The Hunger

It tastes pretty well; that is one fact these soldiers fail to understand. Blood is tastier than this junk you see in the stores. But they do not know this. Now they are paid to kill vampires; to kill the only people who know how well-tasting blood is. No, I am not surprised. Humans are one poorly-humored species. I do not feel proud to say that once I was one of them. We all do things we aren’t proud of, of course. I have seen the light, embraced the truth; there is no way I am going to say no to that. There is no way I am going to allow that needle with the cure to pierce my skin. No. Not ever.

I am the leader of my pack. I am the only vampire in my pack. I just do not like sharing something as tasty as human skin with any other person. It totally takes the fun out of it. Shit. Gunshots. Humans are here again. Do they forget that I am on Auto-heal? Oh, dumb humans. Well, more meat for me. No, tonight I crave the meat of a child. The skin of a child in my mouth, my two sharp incisors biting into his soft skin. Oh… His blood, smooth like the water off of a fountain gracing the neck, filling my mouth with perfection, with the unmistakable feeling of good food, like good milk.

So, I slowly creep out of the bush, away from the shooting soldiers. I do not
have time for such games tonight. I come into full view of an empty street;
there are houses on each side. I pick the first one on the right. Blue roof. One story building. I crawl up the nearest window, and a jackpot lies asleep in front of me. Oh! How lucky I am! There is a little boy, probably eight or nine years old, sound asleep on his bed.

I am in his room now, his heartbeat almost echoing through the whole room. I jump on his bed, to see his eyes widen. Immediately, he screams and tries in vain to get away from me. Does nobody tell these humans? You can’t get away from me! Swiftly, I run my hand over his mouth and slowly push my shiny knife through his neck. He gulps in pain, choking. I put my mouth to his neck, to have a taste of the blood he was allowing go to waste. I sniff his neck and then proceed to bite it slowly.

Oh. My. God! I have never tasted something this good. The boy ceases breathing when I pull out a chunk of his flesh with my teeth. I
chew it with glee, smiling. I then proceed to open his cloth. Beautiful, white
skin. With my fingers, I forcefully open his stomach which then reveals my
favorite meat: the intestines. The door barges open.

Oh! His parents.

“Where are your manners?” I bark, “I am eating!”

The mother lets out a cry of help. You know how the story continues. Do I have to tell you how I eat my meal every night?

–  Folúsọ́ Adebomi-Vaughan