Your eyes shift away from your mirror image to his companion, and a sharp pang of anguish wracks your body and mind. Long-forgotten memories of a partner you once cherished float before you, marred by the deep gash on their forehead, a bloody omen of an unforgivable betrayal that will never truly be forgotten, no matter how distant your un-death draws you from your earlier life.
In this moment of pure animal desperation, all you can think of, all you want in the world is to hold your friend tight to you, to relive some of what has been lost, to heal your mind as well as your body. This unearthly desire proves too great to resist, and you draw forward, embracing your friend and pulling her close. She struggles at first, but eventually yields to your touch, a deep groan of pleasure on her lips. The feeling is euphoric. Hot tears stream down your cheeks and your chest constricts with gut-wrenching emotion as your embrace spans what feels like hours of pure bliss. And then there is pain. You're able to ignore it at first, but it returns with a vengeance as your friend is torn from your arms, a sad smile etched on her lips.
"No!" the word rips its way out from the bottom of your black and shriveled lungs. "Not again!" Your eyes shift to the demon pulling your friend away, and you recognize yourself in its face once again. Not as you once were, but as you are now—soul twisted and shriveled, a gaping maw with protruding fangs. You leap forward, ripping your doppelganger away from his prey before plunging your teeth into his neck. "Not…ever…again!" you grunt against his flesh, crimson bubbles flowering at the edges of your mouth as you scream defiance even while you drain your personal demon dry. When at last he breathes no more, you fall back, triumphant exultation fading as your body finishes knitting itself together again. Reality settles around you again, and you feel a biting sting of dread as you turn to take in the true scene.
The mutilated body of a young man lies sprawled on the ground, his neck torn open and hanging at an unnatural angle, expression locked in sheer terror and disbelief. He's tightly grasping the hand of another mortal—he'd somehow held on even as you drained the life from his body. Unlike her partner, the surviving young woman has yet to succumb to oblivion—irregular breathing causes her chest to rise and fall and her eyes drift listlessly until they alight on you, your lips and chin slathered in a mix of blood from both your victims. She tries to scream, but finds herself unable to summon the necessary breath, and all that comes from her lips is the pitiful squeak of a prey animal. She's dying. She knows it. You know it.
"I don't want to die here," she rasps, her knuckles going white as she clutches her dead partner's hand.
Your head is spinning as you sink to your knees before the woman, unable to banish the vision of your friend's face. Her expression of betrayal was not at all dissimilar to the gaze of this young woman, soft eyes searching for answers and wondering why—how you could have done such a thing.
"Please," she whimpers.