I have never experienced anything like it. I moved like liquid lightning, striking and silencing her in one swift attack. I knocked the wind out of her when I hit her and she fell unconscious when her head hit the pavement. Not really knowing what I was doing, but being instructed all the while by the stranger in my head, I tore the fabric away, pushing her hair aside, exposing her neck. Unsure of myself, I bit in.

It was like an explosion! I was so thirsty. Warm, wet sticky blood filled my mouth: I was choking! Oh, but it was so wonderful! It seemed like my mouth was absorbing it, like it was being drawn up through my teeth. I chomped a bit, making a horrible mess of her throat, but not caring. It felt so good! It was like your first trip on acid, the one that you spend all of your money on buying drugs, trying to recreate. It was like a flame to a freezing man, like water to a man in the desert, like air to a drowning man, and like food to the starving poor, all at once. After about a quarter of an hour of gorging myself, I sat back and surveyed my victim, and promptly was hit by more waves of the now familiar nausea. It looked like a good place to test the blood removal potion, on my robes, and everywhere surrounding me. There was blood spilled all about me, wasted by my messy mastication. All over the cobblestones of the courtyard, her robes, and mine. The smooth line of her throat was shredded, and the light that had once flashed in those still too-blue eyes was gone forever. What HAD I done? The tiger in me withdrew once again, and I curled up, my eyes staring at nothing in particular, avoiding the body. I rocked back and forth, and whispered to comfort myself, to try to reconcile my own actions.

Abruptly, I felt someone's gaze piercing me. Against the backdrop of a cloudy sky, as if attempting to conceal a full moon, a figure stood watching, draped all in black like myself. "It has begun," resounded a voice in my head. There was only one person it could be. I ran.