“Make this next right. It'll take us
directly behind a little shack,” I said.
“And you're sure there's someone
here?” he asked with suspicion.
“Yeah, I'm sure.”
“Well, it doesn't look like it,” he
said as he turned down the dirt road. His suspicion boiled through him.
“Really, Marshall? I swear your meal
awaits you in that shack. It's not like I brought you here to put you down. As
if I knew how to. He's a hobo. It's not like he's going to be in a mansion.
He's probably lucky to be able to stay in an old, rotting shed.” Marshall
flinched when I mentioned putting him down, but his suspicion faded.
I hoped that the man inside the
shack was passed out drunk and didn't hear us pull up, or at least didn't care
that we did. I wanted some kind of surprise on his part. Surprising him meant
he couldn't run and alert other people to our presence. I mean, sure someone
could’ve seen us turn down the road, but we were out-of-towners in a
recreational vehicle who could’ve just been lost, for all they knew.
Marshall brought the Winnebago to a
stop and turned off the engine. I cracked my window and listened. I heard the
soft drone of snores. They were slightly off, but I paid it no mind. I didn't
roll the window up fast enough and knew the exact moment the man's scent hit
Marshall. His bloodlust smashed at my mental barriers. There was no turning
back.
I rose from the seat and ran to the
door. Barely slipping past Marshall's grip. I threw the door open and stepped
aside. He jumped out behind me. It seemed that he'd almost turned at me, but
then he stalked, nearly cat-like, toward the shack. He circled the rotted
structure, while I stood idly by the Winnebago. He found a makeshift entrance
at the corner and slipped inside.
I listened carefully, wanting to
know exactly when I needed to go and get Marshall out of there and back inside.
That's when it hit me. Why the snoring sounded off. My mind registered the
second heartbeat at almost the same time the woman started screaming.
“Shit!” I shouted.
The woman ran out of the shack.
Marshall ran out behind her, dragging the man. In my panic, my mental barrier
dropped. I was consumed by bloodlust. Marshall's? My own? It didn't matter. I
was its slave.
I ran to the woman and grabbed her.
Putting my hand to her mouth, I quieted her. I glanced at Marshall in time to
see him rip into the man's throat. Through the haze of bloodlust, I felt both
horror and awe at Marshall's actions.
My mind was my own, but my body was
driven by the need of blood. I struck. My teeth sank into the woman's neck. My
mouth drew upon the fluid that filled it. I closed my eyes as the warm blood
slid down my throat.
Fear tugged at me. Sweet delicious
fear. I smelled it. Tasted it. I felt
it. My mind swam in a pool of emotions. Bloodlust, satisfaction, fear, and
worry. The worry was mine. But the fear was all her. I couldn't do it again.
The transformation Marshall undertook was too much, too powerful. I didn't want
to do that again. I really didn't want my psyche split three ways, either.
I drew harder at the blood coming
from the woman's neck wound. Willing every drop into my mouth. I felt movement
at my side and opened my eyes in time to see Marshall grab the woman's arm. He
brought her wrist to his mouth.
With every pull of blood, the
woman's fear faded. With every slowing beat from her heart, her fear died a
little more. Until her heart had no more beats to give. Her body, no fear left.
I dropped the lifeless body to the
ground. The woman's fear being snuffed out broke something in me. The brief
connection we shared, left me empty. I walked to the Winnebago and stepped
inside. I went to the set of cabinets by the stove and retrieved a small torch
lighter and a container of lighter fluid.
Upon my return, Marshall had moved
the bodies inside of the shack. Somewhere along the way, he realized I intended
to burn the place. I opened the lighter fluid and squirted just enough to start
the flame. The rotted wood lit quickly and began burning much faster than I had
expected it to.
Marshall grabbed my hand and led me
back inside, closing the door behind us. “Coral, we've got to get out of here
before someone shows up, okay?”
“Huh? Oh, right. Um, you drive. I'm
going to clean up.”
He stood there, looking at me.
Concern oozed from him. I shut it out, trying my hardest not to feel anything.
He opened his mouth to speak, but I stopped him by holding up my hand.
“Marshall, drive. Now.”
I walked to the tiny bathroom. The
Winnebago's engine came to life as I shut the door. Standing in front of the
mirror, I didn't find the blood-soaked face I thought I'd see. All there was to
be seen was a thin, jagged stream that started at the left corner of my mouth
and went towards the middle of my chin. I took a tissue and wiped the blood
away. I tossed the stained paper in the trash.
I turned on the shower. Before
stripping my clothes, I took one last glance in the mirror, taking in the
monster I had become. My eyes were wild, the pupils fully dilated. Though it
wasn’t visible just by looking, a part of me had changed, and I'd never be the
same.
I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water
scald my skin. My back slid down the wall until I was sitting on the floor. I
opened my mind, reaching out and felt Marshall's concern. That one emotion caused
the emptiness in me to flood with so many other feelings. I pulled my knees to
my chest and as the water from the shower scorched my skin, I wept.~~~
Halfborn is available in ebook and paperback formats and can be purchased at Amazon.
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