.

There was the voice breaking against a barrier again. Only for Lyle to hear. In a vacuum it rustled against his canal, in his head and he shuddered. Letting go a quick breath. Lyleeeeeeeeeee. Morning you sexy beast. Think fast! What’s the first thing you have been craving?. He covered his eyes and walked back into a table with little attention being paid as he done so. A small child, innocent, unmarked by the world that was ready to chew him up and spit him out. The young child looked up at him, and sheer fright caught in the net of a very convincing horror by the eyes of a hellish delight reflecting in a flash.

The child immediately started crying, and ran to their parent clinging on as Lyle tried to look away quickly. He felt mad. Burdened by the flagrant voice in his head, eating away at any and all moral roots he held. The line was shrinking and he got closer well enough to still have a solid hankering for the pieces of nourishment one of an immortal craved. He saw in hallucination of the donuts from the other counter, growing mouths and singing in unison with the noise that was clearer than the garbling of nonsense he couldn’t wrap around as his own.

Donuts won’t sustain us amigo. They’re delicious, sure. Down right fattening and makes us feel oh so sweet inside. The real sweetness isn’t in confections. Look around....an entire serving to last us the week. Spell it out for me...

His head was crushing and its strain exposed upon his face the moment he got to the counter again. The clerk, held on a fake smile. Asking the question again, greeting with a kindness extended to every customer looking to fill their sugary needs. It was unfortunate that his, Lyle's or the episode of crazy couldn’t be filled in that moment. A peep of sweat appeared dotting across his forehead as he looked up. He began mumbling, looking for the word to fish for the answer to the taunting in his head to that of the selection of donuts. He slapped the counter, palm resting long enough to gather an ounce of composure.

"A dozen of everything. Please. We..I'm in a hurry," he spoke with urgency and turned to his side to rub away his face while the confused clerk went to gathering his order. Meanwhile he was left with his thoughts. Those of his own and shared. Confusing the senses as donuts were the last of a want on a palate he was sure to process differently. The singing commenced. Howling like a Rat Pack crooner to entice Lyle's senses to give in. To grasp at what he could easily feed himself with. He saw the clerk and tried searching the stench of corruption.

While the entire room could be turned, flipped inside out, Lyle's embark on wanting a box of donuts was turning into a test taste of games and potential destructive forces having a field day. He was presented with the box, and quickly found his wallet to pull out bills. Some large enough as a big tip. "Keep..the change. Thanks," he stuttered and grabbed at the box quickly. It wasn’t long before a rare but unforgettable reflection of the voice from his cranial matched the red face maven of mischief in the same glass counter where the sweets rested.

The curled smirk and yellow eyes brightened in a wavy image. Twisting his mustache as a cliché cartoon villain. An uncanny resemblance there and none of the memories that soured his morning would prepare him for the startled look pressed for a room of people to see. There was a yell from the back of the grown line and he shook from any hypnotic reflection that was confused for himself. Points and needle pricks of a new truth was going to fuel his week that started to crumble soon as he awakened. Still he was unable to rid of the craving he couldn’t bring himself to bring to life by a single word. Much by the clues pushed across the table, time was running out on denying an appetite for souls.