Summery: Angel struggles with bloodlust.
Disclaimer: No I don't own Angel or associated characters otherwise not made up in the story. sigh
Not again. No please not again! The bloodlust was killing him as he tried to concentrate on work. Angel was up late, about 3 A.M., trying to find some obscure passage in some old, dusty book. It was not his thing and all he could think about was the hunger, the burning desire living and growing inside of him.
He hated it with a passion. The way his hunger crept silently into the pit of his very being made his soul nauseous. On the other hand there was one part of him, the dark part of him, that lived for this very feeling. It swept over his body in waves and sent a shock that forced him to stand. Pacing Angel tried to ignore it, tried to dispel it but nothing was working.
Slowly he meandered his way out of his office and out onto the street. Of course he knew that was the last place he should be. Surrounded by mostly drunk or otherwise dulled humans was as tempting to him as a hit was to an addict. He needed blood, badly, but he pushed that to the back of his mind as he watched the humans walking around him on the sidewalks. Walking past some bar the intoxicating scent of flesh washed over him and took over his senses.
Without thinking, without realizing it Angel walked into the bar and sat down next to a lonely blonde. She had already had several drinks by the look of it and Angel could tell how easy it would be to take her out back and-
No! he told himself. I will not give in to this. The longer he sat there, though, the more his resolve seemed to crack.
Come on, he heard himself think, you haven't had one in years. Can't you give in just this once? For your own good?
It wasn't his mind, he knew. It was the soulless part of him. Angelus. Just another reason to hate his existence. He couldhear the girl's blood running rhythmically just below her skin. Looking out of the corner of his eye Angel could see it pulsing in her neck.
Quickly he stood, knocking over the bar stool in his hurry to leave. His body fought against him every step of the way. Everything in him said to take her, to drink her. It burned him with a commanding desire. There was such a sweet edge to it, telling him if only he did this then everything would be ok. He wouldn't have to struggle with the bloodlust anymore.
Oh but Angel knew it was a lie. He had been there before and was determined not to go back. Every time you feed the lust it grows. It's like nurturing a child. They cry out for food and you give it to them to quiet them. Ironically the food makes them grow bigger and therefore hungrier. Such a vicious cycle it is.
Once in the street Angel ran, not knowing where he was going. He could remember turning into an alley. He saw a girl, a young girl, not more than 10. She had been crying but all he could think about was the pain, the hunger. It consumed every fiber of his being and controlled his every thought. He took her in his arms and quieted her tears before taking the only thing she had in this world: her life.
As he sat down in his chair back at the office a small smile crossed his face. See now that wasn't so bad was it, whispered Angelus from some deep place within him. But Angel knew better. Guilt wracked his mind.
Why did she have to die? The only answer he could come up with was that she didn't have to die. He had taken another innocent life out of his ignorance and stupidity. Of course he wouldn't tell his friends. They didn't understand what it was like, the bloodlust. They never would. So once again Angel resigned himself to the fact that he was alone in the world.
