Bloodlust

Bloodshed

— LIAM —

At some early hour the following morning, I stumbled through the backdoor of my house.

My face was sticky and covered in dried animal blood. I felt like I'd just been run over by a train from the fatigue gripping my muscles. I'd quite nearly run myself into the ground out of guilt.

I hadn't even touched human blood in decades. And today I had come terrifyingly close to draining a man completely dry of his.

Much like an addict would, I felt as though I had relapsed. I knew I could and would swear off human blood again—but the promise felt riddled with caution now that I knew I had lost control. I believed myself perfectly controlled after all this time.

What was it about these people that made me abandon all common sense and self-preservation? I practically dangled myself as bait in front of the Hunter.

I just wanted to see her. I just wanted her to look into my eyes again and blanket me with that perpetual hunger and curiosity I had gone so long without.

I scoffed at myself. I allowed a human girl to override my moral and ethical obligations. She wore about every concern except that which existed for her.

Although I didn't want to admit it, I wanted to end the Hunter merely because he had touched her. His identity as a Hunter really had no bearing on my decision, when it should have.

I shed my torn and disheveled clothes on my way to the master bathroom. Once I was completely bare, I crawled into the bathtub and flopped against the ceramic walls. Resting my head on the rim, my hand reached up to turn the knob on.

Ice water shot out of the faucet and sent goosebumps scattering across my skin. I was far too tired to do anything more than just gasp at the unexpected chill. The water turned to boiling as I carelessly flipped the knob in the other direction.

I relaxed into the burning water and forced myself to stay awake until the water reached my shoulders. Then I shut off the knob and surrendered my body to exhaustion.

After sitting in the tub for nearly an hour and nodding off more than a few times, I finally got out and toweled off. I felt cleaner but still tired.

How unfortunate.

As punishment for my wicked deed, I refused to let myself sleep tonight. I dressed in basketball shorts and a black athletic tank before dragging myself into the kitchen.

If I stayed in the bedroom a second longer, I would be falling face-first onto that glorious bed.

I downed two cups of coffee and forced myself to pace the hallway. Motion was the only way to keep myself awake.

Eventually, I even started falling asleep doing that. So I went outside with the hope that fresh air would renew my energy.

The air carried a chill that kept me alert with shivering. After taking only a few steps down the driveway, the sweet fragrance of old blood filled my nostrils. I followed the smell like a zombie, walking directly across the grass patch that connected my house to Venice's.

I wanted to torture myself with the delicious smell of my sins. Like a priest and his flogger, I wanted to flagellate myself until Hell's flames were nipping at my fingertips.

The blood's presence ramped my senses into high gear. Although I wasn't even remotely thirsty after hunting, that familiar craving settled into my bones.

I scowled furiously. I loathed the fact and reality that my entire being was sustained by the life force of other creatures.

A true monster will forcibly take anything from anyone to gratify himself when he is desperate enough.