Blaise's eyes flickered open slowly, his breathing slow and measured. There was something different, but he couldn't figure out what. The prison of blue light was gone and his original surroundings seemed to have come back. His hand came up to rub his face and cradle his head, but as he brought it up towards him, it shook wildly. There was a deep hunger inside of him. It called out for something, but still he couldn't put his finger on what. His lips curled upwards into a snarl, without him calling for them to do so. He looked down at his skin. Instead of the gentle, copper tan, it was a stark white colour, as white as fresh snow. His already ripped jeans were almost torn to shreds and his t-shirt was ripped horizontally by the beam of light. A strand of hair blew into his face, without thinking, he moved it aside. Only a few minutes later, he realized something was wrong with it. Instead of the usual russet colour, the end of the strand was a deep black, but even stranger was the rest of the strand. It was a deep crimson colour.
All of that was pushed out of his mind, as the great thirst that he felt took over his body. His nostrils filled with a coppery scent in the distance. His head snapped around to that direction. His body sprang up with surprising speed and without thinking, his legs sprinted, following the scent. They blurred with an inhuman speed that scared Blaise in ways he had never been scared before. It was as if someone else had taken over his body and the real Blaise had no control. His eyes scanned the surrounding area for predators, but found nothing, so his feet pounded on.
After only a few seconds, he reached a gate with barbed wire. Again, without having to think about the command to his body, he leapt over the gate with ease and extreme speed. His eyes fell to the ground, noticing a smeared trail of blood, leading away around a small hill. He dabbled his finger in the blood and put it up to his nose, sniffing it curiously. Tentatively, he licked the crimson liquid. His head tilted back. His knees went weak. His eyes rolled back and closed. His back arched. His breath quickened. Two blades of death slid from their lair in his gums, coming almost in line with the rest of his teeth. Almost. The sharp points jutted out from the line of his teeth, slick with saliva. The hunger inside just grew. And it took over. Blaise knelt, dragging his body on all-fours, pressing his tongue to the trail until he got to the cause of the sanguine trail.
As he rounded the corner of the hill, two hulking wolves gnawed at some sort of carcass. Their teeth gnashed at the arms, spraying droplets of blood and chunks of flesh all around. Blaise's vision blurred red and before he knew what he was doing, he was throwing the wolves off. One jumped up at him, pawing at him with its blood stained claws. Its fur was grey as ash, covered in midnight black markings on its head and chest. Its right eye was canary yellow and its left was gnarled and scarred. It's ears were torn and twisted. Its fur was shaggy and already matted with blood. The wolf itself was lanky, but clearly muscled and an experienced fighter. It snarled scarily from its crinkled muzzle. Blaise threw it off, throwing it down to the ground by its muzzle. It leapt back up, ripping at his throat with its canines. Black blood spurted from the wound, only worsening Blaise's bloodlust. He stuck out his fingers and prodded it in the throat, opening up a wound. Then he grabbed its muzzle and slammed it to the floor, not realizing the strength behind the action. As it hit its jaw on the compact ground, its eyes snapped closed, but its flank still bobbed up and down with breath.
His eyes locked in with the oozing blood, snaring him in a trance long enough for the other wolf to leap onto his back, clawing at him and biting around his neck. He pulled the wolf's tail, prizing it off his back and whirled around to look at the wolf. This time, it was a black wolf with grey legs and black paws. Its fur was sleeker, but still splattered with blood, its claws soaked in it. Its right eye was a piercing golden jewel, glaring at him with contempt. Its left was gnarled and scarred, like the other wolf's right eye. This one was taller and more muscled, clearly the worse adversary. On its chest and stomach, its already black fur grew even darker, turning from a soot colour to a deep, jet black. But there was something different about this wolf. Something strange. Its left ear seemed perfectly normal, but its right ear seemed to have a silver ring around it, contrasting the midnight black of its ears and glinting in the pale moonlight. The ring looked almost like a human piercing, strange for a wolf. It didn't seem to like Blaise's staring and sprang at him, claws outstretched. Its left paw clawed at his right eye, leaving three long, diagonal claw marks, dripping black blood. Blaise cried out in pain and anger. He struck down with the edge of his fist onto the wolf's nose. It yelped in surprise, falling to the ground, eyes streaming. Blaise orchestrated a series of kicks and attacks he didn't even know he could perform and more blood seeped out of the wolf, only causing Blaise to quicken. Not long after, he grew tired of the attacks and strongly punched down onto the wolf's exposed jaw, knocking it out, just like its companion.
Bending down, Blaise slurped up some of the beast's blood from the ground. He turned to its form, sinking his fangs deep into its soft flesh, ignoring the thick fur surrounding it. Rolling his eyes back, he drank deeply from the wound. The blood rushed into his mouth, quenching his thirst like a fine wine. For a moment, he was content. Then, he sniffed the air, smelling out the delicious, coppery scent of fresh blood. Human blood. His hunger was still gnawing at him from the inside. For a few paces, he advanced, but he stopped short of the creature lying helplessly on the ground when he heard sobbing emanating from it. It was hunched over in a ball, clutching its injured arms. Something clicked inside of him. Something reminded him of a past life, a forgotten past. The heaving ball had a plume of black and red hair running down its back. Its clothes were cut and tattered, but he recognized those spiked cuffs… that leather choker… those facial rings… that jacket… his jacket. "R… Ray?" He whispered, barely able to get the words out. "I…" He looked down at her with sadness stinging his eyes. She turned her head slightly, tears flowing down her cheeks like a stream. "A- Ace? Is that…?" As the words came out of her mouth, her face moved from sadness to abject horror. Blaise stared down at himself, noticing the blood on his hands for the first time. He aggressively wiped at his face as the sanguine liquid trickled slowly down his chin. His eyes widened, his mouth hung open, mirroring Raven's expression of horror. In a split second, his lips curled into a snarl, his eyes focused only on his prey's wounds. Again he advanced, his arms hanging loosely at his sides, his fingers curled into knives, ready to attack at any moment. Within the few paces it took to get to Raven, Blaise stopped and his real personality resurfaced no less than three times to question what was going on and beg for forgiveness and reality. But by the time he got to her, it was too late. The bloodlust had taken over.