Eric stood frozen, chest heaving with shallow breaths. The man's unconscious form lay vulnerable on the cold stone, the monstrous presence that had filled the cave fading, replaced by an eerie stillness. Yet, deep inside Eric, something darker stirred—something his fading human instincts could no longer suppress.
He glanced toward the mouth of the cave, where the sunlight poured in, warm and brilliant, illuminating the dust in golden streaks. The sun had fully risen now, its light harsh and bright, forcing Eric to retreat deeper into the shadows of the cave. He lingered there, at the edge of darkness, where the sun's touch would have burned him alive, had he dared step into it.
He knew he should leave. Every instinct screamed at him to get out while the creature was unconscious, to flee into the safety of the dark. But something rooted him to the spot. Eric's eyes flicked back to the man's pale form, lying so still and quiet, and an uncomfortable weight settled in his chest.
Stay.
The word formed in his mind like an inevitability, heavy and pressing. There was no reason for it, no logic behind the impulse—yet he couldn't ignore it. His gaze lingered on the man, and against his better judgment, Eric found himself sinking to his knees in the farthest corner of the cave, where the darkness offered some measure of safety from the sun's brutal rays. He wrapped his arms around himself, pressing his back to the cool stone wall, but the hunger, that gnawing, unrelenting hunger, began to creep in.
It had been growing for hours now, ever since he had been drawn into this cave. He was newly turned, barely understanding the extent of his condition. The thirst was a constant, dull ache, but here, now, in the silence of the cave, with the scent of blood so near—he could feel it intensifying. His throat burned, dry and ragged, and the edges of his vision blurred, darkened by the desperate need coursing through him.
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore it, to push it down, but the smell. That scent.
It hit him like a wave, so subtle at first—a faint, intoxicating fragrance that grew stronger the longer he sat in the darkness. His nostrils flared, and his senses sharpened. It was warm, rich, and sweet, like nothing he had ever smelled before. It called to him, wrapping around his mind like a velvet vice. The more he tried to resist, the stronger it became, like a lure he couldn't escape.
Eric opened his eyes again, and his gaze found the man's body, still motionless in the center of the cave. He stared at him, the white of his skin gleaming faintly in the shadows, his chest rising and falling in slow, even breaths. That scent—it was coming from him.
Eric's hands clenched against the stone beneath him, his fangs pressing painfully into his bottom lip. The hunger, the thirst, it was unbearable now. His vision pulsed with red, and his body felt as though it were burning from the inside out. His muscles tensed, and he fought to remain still, his instincts screaming at him to feed, to drink, to end the gnawing pain that consumed him.
His eyes flicked once more to the unconscious man. The scent was stronger now, overwhelming, filling every corner of the cave. His mind felt heavy, clouded, and before he knew what he was doing, Eric's body moved on its own.
He crawled forward, each movement slow, deliberate, his limbs trembling as he drew closer. His breaths came faster, shallow and ragged, his mouth dry and aching. The intoxicating scent grew stronger with every inch he moved, until he was upon the man, kneeling beside his limp form.
Eric's heart pounded in his chest, a wild, erratic rhythm that matched the feverish hunger within him. His eyes, wide and dilated, fixed on the curve of the man's neck—the place where the intoxicating scent was strongest. He leaned down, closer, unable to resist any longer, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply.
The man's scent flooded his senses. It was exquisite, like the richest wine, but also dark, laced with something ancient, something powerful. Eric's head spun, and his hands shook as he reached out, placing his palm on the man's chest, feeling the slow, steady rise and fall of his breath.
His fingers trembled as they ghosted over the man's cool skin. His body felt firm and strong, yet fragile beneath Eric's touch. He could feel the faint pulse of blood beneath the surface, and it called to him like nothing else ever had.
Eric's lips parted, and he let out a shuddering breath, his fangs aching, throbbing with need. He leaned in further, his face just inches from the man's neck, where the skin was smooth and unblemished. The pale curve of his throat was so inviting, so vulnerable, and Eric could almost taste the blood that pulsed beneath it.
His nose brushed against the crook of the man's neck, the scent enveloping him, and his mouth hovered just above the skin. He could feel the heat radiating from the man's body, could hear the steady thrum of his heart deep within his chest. It was maddening. The hunger, the need, it clawed at him, pulling him closer, demanding he take what he so desperately craved.
For a brief moment, Eric's mind screamed at him to stop, to pull away, to resist. But it was too late. His will crumbled under the weight of his thirst. His lips brushed against the man's cool skin, and the intoxicating scent overwhelmed him completely.
And then, without thinking, without hesitation, Eric's fangs pierced the flesh.
The first drop of blood flooded his mouth, hot and sweet, more potent than anything he had ever imagined. His eyes fluttered shut, and a low, guttural groan escaped his throat as the taste consumed him. The blood was unlike anything he had ever tasted----laced with so much power.
As Eric's fangs pierced the pale flesh, the world around him vanished, dissolving into nothing but the rush of hot, thick blood flooding his senses. He latched onto the man's neck, sinking deeper into the bite, his lips pressed against the cool skin as he drank.
The unconscious man stirred beneath him, his body shifting ever so slightly, and from deep within his chest came a soft, barely audible moan—a sound that sent a violent shudder through Eric's body. It was as if the man's blood sang to him, pulling him further into the abyss of his hunger, drowning out any sense of control he might have had.
Eric's eyes fluttered shut, his grip tightening instinctively around the man's body. His fingers dug into the man's shoulders, his nails scraping against the skin as his strength surged, uncontrolled and wild. His arms coiled tighter around the man, pulling him closer, almost crushing him against his chest. The muscles in Eric's arms bulged, his grip ironclad, lethal—strong enough to kill any regular person in an instant.
But the man in his arms was no regular person.
Even unconscious, the man's body didn't break under Eric's crushing hold. His bones didn't crack, his flesh didn't bruise. Instead, his chest rose in a sudden gasp, his lips parting in response to the violent embrace. A soft, breathy sound escaped him, almost a whimper, as though even in his unconscious state, he could feel the pleasure and the pain of the bite. His head lolled to the side, exposing more of his neck to Eric's ravenous mouth.
The scent of blood filled the air, thick and overwhelming, clouding Eric's mind completely. His fangs sank deeper, pulling more blood from the man's veins, and with each swallow, Eric felt himself slipping further into a frenzy. His body trembled, his muscles tightening as the hunger overtook him.
His eyes, which had been a dull, shadowy red before, now flared with a deeper, more intense crimson. The irises glowed like embers in the dark, and the whites of his eyes darkened, veins spreading outward like cracks in glass. Thin, black veins began to appear around his eyes, crawling across his tanned skin like dark tendrils of corruption, twisting and writhing as the bloodlust consumed him. He could feel his control slipping away, vanishing under the tidal wave of need that surged through him.
Eric's breathing quickened, harsh and ragged, his chest heaving with each gulp of blood. His body moved on its own now, primal and animalistic, pulling the man tighter into his arms, his fingers pressing into the man's skin with bruising force. The man's body shuddered in response, another soft moan escaping his lips, his eyelids fluttering though he remained unconscious. The sound only spurred Eric on, driving him deeper into the frenzy.
His grip tightened even further, his arms constricting like a vice around the man's chest. Eric could feel the muscles beneath the skin, hard and unyielding, yet strangely pliant against his strength. Any ordinary human would have been crushed, ribs snapping like twigs, organs rupturing under the pressure. But this man—this creature in his arms—endured it all, his body strong enough to withstand Eric's deadly embrace, yet still so vulnerable in this moment.
Eric's teeth sank deeper, his fangs now fully embedded in the man's neck, and he pulled at the blood with violent urgency. The sensation was intoxicating, maddening, and he couldn't stop. His senses were on fire, every nerve ignited by the taste, the scent, the warmth of the man's blood. It filled him, sustained him, but at the same time, it made him feel as though he could never have enough.
A low growl rumbled in Eric's throat as he pulled the man closer still, their bodies flush against each other now. His arms flexed, tightening around the man's torso until the muscles in his own body strained with the effort. He could feel the man's heartbeat, slow and steady, pounding in his chest like a drumbeat, reverberating through Eric's own body. Each pulse sent another wave of hot blood into his mouth, and Eric drank greedily, his hunger insatiable.
The man gasped again, his body jerking ever so slightly in Eric's grip. His breathing became shallow, his chest rising and falling in uneven, ragged breaths, but still, he didn't wake. His skin, so pale and smooth, glistened in the dim light of the cave, and the mark of Eric's bite stood out like a vivid, crimson stain on the side of his neck.
Eric's body jerked as he finally tore his fangs away from the man's neck, his breath ragged and trembling, his chest heaving. His senses were overwhelmed, his entire body flooded with the man. He had never felt anything like it before, the strength that surged through him, the raw energy that now pulsed in his veins. But as the haze of bloodlust began to fade, the weight of what he had done crashed over him, sending a shock of horror through his system.
The man, limp in his arms, looked as though he were merely sleeping. The violent bite mark on his neck was gruesome, jagged, with blood still glistening on his pale skin and exposed veins.The sight of it, so stark, so raw, made Eric's stomach turn. He had lost control again. He had let the hunger consume him.
With a strangled gasp, Eric shoved the man away, his arms trembling as he released his grip. The man's body crumpled to the floor with a heavy thud, landing awkwardly on the cold stone. Eric staggered back, his legs nearly giving out beneath him, the taste of blood still lingering on his lips. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing the blood across his lips in a frantic motion, as though trying to rid himself of the evidence of what he had done.
His mind was spinning, the horror of his actions sinking in. He had fed—fed like an animal, without thought, without control. The hunger had taken over, and he had nearly torn the man apart. But then, as Eric watched, something extraordinary began to happen.
The jagged bite marks, the deep punctures left by Eric's fangs, started to knit themselves back together. The torn flesh mended at an alarming rate, the veins retracting beneath smooth, pale skin. The man's neck, once marked by the violence of Eric's bite, was healing right before his eyes, the raw wound sealing itself until nothing but faint traces of blood remained. Within seconds, the skin was flawless, unmarred, as though Eric's vicious attack had never happened.
Eric's breath caught in his throat. His eyes widened, the red in his irises fading as shock replaced the hunger that had once consumed him. How was it possible? The man had endured the attack, his body healing with unnatural speed. There wasn't a single scar, not a trace of the violent feeding that had just occurred.
The man lay still on the cold ground, his chest rising and falling in a steady, rhythmic pattern, as if in peaceful slumber. His face was calm, serene even, his long white hair fanned out around him like a halo, contrasting starkly against his bone-white skin. His lashes, long and pale, fluttered softly as if he were dreaming, completely oblivious to what had just transpired.
Eric stumbled backward, retreating into the shadows of the cave, his back pressed against the damp stone wall. His heart pounded in his chest, the blood he had consumed still coursing through him like fire. He could feel the power it had given him—the strength, the heat—but now it felt like poison. He had fed from this creature, this man, and yet the man still lay there, untouched, unscathed by the violence.
He watched from the shadows, his gaze fixed on the man's motionless form. His own breath came in shallow gasps, his body tense, as if expecting the man to wake at any moment. But the man remained still, his body now fully healed, the only evidence of what had happened being the faint scent of blood in the air.
Eric pressed his back harder against the stone, his eyes glowing faintly in the darkness as he tried to control the turmoil raging within him. He couldn't understand what had just happened. Who—or what—was this man? And why, even a
fter such a brutal attack, did he lie there as though nothing had happened at all?