Undead

20; awakened

Osiris

I was filled with desire. Desire to feed, desire to destroy, desire to harm. The idea of wrecking havoc was luring, and dare I say it: orgasmic. My spine began to tingle at the thought of ruining something, anything I could get my hands on.

This was the awakening of the beast. This was a wild animal finally being released from its cage. This was the beginning of the rest of my life.

Of course I didn't know what was going on with my body. But the sting in my gums, the fire in my irises, and the thirst for blood told me everything I needed to know. I had become something that haunted me from my childhood. Something that lurked in the literal shadows everywhere I looked. Ironic, yes. But did that mean I wouldn't embrace this new life? Yes and no.

The first thing I noticed was the quiet. Eerily quiet. I was alone in a dark, windowless room, and only a lamp in the corner. When I reached for it, my wrists got caught on something strong. Metal cuffs; I was strapped to this flimsy bed. But my newfound strength was no match for this. Every tug caused the metal to carve into my skin - and it wasn't enjoyable.

"Kane," growled out. "I know you can hear me, Kane." I dug my bite into my lower lip and waited impatiently. I was met with silence and a metaphorical ticking clock in my head. "Kane!"

The locks on the door sounded and I grinned deviously to myself. Only for it to turn into a scowl when I saw who came into my room instead. A scrawny ass white guy carrying a bag of blood. I squeezed my eyes shut to act as if I was still asleep - or unconscious, or whatever you call it - and he approached me. The closer he got, the faster his heart beat. I could hear it loud and clear.

His first mistake was releasing my wrist from its restraint. His warm fingers met the inside of my arm as he felt around for my vein, and I waited for the perfect moment for my attack. He reached away for a split second to grab the needle, and I sprang up and clutched his throat; his eyes went wide, his pupils shrinking considerably.

One shove and he was thrown into the adjacent wall. I was more than satisfied to hear his head collide first - instant concussion. I tugged at the other restraint and set myself free. The guy was groaning, his body slumped against the wall, palm holding the back of his head. I lurched, picked him up with one hand, and pressed my forearm into his neck. He was easily a foot off the ground, and he was choking for air.

"What day is it," I grumbled to him. His face was turning red. I pressed tighter, and I could almost hear his throat getting crushed. "I said what day is it?"

"January fifth..."

I raised an eyebrow. There was no way I've been halfway dead for this long. No thanksgiving. No Christmas. No New Years. That's impossible. With as much research as I've done on these things, there was no concrete answer as to how long a person's body takes to let their new powers seep in; it differed. But for me to be out this long, it didn't make an ounce of sense. Where was my family? Were they looking for me?

"Where am I?"

His face began to fade into a blue color. I clenched my jaw, wrapped my fingers around his neck and wrung it with ease. I watched him drop to the floor, the blankest look in his eyes. It only sparked more anger, and yet I grinned.

"Oh this is going to be fun."

The bag of blood had fallen to the ground during our struggle - or my attack because that dude didn't put up a fight at all - and I tore it open and devoured every last drop. The back of my palm swept across my lips and I moistened them with my tongue. I needed more. I needed this feeling to last. This was better than drugs, better than love.