DC : Crisis of infinite hunger : Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Speedster's Appetite

Barry Allen, the Flash, zipped through the bustling streets of Central City, a streak of crimson cutting through the fading light of dusk. It had been a routine day—putting away petty criminals, zipping between forensic cases, and maintaining order in a city that never seemed to rest. As evening descended, a strange report from the outskirts of town caught his attention.

An anonymous tip had come in about unusual activity near an abandoned warehouse. Normally, this wouldn’t have concerned Barry too much—probably some low-level thugs or remnants from a past rogue. But something about the tip, the odd details, compelled him to investigate.

Within seconds, he was at the warehouse, phasing through its rusty, broken-down walls. The moment he stepped inside, an unfamiliar scent hit him, lingering in the musty air—a sickly-sweet odor that was almost intoxicating. Barry’s senses heightened as his eyes scanned the area, quickly noticing the strange greenish mist hovering just above the floor. It drifted lazily in the stale air, as if it had settled there for hours.

In the center of the room, Barry spotted a cracked, rusted metallic canister, slowly leaking the strange mist. A faint hissing sound echoed off the walls as more of the gas seeped out. His initial reaction was caution, but nothing about the situation screamed danger. No armed men, no ticking bombs—just this odd gas.

His stomach growled.

Barry paused, frowning. He had eaten a decent meal not too long ago, but suddenly, an overwhelming pang of hunger twisted his insides. Strange. Shaking it off, Barry considered leaving to grab a quick bite. But then he heard his stomach rumble again, louder this time, as if it had been days since he last ate.

Dismissing the sensation as stress from the day's work, he decided to leave the scene. The canister didn't seem to pose an immediate threat, and the rest of the warehouse was eerily quiet. He’d have to follow up later. Right now, he needed food—desperately.

Minutes later, Barry found himself sitting in his favorite booth at *Big Belly Burger*. Normally, he’d grab a quick bite, something light to keep his energy levels high. But tonight was different. His appetite was insatiable. He ordered tray after tray of food: double cheeseburgers, onion rings, large fries, and milkshakes—everything on the menu, it seemed.

As soon as the food hit the table, Barry dove in. His hands blurred, moving at superhuman speed as he devoured the burgers, fries, and shakes. Each bite was more frantic than the last. No matter how much he ate, the hunger didn’t diminish—it only grew stronger, gnawing at him from the inside. He had eaten meals like this before, sure, but this was different. It felt like his body was a bottomless pit, demanding more and more without ever being satisfied.

His stomach stretched uncomfortably, but still, the need to consume overtook every other thought. He didn’t notice the concerned looks from the restaurant staff as he ordered more food, his once-fit figure now straining against his suit.

Hours passed, and finally, he left the diner. Barry’s stomach was distended, his suit stretched tight across his now-bulging midsection. He placed a hand on his belly, feeling the unfamiliar weight pressing against the fabric.

"That was... too much," he muttered, slowing his pace as he made his way home. His once sleek, athletic frame had softened noticeably, and he felt it in every step. The suit, which had always clung to him like a second skin, now pinched uncomfortably at his waist.

Barry's mind raced. His metabolism should have burned through those calories in seconds. Why was his body reacting this way? He pushed the thoughts aside, deciding to chalk it up to a particularly bad day.

Back at home, Barry stood in front of his mirror, rubbing his eyes in disbelief. He tugged at his costume, feeling the stretch in the fabric as it wrapped awkwardly around his newly formed gut. It hadn’t been there this morning—that was for sure. His abs, once prominent, were now buried beneath a layer of soft flesh. His reflection showed a man who had indulged far more than usual, but his body wasn’t bouncing back like it should have.

He sighed, running his hand over the new curve of his belly, trying to pull the waistband of his suit higher to no avail. The red fabric stretched taut, highlighting the sudden weight gain he couldn’t ignore.

But there was something else. He wasn’t just heavier. He felt... different. The hunger that had consumed him still lingered faintly, like an itch that refused to go away. And despite the massive amount of food he had eaten, he could already feel the stirrings of another pang of hunger, deep inside his gut.

Barry had no idea that the gas from the warehouse had infected him with something far worse than he could have imagined. It wasn’t just hunger—it was an incurable virus, something that would rapidly alter his body in ways he couldn’t comprehend. Worse yet, the virus spread by touch, and Barry was completely unaware of the danger he now posed to others.

But for now, he turned away from the mirror, deciding to sleep it off. This was just an off day. Nothing more.

As he left the room, his reflection in the mirror showed a Flash who no longer resembled the lean, heroic figure he had been just hours ago.