Vanilla Dusk ✓

Life Part 1

He is starving.

And bored.

His stomach never growls, but there is always this tormenting wave of hunger so immense that he wants to clench and rip anything with his nails, latch his canines onto any piece of skin and wrench out the veins, or pins a creature down before smashing him into a mash and shower in his blood.

That escalating craving. That insatiable need. That exasperating thirst.

He needs flesh. Or blood. Or both.

Or just a touch is fine.

He is pale, so pale a beam of light can penetrate his skin and it becomes translucent, sometimes glistening. His eyes used to be a blend of sapphire and amethyst, but now they are often a darker shade of navy. They seldom blink now. He can stare into the void for a whole day without a flutter. Unless stimulated by peril or threat, the balls don't roll at all. His angular face is stiff and pallid, his slanted nose constantly sniffing awaiting his next prey. His lips are as white as his rumpled, pale feather-like hair with wispy fringe. He haunches forward whenever he walks, his arms swaying on two sides. He trudges, usually, unless he is hunting. Occasionally a grunt escapes his chapped lips.

He looks ill and frail, as his brother always says. Even when they were still alive, his brother would force him to eat more and exercise to get rid of that pasty face and laid-back posture.

Right now, he is tottering towards the spectators' stand. Oh, so very slowly.

The stadium is occupied by lots of his kind. They wander just like him, with hollow eyes and ashen faces. They waver, hobble or crawl. Some look more hideous than others with missing body parts or limbs. When a prey is spotted, they scramble and lunge towards the poor soul.

He vaguely remembers that his name is Elis and nothing else. His brother is Johan and his eyes are cerulean, also dull and unblinking. He is slightly taller than Elis, with short, platinum blond hair, bangs parted to the left, a random curl sticking out of the same side of his head. He has higher cheekbones and a stronger jawline. His cousin, Mateo, looks livelier than all the others, probably because he used to be an extrovert and lie in the sun a lot. His hair is of a darker blond and spiky, resonating with his glee and optimism. He is tall, often with his lips curved slightly upwards. His eyes are droopy but open wider than the others. His brother's two friends, Noah and Tonni, often creep after them. Noah wears glasses and has a long, grim face. He often looks as if he is glaring at someone. His hair is trimmed short and he stands even taller than Mateo. Tonni is small and slender, with a plump, babyish face and round, hazel eyes. There are freckles around his nose and his lips seem to retain a faint shade of pink.

They wobble in a group. Time ceases on their side. Every day is just the same. They don't ever sleep. They starve, but never die, because they've already died once. Their hearts have long stopped beating and there is no exchange of gases in their lungs. They feel numb most of the time, but their other senses remain intact, or even amplified. They can see without a blur, detect the smallest sound within fifty metres, feel rejuvenated upon smelling the first drop of blood and the meal, oh, the human flesh is delectable. They go for hunts together. There are various types of them, some more bestial, aggressive and prone to hunger.

The BEASTS were the first batch of carriers when the virus broke out. Overnight, they multiplied into hordes of bloodthirsty, flesh-craving monsters with bulged eyes, sharp teeth and spider veins. They have been infected for a long time and as time rolls on, their internal organs decay and their blood is drained. They lose their human streaks completely, no longer possessing the intelligence of a man but only instincts of a feral animal. They are incapable of perception, empathy and communication. They constantly look emaciated and shrivelled, their eyes growing more sunken and emptier each passing day, their cracked lips reduced to a thin line. Some or most of their hair has been lost and they are always growling. They have to feast on human flesh to regrow their own and fresh blood is their main source of nutrients. They bounce on any creatures that come in sight. They don't select, plan or think.