By Bryan Smith
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He wanted it. Needed it more than ever. The compulsion to drink blood filled his brain like a fever, just as it had in those first frenzied moments of his undeath. The gnawing, churning ache of the need was already nearly intense enough to drive him mad should he be unable to slake the thirst. He wanted to scream. He opened his mouth to do just that. But before he could give voice to the howling need consuming him, a weak sound from somewhere to his left stilled his rage, if only for a moment. His willed his body to stop shaking and turned his head toward the source of the sound.
No, David. You love me. ” David sneered. ” He surprised himself with a laugh. Even more surprising was the pronounced disdain in the sound. “Hell, I don’t even know your goddamned name. I only love one woman and her name is—” Her mouth opened in that unnaturally wide way again, her eyes bulging from their sockets as her jaw distended and a scream loud enough to shatter skyscraper windows filled the cavern. The sound went on and on, increasing in volume with seemingly each passing second as the black hole at the center of her face grew wider.
He was back in the creature’s secret place. That hellish chamber. He heard the moans of the shackled prisoners and the clank of their shifting chains. He blinked and stared up at the high roof of the cavern. The bodies of dead men hung suspended from chains directly above him. Their limp forms filled him with a strange despair. No blood to be had there. He stared at the slowly twisting dead bodies some more. Wait. Dead? Like me? Or…not? Well, surely he’d been wrong about that. He’d merely been unconscious.