predators

When first the Dark came upon me, I heard it speak of its desires. Having lacked a body for so long a time, it craved warmth, it longed for blood and flesh. It sought to force its way inside of me, to fill me, though my body could not withstand the demands it made of me. The Dark is merely a force of nature, he told me, and not something evil - as the wolf preys on the hare, so does the Dark seek what it hungers for.

Some nights, I look up at him as he kneels between my legs, his claws drawing long red trenches in my side or shoulder or thigh, a strange light in his eyes behind the tendrils of sweat-dark hair, and wonder who or what it is that has invited me to his bed.

And then I wonder if perhaps I should pity the wolf, for its hunger must run deep.