Creature of Unknown Origin

29

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The scent of blood, an acrid odor that was oddly familiar and wasn’t quite unpleasant, filled

my nostrils. A part of me was revolted by the strange comfort of the blood, to the perversion of

my other half’ s apathetic attitude toward the bodies created underfoot. That half operated on one

moral code and one alone: survival, the art of self-preservation. Everything was done without

hesitation, without remorse. The only protest was a tiny voice that whispered from the far edges

of my forgone mind, a voice that I used to call my own. Somehow, the scream it tried to be was

drowned out by the primal roar of my bloodstream.

I turned predatory eyes, eyes that surely glowed with a fierce and insatiable lust, on my

next victim. Or victims. The two men were locked in a battle for their lives, their cowardly weapons

abandoned on the ground they grappled on.

Recognition sparked in the deep crevices of my mind. The voice from those same depths

became a force that tugged and howled. The smooth voice of humanity dug its heels in and fought

to gain the upper hand over my body, just as the barely recognizable man tried to do against his

opponent. Except the determined voice inside my mind was gaining traction, digging its nails into

the supple memory that scratched just as vigorously at the cracks fracturing my mind.

A growl rumbled low in my throat, a buzz in my chest. I slammed into one of the men with

bared teeth and raised hackles. He didn’t have any time to react. It was only the sweet scent of

unadulterated panic and chaos that wafted off of him before my teeth sank into the tender skin of

his neck. Tendons and tissue popped, torn from their proper place as that savory copper flooded

my taste buds.

The prickle of terror and disgust washed over me. I bristled at it, my own condemnation.

With a turn of my head, I stared down at the man that the voice inside my mind fought so valiantly

to spare him.

One ragged pant became two, as I squared off with him, drawing the moment out as my

blood simmered below the surface of my skin with something my primal half couldn’t name or

didn’t care to acknowledge.

I stalked closer to him on stiff limbs. He edged farther and farther away from me, probably

too paralyzed by his own terror to get up and run away like he should. I regarded him curiously at

first, but the longer our dance went on, the worse the voice grated on my nerves and the wider the

chasms in my head grew.