Hunger
His teeth pushed out, and the hunger made his entire body ache. He curled to his left side and ignored the rain dropping against him. The body didn’t feel cold any longer. There was just a residual memory that the wet ground and clothes pressing against his body would be the death of him. Nothing would ever kill him except hunger and decapitation. He was already dead.
The huge branches hung over him. There was a faint memory of him crawling here after feeding last night, crawling there, wishing to die, but unable to end his life.
The ache was getting worse. It compelled him to get up and hunt. He didn’t want to. He still tasted his last victim’s terror on his lips. Fear tasted exhilarating. The beast in him would eventually force him up and on the move. For now, he resisted. For now, he remembered what it was like to be a human with human aches. Silly things now, as he looked back at them.
—
I’m feeling melancholic today. Memories and my nightmares pressing on me. I have been dreaming about deep, black waters for a few nights now. Occasionally, I am sucked by that darkness, and sometimes I see someone else struggling to pull themselves to the surface of the water. Last night, it was a woman in a red jacket jumping into the cold waters of a canal, and almost being sucked into the deepness. I watched her from a bird’s perspective. It will pass. Things pass. That’s the beauty and horror of life. Nothing will stay the same, and the struggle against the stream of things causes pain.
Now, what I got today was a voice-driven horror about rebirth, written in objective third person.
Thank you for reading! Have your thirst quenched today, and see you tomorrow ❤
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