didn’t comprehend, she knew what she needed to do and her body slipped effortlessly into the killing mode. She felt her nails become longer and sharper, like the talons of a hawk or eagle. They slipped easily into the flesh of the animal, slicing it open. She felt the elongation as well as the increased sharpness of her incisors with her tongue. The wolf’s warm blood flowed over her fingers and she could smell it. She could smell the life within the animal’s blood and she wanted it.
The smell of the blood was sweet, provocative and inviting. It drove her to an immediate madness—a near obsession for the liquid. She must have it now her mind screamed and she buried her face into the animal, her teeth and nails easily separating the flesh and exposing the veins and arteries where the blood flowed. She drank deeply feeling the animal’s warmth flow through her. It was invigorating beyond words. Her body responded to the blood as it made her feel…reborn.
As the animal neared death, she felt the change in its blood. It began to taste bitter and sour instead of sweet. Her instincts told her to stop: that there was danger in drinking the blood so close to death. The urge to continue was strong, but she dropped the carcass on the ground. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve and saw the blood that came away. She stared at the blood with no remorse, no revulsion. This was life, her life and she gladly accepted it.
Life. She was now a part of life that included the stories she had heard as a child about the creatures that owned the night. She wondered how it would be, not being able to see the light of day any longer. Would she adjust? Of course she would. Like anything else, there were advantages to her new self as well as disadvantages, but most importantly, she was able to control her own destiny from this point on. If the myths were true, she would no longer feel cold, heat, pain or hunger as a human would. All of these would now become inconsequential, as would the emotion of love. She was dead for all practical purposes, and with it, she had buried any hope for love or human life, at least for the time being.
For now, she had to decide where she would go. Which direction would she go? Back toward the town or away? She turned in the moonlight as if trying to sense what direction to take. While doing so, she caught a glimpse of something on the ground. She walked toward it and saw it was a piece of paper with a rock on top of it to keep it from blowing away. She bent over and picked it up. Although it was dark except for the moonlight, she discovered it was quite easy for her to see in the reduced light. She smiled at this ability as she observed the scrawled words in a rough handwriting.
I misjudged you. I sought to make you cherish life, the human life, by bringing you to the brink of death—to feel the emptiness and coldness as compared to the fullness and warmth of life. But instead, you gave it up willingly, and took from me what I would never have given freely.
You are an evil woman as well as a fool. You believe this life will be better then death? It will appear so in the beginning, but its joys will wane quickly as you remember what you could have had in a normal life. I was taken without a choice and have often begged for death. But I have accepted my fate and tempered this life with caution and indifference in order to survive over the years, hoping that meaning will come to me. I still wait after many years to find it.
As for you, I would have killed you for what you did, but by the time I had recovered, you had turned and we don’t kill our own. Yes, there is a bizarre and perverse code by which we conduct ourselves in contrast to the solitary lives we choose to live. Our kind generally keeps to themselves: We’re territorial, I guess you might say. You may never meet another like you and so you may have nothing but solitude for company for the rest of the nights of your life, unless you choose the
The smell of the blood was sweet, provocative and inviting. It drove her to an immediate madness—a near obsession for the liquid. She must have it now her mind screamed and she buried her face into the animal, her teeth and nails easily separating the flesh and exposing the veins and arteries where the blood flowed. She drank deeply feeling the animal’s warmth flow through her. It was invigorating beyond words. Her body responded to the blood as it made her feel…reborn.
As the animal neared death, she felt the change in its blood. It began to taste bitter and sour instead of sweet. Her instincts told her to stop: that there was danger in drinking the blood so close to death. The urge to continue was strong, but she dropped the carcass on the ground. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve and saw the blood that came away. She stared at the blood with no remorse, no revulsion. This was life, her life and she gladly accepted it.
Life. She was now a part of life that included the stories she had heard as a child about the creatures that owned the night. She wondered how it would be, not being able to see the light of day any longer. Would she adjust? Of course she would. Like anything else, there were advantages to her new self as well as disadvantages, but most importantly, she was able to control her own destiny from this point on. If the myths were true, she would no longer feel cold, heat, pain or hunger as a human would. All of these would now become inconsequential, as would the emotion of love. She was dead for all practical purposes, and with it, she had buried any hope for love or human life, at least for the time being.
For now, she had to decide where she would go. Which direction would she go? Back toward the town or away? She turned in the moonlight as if trying to sense what direction to take. While doing so, she caught a glimpse of something on the ground. She walked toward it and saw it was a piece of paper with a rock on top of it to keep it from blowing away. She bent over and picked it up. Although it was dark except for the moonlight, she discovered it was quite easy for her to see in the reduced light. She smiled at this ability as she observed the scrawled words in a rough handwriting.
I misjudged you. I sought to make you cherish life, the human life, by bringing you to the brink of death—to feel the emptiness and coldness as compared to the fullness and warmth of life. But instead, you gave it up willingly, and took from me what I would never have given freely.
You are an evil woman as well as a fool. You believe this life will be better then death? It will appear so in the beginning, but its joys will wane quickly as you remember what you could have had in a normal life. I was taken without a choice and have often begged for death. But I have accepted my fate and tempered this life with caution and indifference in order to survive over the years, hoping that meaning will come to me. I still wait after many years to find it.
As for you, I would have killed you for what you did, but by the time I had recovered, you had turned and we don’t kill our own. Yes, there is a bizarre and perverse code by which we conduct ourselves in contrast to the solitary lives we choose to live. Our kind generally keeps to themselves: We’re territorial, I guess you might say. You may never meet another like you and so you may have nothing but solitude for company for the rest of the nights of your life, unless you choose the
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