Neither the cold chill of night air nor the frosty snow that landed on my pale face was what woke me up from my deep slumber. It was the eminent hunger that dug itself so deep into my form that I could do nothing more than flash my wild eyes open. Pale hands, hands drained of blood, helped me lift myself up from the frosted ground, and I clenched my depleted stomach.
It felt like tiny demons had crawled down my throat and were trying to dig burrows into my gut. I couldn’t remember what had happened to make me this way. Could it have been that I hadn’t eaten in forever? Could it have been because of the person that had been following me for months? Did that man attack me? Why would he?
Ah. So many questions… They made my head buzz like a bee’s nest. While I listened to my uncontrollable thoughts, I scrambled my way slowly towards a scent.
It was such a beautiful smell like what one would expect to sense at a Thanksgiving celebration, but the only off thing about it was that it smelt nothing like turkey and gravy. It was a rich smell, a deep smell. It was slightly metallic and made my thoughts go straight to the many variations of the color red.
Weakly, hungrily, coldly, I made my way towards a home. It was a cozy place. A chimney spit out warm, gray smoke, and I could see people chattering about inside happily. Tiny bricks made up its one story hold, and a wooden porch led to a cute set up.
So starved that I couldn’t think, I raised my leg to take a step upwards but only could gape when my leg went straight through the wooden stairs. What had happened to me? Just as soon as the thought arose, it was washed away when a shocked person opened the door to gasp out at the sight of me.
I was sure that I looked rough, but I wasn’t exactly sure. I had had no idea that I was wearing nothing but tattered clothing that gaped to reveal a vast majority of my flesh. I’d not known that gashes had covered my entire form. I had no idea that I was paler than the snow and had lips bluer than the morning sky.
The male reached out to me in pity, but then that scent swept over me. I had no idea what I was doing, but I pulled him towards me and bit down cannibalistically into his arm’s flesh. A moan of pleasure swept through my body and out of my lips as his warmth flooded me like an ocean wave. I could hardly feel his attempts to pull away from me or hear his family’s screams. Then, I dropped his completely empty form and looked up at his people. They were like succulent oranges just ripe for the picking, and I picked them all to suck them dry.
It wasn’t long before I was inside of the house and staring down at what I had done. I couldn’t cry. The idea never occurred. I could only stare. What had I done?
Four bodies were displayed in front of me. I had drained them of color, of blood, and of life. All of those things had been taken from them then placed into me. My color had returned with the first bite, and my blood had flowed with the first taste. Also, my life had been restored after the first death.
I gripped my head with both hands and fell to my knees. Finally, the idea to cry occurred, but I was immediately disgusted at the sight of my pink tears. Water mixed with blood. Yes, they were what poured from my eyes as I screamed and thrashed.
“What the hell have I done?” I screamed before sinking my claws that had once been cutely manicured nails into the carpet. Instead of just going to hit the carpet, I could only hate myself when I punched holes into the floor with each of my fingers. My body quaked like the earth along fault lines, and I screamed towards the floor.
I sensed a presence but didn’t move to see it. I was sure that it was another person that I would soon kill in this violent outrage. Sure to my assumption, the person behind me dropped something heavy to the floor then turned to run. They were going away from me… to tell on me for something I couldn’t bring back.
Instead of capturing the creature to suck him or her to the core, I just continued to stare at the floor. It was decorated in little pink-red pools like someone had liquefied roses and dripped them against the carpet. How sickening. I was finding beauty in this freakish creation that I had become.
Gulping down hard, I squeezed tight my eyes and rose. What was I to do? The cops were going to come soon. I was positive that the person would run to a neighbor or something to cry out for help… to say that a murderer was on the streets. Murderer, that love forsaken word now applied to me. To me!
I had been such a simple girl, a happy and stupid college girl. I went out on all times of the day and night just to party and get drunk. I’d laughed at humorless jokes and grew angry at silly things. Now, instead of being disappointed in myself for stealing a drug test from a grocery store, I was disappointed in myself for stealing a person’s life right out of their body.
My heart hurt, but I couldn’t afford to be caught. I would probably hurt someone with my new strength. When the police sirens came, I turned towards the back door of the house. Snagging one of the coats hung up on the coatrack, I shook my pink tears away from my eyes and darted into the snowing backyard.
© Copyright 2016 Bridget Shayde. All rights reserved.
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