Act III : Restored

My watery eyes opened as I was woken up by the stench of the corpse that lied beneath me.

I attempted to raise my upper body up so I could come to my senses. The thought of walking away passed through my mind, briefly. Although I knew better.

Wounded and bleeding as I was, it acquired inhuman effort to even move a muscle. But I was not human.

I knew what I needed to do in order to heal myself. Thus, my eyes were set upon the throat of the dead demon. His skin harder than wood, I desperately clawed a wound open. Green blood began to flow from the demon's throat, a type of blood so alien that I was putting myself at risk drinking it. The hesitation quickly passed as I was too hungry, too weak, to resist.

I sank my fangs into the creature's wound and ripped its flesh open until I reached the softest layer of meat I could find. My excitement rose as I once again embraced the curse that had been bestowed upon my kind so many centuries ago. I feasted on the demon's lifeblood, devouring every bit of the bitterness that flowed within its body.

Old habits die hard. . .

What felt like a day passed before I decided to get back on my feet. Fed and rested as I was, restored and healed, the intense heat and negative atmosphere of this realm were enough to keep me in a permanent state of frailness.

"This place will be the end of me" I whispered to myself in a fatalistic, mournful tone.