A/N: Thank you everyone for returning for some more vampire Erik yumminess! Now, the first chapter was pretty mild with the rating labeled, but this one… definitely lives up to the M name. I want to add… please read this at your discretion. There might be some scenes that could be difficult to stomach (at least that's how my friends describe my writing sometimes but I don't know what they mean *bats eyes innocently*) and yeah… I did have some fun with the imagery. I'm a horror fangirl at heart so what can you expect? Please don't forget to review!

And Happy Thanksgiving to everyone! As for me… I'm going to be getting ready to work the midnight shift Thursday night. Yay!

Synopsis- Erik discovers that he is no longer human…

Bloodlust

Clarity slowly began to return to him.

The first thing he could recall was the rotten coppery stench… And the warm metallic taste that tasted sweeter than any elixir he ever had.

Then he felt something sticky and as he gazed down at his hands… he gasped in horror to see them dripping in blood, his clothes spattered with blood and other human articles.

Bile began to rise in his throat, but the initial feeling to vomit never came to pass, and instead he let out a ragged choked sound. It was rather ironic considering he had committed various murders over the decades and never once felt ill about doing them, yet now… the sight of so much blood on his person made him dreadfully ill.

What had happened?

When the first wave of shock wore off, Erik was able to take in more of his surroundings… and to see from who the blood came from.

What greeted his sight… he trembled all over, the word "no" repeating on his lips.

Carnage.

That was the only way to describe the scene.

There was a male torso in the middle of the room; the head completely severed and bashed in from ferocious strength laid in a bloody pool beside the naked chest; the stomach was torn and ripped, the organs pulled out in a messy tangle of knots, and the limbs had also been scattered about the room.

It was like a wild animal had ravaged the poor devil.

But it was a different sight that captured Erik's attention, one that filled him with such horror and despair that he closed his eyes and prayed it was only a terrible nightmare.

When he opened them, the same sight haunted him and he slowly shook his head, moaning low in his throat.

Christiana… his beloved Christiana… was lying at his feet. Dead.

Her face forever frozen with terror in them—her soft, blonde locks were bloodied and torn from her scalp; her throat practically was inside out, but the rest of her body remained unmolested.

All the violence was done on her partner.

Erik took a step back, stumbling backwards, as his memory flashed before his eyes.

She was in the stagehand's embrace when he broke down the door. A rage unlike any other ran through his body that he blocked the stinging feeling as he crossed the border into the apartment and leapt on the man first. With one swift punch the man was on the ground when he started to pull him apart.

Christiana had started to shout and he knew he had to silence her before he could finish and he whirled upon her… backhanding her hard that she flew against the sofa, turning it over as she fell.

He smashed the flawless, handsome face in his bare hands and dropped it beside the ravaged body before going towards the singer who was beginning to regain consciousness.

Something within him was driving him to take… to drink… And he seized her with one hand while diving towards her… his teeth biting down hard and pulling the flesh out like a tenderized piece of meat.

Any sounds she tried to make were weakened and muffled as blood sprayed over her front and face.

He then remembered how moments prior he had seen Luciana—a ghost he believed was long dead—and how she bit him and forced her hand on his lips, coating him with her blood. He remembered how he had blacked out and when he came to… she was telling him where to go and that he was to kill all who were in the apartment.

He had no control over his limbs as he obeyed the command and now… now… he felt his body was free from such power and the pain he felt earlier when entering was gone.

But nothing could change the fact that he had murdered his love and he had drunk her blood as if it were water.

Flee.

He had to flee.

Erik turned and ran from the grisly scene; the instinct to escape lest he should be discovered with the murders fueled his speed as he hurried to the opera house. He did not stop running until he was in the safety of the catacombs and upon entering his house on the lake… Erik collapsed into his coffin, sleep engulfing him.

xxXXxx

He didn't know how long he had slept, but when he woke, he was stunned to find it was evening once more.

As quickly as that knowledge entered his mind, a hunger… so primal and strong hit him so hard that Erik almost bent over in its wake.

Feed… was the only thought. He needed to feed to make that feeling go away.

The little amount of food he had in his home did nothing for his appetite and stirred even less interest. No… the only craving that would do was the familiar sweet taste of passion-filled blood. He couldn't even show his disgust that it had been Christiana's sweet blood that he gorged on. No, he had only one feeling now and that was to find fresh sustenance.

He quickly changed his clothes, tossing the stained ones into his lake to hide the crime he had done. He slipped on his mask and grabbed his fedora and was soon out walking the streets of Paris with hundreds of heartbeats pounding in his head.

One in particular was ringing the loudest and it was very close…

He couldn't explain what happened next, but his body knew exactly where to go and he blindly followed. An unexplainable thrill of anticipation went through him and after turning down an alley… he saw a young man staggering about thirty feet away. His nostrils picked up the cheap scent of alcohol and perfume, but above all, he smelled the sweet nectar flowing through his veins.

Preparing himself, Erik swiftly moved towards him, a soft breeze passing through him. He felt a slight stab of pain that came over his face that it jarred his mask. Erik quickly drew it off and stuffed it in his pocket before lunging at the man.

Within seconds, the body was depleted of its life and as Erik stashed the body away in the alley, he could still feel the hunger pangs.

He needed more.

xxXXxx

A week passed and so did the news of a butcher walking the streets of Paris.

A dozen corpses were found throughout the city—half were missing parts of their bodies (although to be fair… they had been struggling). People were frightened to go out at night and only the brave, the foolish, and the stupid would walk around.

Even the performers and dancers at the Opera house seemed to be more terrified of this unknown assailant than of the Opera Ghost! If they only knew that they were one in the same!

But below the world and the sunlight… Erik was coming to terms with this nocturnal lifestyle. If anything… it seemed to be quite fitting since he rarely went out during the day. He knew that if he felt tempted to go out when it was day, then it would prove to be hazardous. It was that pure instinct that aided him to return to the Opera house before the sun rise after he spent the evening indulging his bloodlust.

Did it disgust him that he only had the appetite for human blood?

In the beginning, yes. But now… it was the only taste he could find satisfaction in and he liked that every new victim would give him this renewal surge of strength. It made him feel alive in more ways than he felt when he had been human. The more blood he engorged on, the more powerful he felt and the more his senses became acute.

It was certainly a whole new world in this perspective.

Yet, while a part of him thrived on this new change, a part of him was also horrified that his first victim had been Christiana. Since that night, Erik had not touched a single piece of music nor had he continued his Opera Ghost hauntings. He did not feel the inspiration to compose not when she had been his muse. It would appear that music was losing favor in his eyes.

And when he heard the replacement singer for Christiana—singing what should have been her role—Erik destroyed his organ and violin, smashing the instruments like they were nothing and burned all his scores. He could not write another piece of music not when it was not Christiana's voice that would be singing. The music was all for her and all that remained was the poor excuse of an opera he had left for the production to perform.

No… no more music.

Not when it should be his penance for snatching an angel before her prime.

But Erik was a man of creativity and ingenuity. Something had to take its place to fuel that drive and he found it in his new craving for blood and death.

He had to be careful. He couldn't keep leaving his discarded waste or else he might get caught.

Another precaution he had to take was the number of people he fed on per night.

He was starting to recognize how much blood he needed to survive and how the rest was only for enjoyment. He would have to stop killing for the joy of it and focus on killing for his survival.

Erik would see how many days he would last before the hunger would overwhelm him. That and he were learning that not all blood was the same or equal in its potency. However, the younger they were and the healthiest would keep him occupied for a while. And even people in their prime were just as filling as the youth. Not to mention that purity was at the top of the list, but finding someone that pure on the streets was next to impossible.

But it was definitely a treat if Erik came across one.

His new tactic was to lure his victims back to his house where he could play with them before feeding. It started with a simple kidnapping—knocking them unconsciousness—but later Erik discovered he could control them with his words.

With a command, the poor souls would willingly follow him to his house on the lake where he would make his guests comfortable (being bound of course) and when it was time, he would Change and thus listen to their musical screams.

The knowledge of the demon possessing him was always there. It was the only way to describe the feelings he had. But to see it firsthand came when Erik passed a store window while stalking a potential prey and he saw what he became when the hunger came over him.

It was startling to say the least that he abandoned the chase.

Now… he was truly a monster.

The man in him was horrified by this, but the demon was furious that it missed out on the hunt. It demanded blood in return and Erik fulfilled the request by taking two young adolescents.

Their deaths brought little happiness to him, but the demon was appeased with the gesture.

God help him… he needed help.

Next: Bloodlust 2—Erik's bloodlust continues and the news of the murders reach a familiar visitor.