By Jes Drew
My throat is so dry. My tongue so swollen. All I can think of is the great thirst within me. The need to find the one thing which will satisfy my soul—or what was once my soul before it was stolen from me.
Blood. I need blood. And I need it now.
My body has no strength in it—not after endless nights writhing under the transformation of venom coursing through my veins, changing me into the monster I’ve become. But the thirst draws me up from my cot. The thirst draws me out of it, and toward the room of my patient nurse. My best friend.
My prey.
No, no. There must be some other way. Not the boy who I grew up alongside. Not Isaac, who stood by me in all my wandering, who warned me to stay away from Jasmine. Not the man who found me where she left me to mutate like her.
Yes, the thirst says. For you have mutated like her. And you need to feed. Feed on your prey.
My hand reaches for the knob of the door separating me from where I know he’s sleeping.
He’ll be such easy prey. And we’re so, so thirsty.
I turn the doorknob and open the door.
And there he is, lying restfully in his bed, exhausted after days of tending to me. The man who is a brother to me in every way but blood.
Blood. Drink it. Drink it now.
I feel a kinship with the shadows as I move toward him. They seem to speed me more quickly. No—I do not want to move quickly. I want to flee!
The shadows are our allies. It is the moon shining into the room that is our enemy. Hide it from us.
Turning, I see where Isaac has kept his blinds pulled back away from the window, letting the ferocity of that evil known as light into his bedchambers.
Close the blinds. We cannot be quenched in the light! We are a creature of the night.
To my great relief, I find myself moving away from Isaac’s bed, toward the window. My hands grasp the curtains, and I glance back. The moon throws the shadows of the window panes in a cross-like shape over Isaac’s innocent form.
Light taints the victim. Hide the light from us.
The light illuminates Isaac’s face. The face I’ve grown so accustomed to. The face the thirst would steal the light away from.
Not steal. Take what is ours. Drink.
But the voice is quieter now, dimmed by the light.
The light is our enemy! Hide it from us!
Isaac is my friend. I must hide him from me.
Not taking my gaze off of Isaac’s face, I drop my hands from the curtains to the bottom of the window. Then I push up, letting the night breeze into the room.
Letting the cursed light into the room.
“Vincent?” Isaac mumbles behind me.
“I’ll find a way,” I gasp through my ravaged throat. “I’ll find a way to control the thirst. We’ll meet again—”
“Vincent, no—”
No!
But it’s too late. I’m out of the window, and the shadows surround me, ready to obey my will, carry me where I want to go.
I go toward the light.
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Jes!!!! I loved this <3
Thank you!
Nice job keeping up the tension through the whole story, and amping it even more as Vincent approaches the window. Well done!