Hey, I realise I only just put the first chapter up this morning but I figured I might as well post this one as well. Can't promise when the 3rd chapter will be posted though.

In the constant darkness he watched the change as a third person. Smelling the venom rush through his body, sealing it forever, hearing the galloping heart as it rushed to save him. Now and then the desert like heat would be cooled from his face by some other being, another being that still had control of themselves, and now, of him too.

From this spirit-like state horror passed over his as his heart began its diminuendo before coming to its final bass 'thud'. This was not a musical but the operatic songs of a funeral. Now what would happen? The afterlife had never interested him and now here he was on his death bed.

For a while he could only watch this murderous villain lie next to her pray.
Sometimes she would get up and pace, very occasionally she left the room completely. Mentally he was pinned to the ceiling and unable to see what the hell this creature was doing in his flat. Her departure always led to blood curdling screams.

The numbness subsided and he was surprised to find the pain had left with it. The crippled body became a vacuum for his spirit and the time he had spent away from his physical form left him hungry for it's return.

After more unmeasured time James began to recall how his body worked. There was silence in the room; only his rasped breathing disrupted it. He tried to quiet his throat and go back to unconsciousness but he shot bolt upright; he didn't need air? Rapidly things were dawning on him. He didn't breathe again but his throat burned anyway. There wasn't a monotonous rhythm but what was missing? His heart. As his eyes flew open he grabbed at his chest, like a bad gorrilla imitation he began to beat at it. Something touched his back at that moment and instinctively he flew to the end of the bed.

She sat in his previous spot, her face was blank but there was a hint of pride in her gleaming eyes, which he now noticed to be a dark crimson. Before any other thought could cross his mind he snarled and lunged towards the woman, the monster, the muderer. There was an enourmous crack as she flew into the headboard; the wood broke from the force but the creature showed no sign of pain.

His arm wound back as he went to grab the woman's hair, but she was faster and flew over the top of him, causing dust to billow everywhere. He was too in awe of the senses he had acquired to notice as she fled from his bedroom. Was this a curse of a gift that she had given him ?

Snapping out of this dream he threw himself into pursuit of the woman, but suddenly the door was in his face. What was going on? He had super powers now, he could out run any human on the planet but still this creature had completey disappeared from his apartment. CRACK! The plan was to open the door that now remained in his hand but again he had underestimated his new body. By the time the door touched the ground he was outside the pub. Now he could see the orange flare from the otherside of the road, and she sat in a bus shelter watching him, watching him with a smile that had lost it's impishness.

Now it struck him, stronger than a punch in the gut. His throat burst into flame, and he was surrounded by fragrances; this wasn't like a meadow of wild flowers but a starving child in a cake shop. People avoided the half-naked, shoeless man who was spinning in the middle of the street but this couldn't stop him. He grabbed at someone's shoulder and it was a small woman. She began to brush him off and hurry away but he pounced onto her and she began to scream,"RAPE!" obviously getting the wrong idea. There was an affectionate purr and she gurgled as razor teeth slashed at her jugular vein.

The street became anarchy, people tried to fend him off but soon fled as his killing total rose. His creator sat peacefully in a bus stop, not doing anything to stop or help the catastrophe unfolding before her. Eventually she sensed the young man beginning to calm and soon enough he stopped feeding and looked back at her. His eyes were now flat black and this was the first time in a long time that she had felt scared.

" Now let's talk," he smiled, "I want your name, where you're from, what I did and what the heck I am. Or I'll spill your blood just as easily!" his snarl went hand and hand with his menacing pout. As she laughed this off casually his eyebrows lowered into a frown. "What's so funny bitch?"
"You of course sweetie", her angelic voice on the other hand, didn't match her body at all. James flinched away from her affectionate tone. "We'll get really close, but right now we should probably leave; you just killed seven people on an empty street."

Was she speaking the truth? He hadn't thought about them as people, they were simply food to him now. Well, even if she was it didn't matter, he could take any police that was sent after them. Him. He wouldn't link himself to the beast, even now when he was just as bloodthirsty.

The woman stood up and gently laid her hands on his bare shoulders, her hands felt warm. "Let's go baby. I want you to follow me, and you need to." Something in her voice made him lose his preconceptions about her and without fail he took her hand in his and began to follow her; where ever she planned to go.