Part 2 - Hunger 1245

The weeks that followed were strange and yet exciting. I was given the lowest rank of the castle's elite guard and made to train with five other new recruits. It seemed our Lady was preparing to defend herself. We were told by our trainer, Sergeant Matteson that we must never be seen outside when the sun was shining. This rule was absolute and a single violation could lead to the destruction of everything we were working for.

I found my previous training with the bow gave me an advantage over my fellow trainees, but each of us was from a different background, and so had different skill. Despite spending time with the horses, I found riding to be a challenge at first, yet some of the others had been riding since childhood. Despite my hunting skills I would often become disoriented in the woodland and require a compass to find my way, where others could navigate naturally.

Another rule we were given was that we must never, under any circumstances, hunt the people in our town. We would be allowed to go and feed once a week, and we must travel to an assigned place. Here we would be required to use our skills to hunt without raising alarm amongst the local people.

The first week of training was hard, the six of us learning how to use our new skills, our bodies reacting in strange new ways to our surroundings. We were told we must not walk amongst the ordinary people until we could control our hunger, a demand I found confusing as I did not carry any such hunger. It was only during the day in our barracks when we were at rest, chatting casually that this fell into place. The other five each confessed to killing their families the moment they arose in their new state. They simply could not control their bloodlust. I, on the other hand, had found my senses went wild only when the terrified girl was brought to me in the ladies chamber. Following this conversation I was left confused, but I knew I would be able to use this to my advantage.

During that first week, Matteson gave us all directions to our feeding grounds. I would be travelling north to a town called Leicester where I would find a suitable victim to provide me with sustenance for the training that would follow. As instructed I travelled by night and arrived in the early hours, camping in the woodland to the south of the town. I lay in wait, watching and waiting as the sun passed high over head and sank into the horizon on the West. Now was the time.

Our instruction was to hunt those who would not be missed. The homeless wraiths, the prostitutes, the old and lonely. I followed this mandate to the letter, selecting a working girl who looked like she could be in her thirties, but was probably only sixteen at most. I approached her as if to proposition her for her services, and lead her into a dark alley. She was far more amicable than I had even hoped for, a result I would later find was due to my newly refined features. She approached me casually and I lay my teeth into her jugular, hot life flowing once more into my mouth. But this time it was not pleasant. It was like the bread and meat I had attempted to eat early in the week, hollow and without taste. When I was done I did not feel satisfied, in fact I felt even more need to eat. Then my questioning mind was provided with an answer.

As I wiped my mouth clean of the tasteless blood of the whore a scream pierced the night. One of her colleagues had come around the corner and spotted the macabre scene I had created, the girl crumpled at my feet and her blood coating my chin. Suddenly my nostrils were flooded with the sweetest aroma. I could almost hear the blood pumping in her veins, and suddenly I was upon her, dragging her back into the alley like some weightless doll. I tore open her throat and drunk deeply from her. This time the taste was perfect. I could feel a fresh strength coursing through me. The feeling was orgasmic, a deep pleasure that I associated with my many rolls in the hay with the girls from the castle kitchens.

I let the body hit the floor and stood for a while, just thinking. So it was fear. The adrenaline flooded into her bloodstream had made it irresistible to me. This would explain why I had been able to speak with my parents after I had risen. It explained why the first girl had tasted so empty, she had not been afraid. In fact I suspect some part of her had know what was coming and had welcomed death.

I quickly disposed of the corpses and made my way back to the castle. The journey seemed much quicker this time, a renewed strength in my legs allowing me to travel at impossible speed. The darkened countryside was to me illuminated like a bright summers day blurring past as I moved, almost above the ground.

Back at the castle there was something happening. I made my way into the barracks to find only four of my companions.

"Where's Albright?" I asked, scanning the room, noticing for the first time how the eyes of the other men seemed to glow bright red.

"I don't know. There seems to be a commotion." Replied Smith, the tallest of our group. A large man with dark black hair and a square face.

"There was something about a killing in the town." Said Williams, a burly red headed scotsman with a thick red beard and a short temper.

Our barrack was a simple stone room in the outer section of the castle. The only furniture was six wooden chairs. This had come as a shock to begin with but soon we found that none of us could sleep. In fact Matteson told us we would never sleep again.

The next face we saw was Mattesons. He burst into the room and ordered us to attention immediately out in the training field where we had been practising our skills. It was surrounded on all sides by high walls, and there was a small hut containing supplies.

Now the area was filled with people. There was a fire blazing in the centre of the space sending wild shadows dancing on the walls despite the lightening sky in the East. We moved toward the group gathered around the fire and there, on his knees, was Albright, the missing member of our group. Two men were on either side of him, holding him down with his arms outstretched. A slight man was standing at the centre of the group, just behind Albright, and when he saw us arrive he stepped forward. I recognised him as one of the Italians from that night in the castle. His face was unforgettable, round like a penny and white like the moon, a wicked smile splitting the lower half. His hair was long and black, tied back in the way of the europeans. When he spoke it was in perfect English, in a voice that could lull a child to sleep. His words, however, were not so relaxing.

"This recruit has violated one of our most absolute rules by feeding in the immediate area to his home. As a lesson to his fellow recruits, he shall be dealt with swiftly and without remorse." And on his signal the two men pulled his arms from his torso. Then the leader tore the head from the offender. He held it for us to see like a trophy, the eyes still flitting wildly. Then he threw the head into the fire.

"Here ends today's lesson." Spoke the leader, before turning and walking into the morning mist.