Just Joel in this chapter. Careful, it gets a little explicit, a little bloody. I'd love to hear your thoughts on it ~ Please Review.

Don't forget, I don't own the Addams Family, Not even Joel even, though I've changed him beyond recognition!

Enjoy~ TLD

Part Six: Thirst for Life

Joel perched silently, motionlessly in the deep shade of the overgrown woods. His motorcycle leaned against an oak on the edge of the forest, awaiting his return. He'd chose this strip of forest because it had been left untouched by the construction companies that lived to gobble up every bit of flat land in this sprawling suburban desert, and as such, it stretched on for at least a mile in all directions. Private. He liked that.

He'd felt the hunger growing in him all week. The hunger that couldn't be satisfied by normal food, or even donated packets of blood – had he been so inclined. It wasn't the substance he craved. It was the hunt.

Every muscle in his body ached for the hunt. His senses worked on overdrive, trying to catch a hint of that pulsing adrenaline of fleeing prey, trying to hear that tiny pitter-patter of a racing heart, aching to taste that first burst of hot blood on his parched tongue. So he'd come here to this forsaken land. It was teeming with life.

Just not human life.

Unlike his compatriots, Joel avoided drinking human blood – even donated blood, which, of course lacked the depth and richness of blood drawn fresh. He supposed it was a moral choice. He'd never been particularly religious growing up. But, then again, a stint (however short) in Hell can really change a man. He didn't know if it were possible, but he was going to do whatever he could in this life to try and keep himself out of there, should him immortality be cut short.

He'd tasted human blood once. Shortly after rejoining his newly changed body, his new 'family' had taken him hunting. Mad with hunger and with fear and disgust left over from all he'd seen below, Joel was far from rational at the time. So it was with a sickened joy that he was free of the fires and with a complete inability to control the new urges of his changed body that Joel had stalked through the house of the elderly couple living a few doors down from school.

Lilith and the others stood around the outside of the house to prevent escape, as if that'd been necessary. The inhabitants were well into their 60s, and less than spry. Perhaps that is why Lilith that thought them a good first meal.

Joel was silent as he crept through their house, allowing instinct to draw him forward. He came across the woman first. Within seconds he was upon her. She'd barely uttered a squeak as his teeth closed around the pulsing artery in her neck.

He'd almost moaned allowed as the first splash of warm, fragrant blood pulsed into his mouth. It was as if he'd been parched beyond compare and had suddenly tasted water for the first time. It was miraculous.

Suddenly, the experience changed. He was so startled that he nearly dropped his half-drained prey. Instinct kept him clinging. Flickers of images raced before his eyes. He saw a small girl racing after her father as he left, briefcase in hand, for work. He saw her smiling over a birthday cake, clasping hands with a boy at prom, standing before an altar, holding a baby… The images flashed faster and faster. And along with them came feelings, joy, fear, sadness, love, hope, love, love, love. This woman's entire life coursed through Joel, coloring the flavor of her blood.

With a last shuddering 'thump' the woman's heart stopped and the images and feelings ceased. Joel lowered her gently to the floor, stunned at what he'd just experienced. After so much fear and pain, the strong, undiluted love in this woman's life shocked him.

He looked down at his hands, suddenly gaining enough comprehension to understand what he'd just done. His body felt giddy, joyous, drunk almost, on the woman's life, but his mind, his heart, felt confused, conflicted. What was he doing?

His reverie was interrupted as the man walked in the room to check on his wife. Seeing Joel standing over her blood-stained body, her blood dripping from his mouth, the man shouted out, "He-"

He didn't finish the word before Joel's instincts took over and he silenced the man with a quick snap of the neck. As the man's body slumped to the floor, Joel turned to leave, catching his reflection in the mirror.

A new face, a dark, demonic face stared at him with blood red eyes.

Since then, he contented himself with the blood of animals. Their lives, as they flashed through Joel, were not as full of emotions and experiences as a human's, and were thus not as flavorful, but he found them interesting and satisfying all the same – and without the emotional baggage.

His favorite were birds of prey. While small, they provided an exciting and challenging hunt and provided amazing visual memories of their lives. He knew what it was like to fly as a hawk, kestrel, osprey, owl, an eagle, and a falcon. The only downside was that it always took more than one to sate his thirst.

So far today, he hadn't seen a single bird of prey.

Still motionless, he heard the far off pounding of many clawed feet. It was dusk now, so it was time for the hunters to come out. He stalked off in search of the pounding feet, waiting until his sense of smell would catch up with his hearing and give him the exact location of this pack of wolves.

Ah ha! There, he caught the smell. Racing forward with inhuman speed, Joel closed the 500 feet between him and his prey in seconds. Once within sight, he froze before creeping closer slowly, not wanting to alarm his prey.

At once, the alpha male looked up, scenting the intruder into their clearing. With a sharp growl, the alpha signaled the pack, and suddenly, Joel found himself surrounded.

He rose from his crouch, extending himself to his full height, and smirked at the circling beasts. He admired their attitude. They saw him as dinner. He felt a small wave of pity for them – they'd never encountered anyone like himself before, how could they know that they were, in fact, his dinner?

He waited, tensing for the spring, feeling his body react with glee as it anticipated the coming brawl. He hadn't been in a fight in a while; his body was pumped for it. Shutting off his mind, he allowed the beast within him to take over, and suddenly a threatening growl ripped up his throat – an answer to the growls all around him.

On some unseen signal, the wolves pounced in unison on Joel. Growling and tearing and biting and yelping filled the clearing until Joel was left alone, drinking the final drops of blood from the fallen alpha. Bodies of similarly killed wolves lay scattered at his feet.

Joel wiped the blood from his lips and inspected the damage done to his person. A few cuts and scrapes decorated his arms and neck, and one deep bite into his thigh bled profusely. Damn, he thought, I missed that one. Ripping his clothing and wrapping his thigh to staunch the bleeding, Joel made his way, decidedly more slowly, back to his bike, reveling in the beautiful memories of the wolves.