Emptiness.
The same emptiness that had gnawed at her every day, threatening to consume and consume until nothing was left.
Nothing was left.
A great pit filled where her soul used to be, a vacuous void that consumed her from the inside out. It had scraped away at her insides, scooped all of her away, until nothing was left. Sometimes, when she was around enough people, she could almost forget. But it was never enough and it never lasted for long. Nobody wanted to be around her, these days.
It was a cold morning, but she didn't feel it.
She drifted forlornly through the early mist, bisecting the wide street with her footfalls. Tall buildings framed her, left and right, bleak and grey, expanding upwards into the fog.
Distantly, a rhythmic thumping and laboured breaths. A jogger?
Her name was Tristan. She was a twenty year old boy.
She had forgotten her name decades ago.
Her pace slowed, as her motivation to run was sucked out of her
Her pace quickened, as her motivation fed the hunger, the yearning.
She looked around, as the world grew distant.
She focused intently on the pinprick of light, the glimmer of something that broke the monotonous nothing.
She panted, tears running down her face. She would never be happy again.
She wanted to scream, a lifetime of joy and hope and anger and fear and life bouncing inside of her
She screamed, as the spectre glided out of the fog and embraced her.
She dropped, pulling back her hood and drawing a single, rattling breath.
He dropped, the link broken, as his fate was sealed with a kiss.
She gently placed the body on the ground as a sun burned inside her, beating back the hunger. As always it brought with it a sense of revulsion at what she had become, her only reprieve marred by the self-awareness it returned to her. Not for the first time, she swore that it wasn't worth it- that she would never feed again. But even as she made her vow, she knew that she would inevitably lose herself to the hunger.
Already, it clawed at her breast.