Hunger

Joseph woke up slowly, his vision blurry. He sat up cautiously, his hands slipping on something wet in his bath tub. As his vision began to clear up he sighed, glancing at what he had slipped on. His hands were covered in glistening crimson. He must have passed out not too long ago if his blood was still moist. He pulled himself up to his feet, stepping out of the shower and averting his eyes to the corner of the bathroom.

The young man he had brought home yesterday was sitting on the floor lifelessly, his body resting against the wall. His head was leaning towards one side, his hair covering whatever facial expression he died with.

Joe wavered over to him, kneeling down in front of the corpse. He lifted one blood-stained hand up and moved the hair out of the man’s face. His mouth was ajar, his eyes open wide, staring off into nothing. Joseph’s eyes trailed down his face to his neck, stopping at his chest. He licked his lips, biting his lower lip after. The man’s chest was torn open, his ribs spread out like an open bird cage. The precious jewel inside that kept the man alive before by pumping his blood was gone, resting in Joe’ s stomach.

He left the corpse where it was, standing up once more and walking into his bedroom. The bed was a mess, all due to Joseph’s acting. He had to lure people into his domain that no-one, or near to no-one, cared about. The perfect prey were prostitutes, and unfortunately for this young man, he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. 

He sat on his bed’s edge, staring at his hands, the blood beginning to dry under his finger-nails. He was becoming way too sloppy when he was hungry. Taking in a deep breath he let his back hit the mattress, his eyes closing. He began venturing through his memories, re-living past meals and encounters with others like him. After-all, he was a Virvore. When he encountered others like himself it was a memorable experience. Man-eaters tended to dwell on their own - humans were very  vigilant, if there were numerous murders committed in the same area the police would become pests.

One memory in particular stood out to him. He remembered when he first encountered another Virvore. It was right after he had just consumed, Joseph dragging the corpse into a dumpster. The other man-eater had appeared out of no-where, chuckling. Joseph had turned around, ready to kill, but then he smelled the air. Virvore’s had a distinct scent, one that another Virvore could sniff out above anything. The other Virvore introduced himself as Andrew. He explained that it was alright to feast every now and then, but that Vivores had to maintain control most of the time. When he questioned him why Andrew explained that some Virvores evolve, and that was the last thing any Virvore wanted. Joseph continued to pry and to his luck he kept explaining. He stated that if a Virvore continuously ate and ate, whether or not they were hungry, they would start to become monstrous. Their eyes would slowly turn black, red dots appearing in their centers. Their strength would become uncontrollable, a gentle hold turning into a murderous grip. Worst of all, according to Andrew, they would stop consuming men and start consuming other Virvores. Joseph shrugged him off as a skeptic and went on his own way.

Today though, he couldn’t help but remember that man’s words. He opened his eyes and pulled himself once more onto his feet, walking past a mirror in his bedroom. Something caught his eye though, Joseph quietly retracing his steps until he was in front of the mirror. He blinked, staring at his reflection.

“Fuck.” He breathed, his usual brown eyes now black orbs, a very soft red emerging at their centers.