00 - Blood Thirst

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Hunter - Björk







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A vampire has four stages.





Thrill





Hunt





Elation





and Hunger.








Thrill — the electric buzz, that heartbeat of anticipation when the hunt is about to begin.





Everything sharpens.





Every sound, every scent is magnified.





It's the edge of a blade, the predator's awakening.





Hunt — the chase. It's the rush through the shadows, the silent pursuit.





The vampire moves like a whisper, every step calculated.





It's a deadly dance, a game where the prey never stands a chance.





The thrill is intoxicating, primal.






Then — Elation comes with the kill.





It's the high, the satisfaction.





For a moment, everything is perfect. The vampire is alive, more than alive.





Every sense is ablaze with victory, a fleeting moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.





Hunger — though, is the constant.





It's the gnawing void, the unending need. It always comes back, relentless and unforgiving.





The vampire is forever chasing, forever needing.





It's the curse that defines them, a never-ending affair.






And the cycle repeats.






Inescapable.






Live for the hunt, for the moment you sink your teeth into warm flesh.






But then the hunger creeps back in, turning everything to ash.






You're always on the brink, forever teetering between ecstasy and despair.






There's no rest, no peace, just the endless drive to feed, to survive.






It's a dance with death, and you're the star, night after night.







The deprivation








The yearning









The thirst










For blood.
















Human blood.
































blood thirst - sunsun

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