A curse. A violent, bloody curse. My victim stands in front of me. Blank. What am I to do? If I don’t give in, I could be dead tomorrow. I can’t survive…without…blood…I was turned two weeks ago, and I haven’t given in to this feeling, this longing, yet. Will I ever? I’m soon to find out. I will soon know if my lust for life is stronger than my vegan beliefs.
I look at the man I’ve hypnotised. He’s tall, strongly built, with brown hair and green eyes. He would have a lot of blood. I might not have to kill him. Would that still be wrong? Is there anything wrong with lapping the blood from a hole you have made in your victim’s neck? Would it necessarily be cruelty? But I know I would kill him if I fed. The monster that twisted my fate told me so. She told me that we always kill when we feed, and she warned me to always drink from those who would not be missed. From this warning you might think that she cared for me, loved me even. But she was as evil as the rest of them.
I look again at the man, slowly. There isn’t anything special about him to be brutally honest. He has an okay face I suppose, but there is nothing to make him stand out. What would happen if I killed him? Is there anything in his life that is worth living for? Is he a nice man? I ask these questions to myself as if it wouldn’t be evil, as if it wouldn’t be a sin. It would be horrible, cruel and nasty. Yet this burning in my throat cannot be ignored.
Should I throw my beliefs aside? I am a different man now, a different species even. It is not cruel when animals kill each other, they don’t know any better, but it is cruel when a human kills an animal. Am I exempt now? Am I an animal? His fingers start to twitch. Maybe he’s coming round. I have to make a decision. Do I give in to cruelty? Do I give in to a life of murder and blood?
I move hesitantly towards him. Do I really have any other choice? I must either do this or die. My extra strength is already fading, if I pass this up, this free meal, I may not find another one. I may not have the energy. I don’t want to do this. I don’t like it, but is there any other way? I don’t want to die. I catch sight of myself in a puddle. My eyes are glowing with a dark, red, blood lustre. My canine teeth are extending past my lips. I resign myself to becoming a monster. I am almost upon him now. I can taste him already from his scent.
As I reach him something makes me glance down. I see his hand. There is a gold band. A wedding ring. I gasp. I stumble away. He’s married. He has someone who cares for him. Maybe a family. There is certainly someone who would cry if he died. I cannot believe what I almost did. I turn. I run. At the end of the alleyway I hear him come to, and muse aloud how he got there, and where his friends were. Friends. He had friends too. They would have been devastated as well. I’m crying as I run because I know I’ve signed my own death warrant. I almost took a man’s life and all I can think about is myself. I guess I really am a monster.
A few days later. My strength has faded to almost nothing and all I can do is lie here. I’m actually in the same alley. I came back later, after he left, and lay down on the floor. Thankfully no one has been by since then. I can’t trust myself not to try and feed. Although I know one thing for sure now: the sunlight legend is truly a myth. I was hoping it wasn’t so that I could go quickly, but I didn’t have any such luck. I didn’t turn to ash, although it hurt my sensitive eyes greatly.
As I feel my last strength fading, I whisper to no one in particular: “Help me, I don’t want to die.”
“Then you should have never been born,” a voice gently whispers back to me. I turn my head feebly to see the monster that changed me glaring down at me. Then she is gone. Fleeing the torment of the rising sun no doubt. Funny, but she really was beautiful. If she wasn’t a monster, I would have probably wanted to get to know her.
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