Horrors of the Edge: New Blood

Chapter 1: Scratch

The screech of tearing metal rang through her ears, the flash of streetlamps arced over her eyes as her car finished sliding past the truck leaving a long scratch across the red paint of its side.

Lily awoke on an unfamiliar couch, surrounded by the aftermath of what must have been quite the new years party. Lily remembered that she had planned on heading here after hanging out with Olive and Ash downtown last night, but she didn't remember exactly how she actually arrived, let alone went to sleep on the couch. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door opening somewhere upstairs. Quickly checking that she was in what she wore last night, Lily got up, grabbed her bag hanging off the back of a chair and left the house before she would be seen by whoever else was awake. Normally she would relax after leaving the view of the house, knowing the source of social anxiety had been put well behind her.

Waiting at the BART station Lily couldn't help but look over her shoulder, there was of course still nobody there, but that didn't make her feel any better this time either. A few minutes later she checked again to the same result. Once she was on the train Lily thoroughly examined the other passengers while trying to remain at least somewhat discreet about it. Immediately across her were some kids at least a few years younger than her, freshmen or high schoolers? They were busy talking among themselves for the time being, something about that movie "Fight Club", she hadn't seen it so the conversation held little meaning to her. Further up the train were some families, little kids being loud but not running around or anything. A brother and sister were playing with each other and Lily caught herself before a tear could well up, nothing good would come from crying over what couldn't have been, not for her. The closest person to her was an older Hispanic woman, Lily gave her a smile before casually stretching in a way that would let her look to the back of the train car. What appeared to be a homeless man with a rabbit patch on his jacket had most of the back to himself with the exception of a man in a business suit with a black briefcase, strange given it was a Saturday. Something wasn't right about that situation but she was unsure what it was exactly.

The man in the business suit got off a stop before hers. So did the homeless man a moment later. The doors closed and Lily was already following the two men before fully realizing why. There was a sweet smell, one that didn't remind her of any food and yet made her hungry, and as she followed the men she could tell the smell was getting stronger. The man in the business suit ducked down an alleyway and the homeless man broke out into a sprint turning the same corner. She found herself picking up her pace, running headfirst into the homeless man as he ran back out of the alley, eyes wide with terror.

"I can tell you're hungry, but if you know what's good for you you're gonna run the opposite direction!"

His voice was shaky and he smelled of alcohol, yet that sickly sweet aroma was stronger than ever and overwhelmed the other scent, as if it went past her nose and penetrated into a much deeper part of her senses, bypassing conscious thought to alert her instincts directly... only they weren't her instincts. All of this sensation passed through her and was processed before he finished saying "I", yet the meaning of his words took til well after he had continued running the other direction. By that point she had checked down the alleyway only to find no trace of the man in the business suit. She thought about following the advice of the homeless man, it wouldn't be the first time she refused to follow these instincts, and nothing bad had come from avoiding these situations before, her life would return to normal and she would forget all about this. Until the next time at least. It has been months since the crash, and every few weeks since she had found herself in these... situations. Situations that made no sense to be happening, where she found herself following instincts that were unfamiliar. She likened it to an itch, one in which her life would be perfectly fine if she refused to touch it, and yet, the need to scratch it was overwhelming. This itch was starting to be less and less instinctual, she wanted to scratch it, she wanted the satisfaction of giving in to these instincts, she wanted answers, more so than she wanted to forget.