I'd done it again.
I had just regained my senses and was horrified at my blood covered clothes and jacket. A few hours earlier, I suffered a really intense bout of hunger and the last thing I remembered, I was prowling around the woods, looking for something to eat. And now that I had snapped out of it, I was now knelt down next to a deer corpse, covered in blood and guts, the horrible stench of death and blood filling my nostrils.
I quickly stood up and took a few steps back. I looked at my blood covered hands, disgusted. Ugh, I icked. What a mess…
I examined my surroundings and recognized my location. I'd been to this part of the woods before, so my house wasn't too far away. My parents wouldn't be home at this time; I'd just come home from school.
I trekked back towards my house and entered through the back door, went to the basement and put my bloodstained jacket and clothes to wash. I then showered, put on a fresh set of clothes and sighed, relieved.
I put my homework on my desk and sat down on my chair, trying to put focus into my work. I still couldn't stop thinking about what I did, though. And worst of all, it wasn't the first time I'd done this.
All of this began when I hit puberty. It was minor at first, just killing small animals like squirrels and mice. However, my hunger became so strong to the point where I would lose control without me realizing it until afterward. Soon, I was slaying deer, coyotes and the like. I became scared of myself. I haven't hurt or killed people yet, but what if I did?
Somehow, I was able to finish my homework and put it away. I went downstairs and opened the fridge for a snack. My hand reached for a package of raw meat; fortunately, I stopped myself and grabbed a soda instead.
As I took a swig, the soda bubbles fizzed in my mouth and throat. "Haaahh…" I breathed. "Better than raw meat."