I was hungry. I was so hungry. I could barely think, and even then not very clearly. All I knew was that I felt like I was dying from hunger.
Of course, at that point, I was already dead.
So I really didn't have anything to complain about, did I?
Nevertheless, after having been dead for almost a week and not having anything to eat, I felt like I would never be able to go on. I just kept wandering around the little alley near my home at night, hoping that I'd find something that my stomach could keep down. I had tried eating some bread and soup the night before, but an hour hadn't passed before it all came back up. And even while I was eating it, it seemed to turn to dust in my mouth and I could barely make myself swallow the food. I didn't know what was wrong with me.
No...I did. He told me, more than I cared to hear. "Stay in the dark. Stay out of the sun. You are damned like me now," and then he had vanished, with a grin on his pale face and blood, my blood, staining his teeth and lips. I got the idea. I knew what I needed to eat - or rather, drink - to sustain myself, but the thought disgusted me. I couldn't bring myself to do it. But I was wasting away.
It was one week later. The Christmas celebrations were over now, though decorations were still up in some places. The sound of raucous New Year Eve's parties was pouring loudly out of the homes. I wandered aimlessly through the almost empty streets of London, shuffling through inches of snow. I noticed at one point that the snowflakes did not melt when they landed on my bare hands. No breath clouded the frosty air in front of me.
I stumbled along, delirious in my hunger. I licked my dry, cracked lips, wishing I could quench my terrible thrist without relying on...well, I was losing it at that point. My eyesight was blurred, I could hardly pick up my feet and move them forward. Every now and then, someone would call to me from their brightly-lit doorways, inviting me inside to celebrate. But then they would see how pale I was and how glassy my eyes were, and they'd hurry to shut the door. I didn't blame them; I wouldn't let me in my house either. Besides, I shied away from the light.
I was walking along an alley in the Soho district when suddenly, from all around me, shouts and singing sprang up. Some people threw open their doors and yelled to the sky in celebration. It was midnight. A new year.
I drew into a corner and watched the happy people. All of them were calling to each other, hugging, laughing. A few parents had even allowed their small children to stay awake until the clocks struck midnight. The little boys and girls squealed in delight, racing about and playing in the falling snow.
After ten or so minutes of this, people began saying good night to their neighbors and going back inside their warm homes. Parents called to children, hurrying them inside. I remained in my corner, watching.
I'm not certain what happened then, but I think that my new demonic side had had enough and decided to take over. I could tell what was happening, but it almost felt as though my body were acting on its own. I found myself closely watching a young girl, probably six or seven years old, who was slowly making her way back towards home. Her mother had called, but was now cheerfully speaking with a friend. An opportunity, as I saw it.
Sliding forward more silently than the snowflakes whirling about me, I slipped a cold hand around the girl's mouth, twisted my other hand in her hair, and then swiftly carried her off to another dark side alley. She didn't make a sound. If I hadn't been so crazed with hunger, it would've unnerved me.
My eyes darted back and forth, checking for other people. No one was in sight. Eagerly, I looked upon my prize.
She was a slight, frail thing, with golden, curling hair and light blue eyes. She was like some kind of fairy out of a tale. She was beautiful. I remember fighting the Beast, trying to hold it back, but it was tired of listening to me. It lunged, carrying me with it.
A sudden ecstasy filled me as my teeth, my fangs, sank into the girl's tiny neck. Oh God, it was so good! I closed my eyes in pleasure and began sucking greedily as the red liquid gushed out of the little fairy girl. The sudden rush of food sent me into a frenzy.
It probably didn't even take two minutes before I had sucked her dry. Finally, I was me again. Licking my bloodstained lips, I pulled back from my prey...then I choked on a scream.
The girl was lying on the ground, but at a glance, one wouldn't be able to tell it had been a girl a few minutes before. Somehow, in my frenzy while feeding, I had sliced the girl to ribbons with my bare hands. Bits of hair and flesh sat in pools of blood. Her face was an unrecognizable mass of sliced tissues. Skin was cut down to the bones. In some places, the bones were cut clean in half. It was like someone had taken a hatchet to the fairy girl's body. I could only stare in horror. Then I saw she was staring back. By some miracle, her blue eyes had survived the carnage. She watched me even in death.
I ran from that place like a bat out of hell.
Not until I was near home did I slow my pace at all. I was so badly shaken; all I could see in my mind were her eyes, staring at me accusingly.
---
It was in the newspaper the next day: "Terrible Murder starts off New Year."
I finally gave in to my new nature. The Beast and I became one. I couldn't fight it anymore. I didn't have the will to, I didn't have the strength. I was too damn weak.
Happy New Year.