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The Hunt

He found himself again in the camp he had preferred to frequent in weeks before her turning.. And again he moved in darkness and silence through the place.. seeking to fill the void within him.

Those here stank.. As they always had, the grime and filth of the life they lived hung about the entire place, and tainted the hunt. It drove old familiar violent feelings to the top.. the feeling that these things were little more then chattel, meant to die for his continued existence.. That hurting them.. Tormenting them might somehow ease the pain that swirled within him.

He watched two as they spoke, his eyes fixed to them from within the shroud. The world around them was dim, absent.. but still he could hear their hearts, see their movement.. Feel the blood rushing through their veins. It had simply been too long. Much too long since he had been what he truly was.

Killer. Monster.

The soft glow illuminated the blackened world.. Casting a red sheen on the blackness that separated them.. The thirst was strong, the burning in his throat overwhelming twisting with the misery of her rejection..

He slipped from the shadows, seizing one from behind as he dragged him back into the darkness, the shadows swirling all around them as they lingered in the blackness between the worlds.. His teeth sunk deeply, the warm rush at once easing the burn.. easing the pain.. making it all seem so distant.. so far from where he was..

The form gripped in his arms began to slacken, yet still he drew, lost in the moment the torment, the temporary fleeting reprieve it was all he could think of to drain this husk, and toss it aside. To take another.. Another.. Another.

To kill every living thing in this place, in vain attempt to fill the emptiness..

At once his grip loosened, the shadows swirling around the limp form as it tumbled back into the world of colour.. His own breath coming habitually, cold as the crimson light slowly bled from his eyes, the blackness around him separating the soft heartbeat of the man from him..

Even -this- cold comfort.. Even -This- was taken from him now..

He couldn’t even be the monster.. He laughed at the black humour of it..

She had made him wish to be a Man.


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