Nothing.

Endless nothing. No thought. Or, was understanding that there wasn’t a thought… a thought. Cold radiated everywhere. Deep inky cold, tendrils of pulsing malice wrapped around her like an arctic kraken dragging her to the depths. Pressure built and a low tone, silent and hideous and thunderous all around her. Claws tore at her, this ball of nothing… then a great shuddering lurch forward. 

Suddenly she wasn’t nothing. There was scent, and a lot of it. A background chemical painting, just past what you see. Car exhaust, rubber and acrid asphalt, trash and rot, oh so much rot. But at the forefront? Something sweet. Something copper. Something delicious. A heady red haze that colored every smell.

She could feel the rough concrete with a clarity, every crack and crevice as her fingers twitched and tapped, searching all their own for whatever it was. Then the tackiness, something wet and sticky. Thoughts came, and pain. Her head throbbed and the world spun and pitched; a demented tilt-a-whirl, as she wrenched control of her fingers, then her limbs and scrabbled up. Her nails dug into the brick of the old building as she hunched over, standing on her two feet, fighting to stay up right. Everything was a fight, every movement was its own conscious thought. If I let myself fall, I don’t think I’ll get back up – She couldn’t stop the ice raking down her gut at the thought.

Retching, she forced her eyes open, and stumbled. She could see everything in startling clarity, like being able to see for the very first time. The tiniest cracks in the concrete glared at her, she could make out every tiny imperfection in the brick work. She saw the drying blood, where she thought she must have fallen. There was so much of it.

What happened to me?

At the sight of it, everything lurched again and that red haze flared as blinding as the sun in the back of her mind. Her mouth watered and she knew, she had to have it, whatever it was. Her eyes flicked back to the blood on the ground and she took a tentative sniff. Stale, no good. She flinched at the thought, struggling to make sense of it.

I have to get out of here, I have to-… 

She stumbled forward. One step, then the next, and with each step it came easier, until she came to the end of the alley. Leaning against the wall she peeked out into the open, sniffing at the air again.

 I can smell more of it. Fresh.

Her stomach lurched and cramped in on itself. More than cramped, even, like she was being hollowed out with claws.

“Fuuuu...uck.” She groaned.

Must be what it feels like to be eaten alive… fuck..

Leaning heavy on the wall, she closed her eyes. 

I can smell it, I want it… -- 

She shoved her thoughts down. 

Focus. Focus. Need to get to bike. 

In the distance she could hear the sounds of crunching gravel and… voices. She could hear them with startling clarity, if she focused.

“No dumbass, you can’t take the bike. This cannot look like any kind of robbery.” 

“How do you even know if it was that chick’s?” 

“We don’t. Doesn’t matter. It's a shitty Honda, why do you even want it?” 

I like my shitty Honda, fucker. 

So she stepped out into the moonlit lot, bright as day. She moved towards the men talking. 

There, just the other side of that warehouse. 

She moved quickly and tried to be as quiet as possible. 

I can smell them, smell it. Their blood. 

She licked her lips in… what? She stopped half way towards the building. Something beat loud, clear like a drum, something over the cacophony of the city. Scrabbling claws of scurrying rats screamed to her ears as loud as the swirling eddies in the river. It was so much.

“Don’t resist this. Take it.” 

She jerked her head, looking around. That voice was not those men and tension coiled deeply in her core as she crouched low. 

Where? 

She looked to the left and right, behind her then, finally up. A woman, ethereal like a wraith stood watching. She didn’t move, she didn’t blink, hell she didn’t even breathe that she could tell. A curiosity itched in her mind, and she sniffed at the air again, not used to this… mode of reading the world. 

Something old, like dust and soil, and… blood and rot.

She looked back towards the warehouse, eyeing the alley alongside it. Just through that alley, her bike should sit along the wall she couldn’t see. And those people. She ran her tongue along her teeth, slowly probing at four long and sharp teeth she should not have and her heart frosted over, the icy cage and then… then she realized a curious stillness in her.

No heartbeat. I have no heartbeat 

Her eyes darted back towards the wraith only to find her gone, as cold dread, a grave dread clawed at her throat. She felt as if she would drown any second. 

“Don’t think. Act. Use your instincts. Or don’t and die.” A whisper came from behind her. 

She spun on her heels so fast the world blurred. She looked even more like a wraith up close. Hair so pale it was almost silver cascading down her back. So thin and skin that was almost radiant in the moonlight, and eyes that made the arctic sound like a summer paradise. That curling ball of ice felt like it was the whole of her.

The… person dressed in something so impractical but it looked so fitting on her that anything else seemed absurd. A black cloak loosely wrapped around her with something white and lacy trailing down to just past her knees. Without thinking, Mel took a step back, pulling her arms up to defend.  

“Do you not want your killer's blood?” She spoke, tilting her head. Her voice was soft as rustling leaves, with a chiming that should sound pleasant but only made her coil back.

She very much did, she thought to herself, trying to ignore the burning clawing up her throat and the hollow cramping her stomach. Pain wracked at her, like angry coiling vines down every limb.  

Am I afraid? Hungry? Both? What the fuck is happening to-- 

Her thoughts were interrupted by the crunching of gravel again. Without thought, she whipped her head towards the sound. Again, she sniffed at the air. 

Blood. She could smell it, so close, just out of reach. She could feel her mouth water. Her vision tunneled and she took one step, then another. In a blur of color she stood before them. Two men, burly and rough looking. One gasped in shock, the other seemed to be fiddling with something, doing something, it didn’t matter. Color bled out of the world as she watched the man that saw her drew a gun- 

No! I won’t die, not here.

She stepped forward to knock the gun aside and found herself latching on to the man's neck like a lamprey, with those sharp teeth. They pressed through skin with a satisfying snap and blood surged. Bliss.

It felt like eternity and like the moment passed in the blink of an eye, but the heat, the salty sweet life she took slowed. The heartbeat she could hear slowed to a funeral march, until… nothing. Red haze flooded her vision as she dropped the man’s carcass.