10.5 In the grip of madness

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hey guys, so yea, i decided to put up some kind of little 'side story'. this little chap is between chappie 8 and 10 ! :) (maybe it was because i received so many votes on chap 10.. love you guys<3)

Oyea and next week i'll be going to italyyyy ;D ;D so no updates till then :( i think btw that i'm going to edit this chap after my return, so! 

edit:  I am back and tanned ;D lolol. anyway, edited it and it's as ready as it'll ever be :) expect an update soon! xox

thanks for reading!

enjoy!^^

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-Side story-

Sometimes you come across certain scenes in life which you always thought were dreams made up from your own overactive imagination. Like seeing people behind trees were before no one stood. Hearing voices of long lost memories and witnessing somebody get robbed and killed. Things like that. Later, you hear from people that whatever you saw and whatever happened, had all been anything but a dream. Sometimes it was more like a living nightmare. Right now, I felt precisely that same way.

“What is that?!” Ayama asked with her nose crunched up in disgust, voicing my exact same thoughts. “That, my dear ones, is a human.” Ayama, Convel and Makoce all gasped simultaneously in surprise. They had never seen a human before. I remained quiet. Of course I’d known it to be a human; I could remember as much. But this thing before us was so heavily mutilated that I just didn’t want to believe it.

A body of a girl lay before us in the grass. Heavily violated and maimed. Large pieces of her hair were ripped off, leaving almost half her skull full of once bloody wounds were her skin had been ripped off. Now dirt, dried blood and some strands of hair was all that decorated her head. Her skull was visible at the place where her head rested on a bloodied rock.

Somebody broke her nose and left huge bruises along her neck, arms and legs. Ragged lines of wounds decorated the side of her face where somebody had cut her with a sharp object. Her empty gaze was staring up, all the way up, still caught in whatever hell she’d been through and hopeful for somebody to end her hurt.

The pieces of fabric humans always wore were ripped to pieces and lying in a bloody heap besides her body. A white slimy substance was strewn all over her. As for the rest, let’s just say it was brutalized in a very sick way.

“Why didn’t they eat her?” Makoce asked, taking a step forward and sniffing the body.

“They don’t eat their own. Not even in a time of great famine. In their culture, it’s greatly looked down upon,” Daciana answered.

“Why did they kill her so uncleanly then?” Convel asked disgusted, “a clean kill would have been good enough.”

I spoke up darkly: “because whoever did this was a very disturbed person. She shouldn’t have been killed in the first place.”

I also stepped forward and sniffed the air around the body. A thick scent of sweat, fear and sex coated the air. I could dissect another scent, a scent that smelled like man, strawberries and the acrid smell of smoke. Cigarette smoke, I corrected myself: remembering the little white sticks some of my cousins used to smoke. It was an odd mix, but human scents often were.

A sudden thought entered my mind and made a feral smile spread across my lips. I turned towards my siblings, my hunting partners. The only few I trusted. I spoke my thoughts exactly and watched as their gazes of disgust and repugnance changed into sheer bloodlust and coldblooded determination.  “Shall we hunt man for a chance?”

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