Once More, With Feeling

Chapter Seven

One moment, Douma was looking into the vibrant violet eyes of Shinobu and the next he was looking into the dull brown eyes of a corpse, the taste of blood in his mouth and an intense hunger in his stomach. He was holding it so tightly his claws stabbed through the skin and into the bone and his whole body was hunched over it protectively – no, possessively. Like someone would steal it and eat it for themselves.

He blinked, slowly uncurling himself and taking in his surroundings. He was in his temple. Its appearance was slightly off, but he recognized it. Most notably, it was full of corpses. Familiar half eaten corpses. He didn't know everyone's name, but they had been dead for decades. His first slaughter.

A dream?

He hadn't dreamed in... well, since he could last fall asleep.

He licked at the blood that had leaked onto his chin. He could taste it. Not a dream, then? Had... Shinobu been a dream? He had dreamed of having emotions before. It was possible. His heart raced at the thought of it being fake.

He paused and then put a hand over his chest.

No, no that had been real.

He had died.

And now he was alive.

He looked at the bloodied corpse again. Red tinted his vision as he took in sight and smell of the blood and his hand darted up to his mouth to stop the saliva that began to pool out. He hadn't felt like this in years. Since he had first been turned into a demon. Was he really back to the first day? He was so hungry.

He bit clear through his thumb and palm, his own blood shocking the hunger out of his system for what he knew would only be a moment. He focused on the corpse's face. He had a great memory, but as a human he hadn't really bothered getting to know his follower's names. He didn't know the man. No particular memory stood out either. He would not be remembered by anyone.

He couldn't hold himself back anymore.

He continued to eat.

He went off to finish the other half eaten corpses as well. It was best to devour the entire body to get the most nutrients. He'd been careless last time and discarded them for the best tasting bits. He let them rot, cold and alone.

Last time.

Was it truly the past? Perhaps it was a Blood Demon Art he was under the influence of? A side effect of too much poison? It felt so real though.

He could test it. To wake from Enmu's dream you had to kill yourself. He would try it here.

All he needed was a little sun. Since he had taken the time to eat everyone, bone and all, it should already be dawn. He made his way to the entrance of his temple and placed his palm on the door. It would not slide open. His followers, the ones who survived, had barricaded him and his victims inside. In the past his hunger drove him to break it down the same night to kill everyone else. He'd been too driven by bloodlust to even notice there had been a barricade until several days later when he got ahold of himself. Now he knew he had to be careful or else he'd be washed in sunlight. It took some careful maneuvering but soon he was able to get a sliver of sunlight into the temple.

He stretched a claw out, then flicked it out into the sunbeam and back into the shadows at a speed no human would be able to track.

The pain in his hand was indescribable. Only a single digit had been touched by the sun but all the cells in his hand had been sent ablaze and burned away.