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Ache. It filled her, running over her skin and suffocating her lungs. Every movement felt like too much. Her steps were slow and heavy as her body worked against her. Even breathing felt wrong . Every bit of her body was no longer her own . She barely remembered what it was like to be “herself.” All she knew was bloodlust, pain, and anger . Rage boiled her insides, only making every wound sting further.
She removed her hand from the fresh corpse, tossing it aside. She licked at the blood, a mixture of her own and the unfortunate life she took. She could never tend to her wounds properly, not with this abomination of a form. All she could do was lick at them, hoping that they’d once again be erased as if they never existed . They never physically scarred, and she had come to forget where most were.
Now was not the time for that. There was still someone left. She didn’t know who, she already forgot the faces of everyone she had seen today. They were all insignificant in the end. Nothing more than prey to slaughter. Instincts would once again put her brain into a haze, leaving her to only regret the past once it was once again too late.
The scent of the last one standing was clear. Sweet, familiar, vaguely comforting. She didn’t even think, her body naturally moved towards it. She was drawn to that scent. She couldn’t think about why , nor would it matter. No matter how much she yearned to fall into that comfortable sensation, hunger spoke above all.
If it smelled sweet, then it would taste just as sweet. They would taste just as sweet. Drool was already slipping from her maw, like some sort of feral animal . It was all she was these days.
She found them. She heard them, heard them scream. They didn’t run (they never did, no matter how much part of her PLEADED, SCREAMED, BEGGED for them to), perhaps couldn’t run. They were cornered. Cornered by a starving beast. Something mindless and feral, yet they tried pleading to her, tried to bring her back to her senses. It all fell on deaf ears.
(But that was a lie. She heard, oh did she hear. She screamed, though no one could hear. She screamed for it to stop, to have some form of control. “Please, don’t hurt them! What are you doing?! Stop!” It all fell on deaf ears. Her own ears.)
Their screaming only stopped when she decorated the rooms yellow walls with their blood. She was always so much more intense with them. She’d dig her claws into their insides, trying to coat herself in their warmth. She tried to gain comfort from them post-mortem. She’d gnaw on their bones to try and taste their sweetness. And then she’d just sit there, as her mind continued to screech and cry in horror at what she’d done.
Today was a little different. She found her face buried into their chest, her hands moving their own onto her head. A false hug, in a way. There was no one else to chase, nothing else to do, and the ache was too much to bear. She wanted that comfort, that familiarity that haunted her. The things that were just out of reach, too far into humanity for the beast to find.
She whined. A whine that could be mistaken for an injured animal, and yet she was the monster here. She whined and cried into their fading warmth, while barely able to understand
why
. Why did she want this? Why did she want to be held? Why did they make her feel like this?
Why did she hurt them? Why did she keep hurting them? Why couldn’t she just stop herself, why was her body no longer her own?
She would stay that way for as long as she could. Inevitably she’d be dragged away, forced into “down time” until the cycle would start all over again. Until she’d hurt others, hurt them , again.
(She just wants to go home. She wants to go back and apologize. Beg on her hands and knees for forgiveness. She just wants her Noob back. She just wants to be with them again. Why? Why? Why? Why?
)
Ache. She was why it was all she’d ever know. She knew that well.