The Beast Inside

Red

Red. It was everywhere, covering everything, a deep color dripping from everything. Mark stands in the midst of it, his clothing stained the same deep red, dripping from his fingers, and glinting off of his razor sharp teeth.

His mouth curves into a pleased grin. His smile simply grows as his animalistic brown eyes move over his work, the mangled bodies laid at his feet in a pile. And only one thought echoed through his head.

'I want more.'

Mark sits up quickly, his eyes opening instantly trying to get rid of the sight of red. But it doesn't go away. He clenches his eyes shut, silently telling himself to relax, but when his eyes open again he still sees it.

Red.

His breathing quickens as he swings his feet over the side of the bed, looking down at himself. A deep red stained his clothing and splattered across his arms. He reaches a hand up to his face and only feels more of the warm liquid, the fresh liquid. The taste of copper lingered in his mouth, a sickening taste that a part of him longed for.

He stands quickly walking over to the desk and looking at himself in the small dirty mirror. It was in fact blood that covered his body, just like in his dream. He felt his teeth in his mouth, they were still slightly sharpened as though he hadn't completely gone back to his human form. He sucks in a few breaths, clenching his eyes shut, silently praying that it was a dream, but as he opens them again the realization hits him.

It wasn't just a dream.

"Maybe I just killed a deer..."

He mutters to himself softly, taking a few shaky steps away from the mirror, unable to look at his crazed appearance any more. A part of him knew it wasn't a deer, however he stuck to that mentality. He wasn't a killer, he couldn't be.

He unsteadily makes his way back to the bed and looks down at the clean clothes, silently thankful that he hadn't changed before going to bed.

Quickly stripping Mark uses his already stained shirt to wipe the remaining blood from his face and arms and quickly changes.

The clothes Robin had left him were simple enough, a pair of blue jeans and a black t-shirt that was just slightly too big for the man. Mark sucks in a few unstable breaths, muttering to himself, telling himself to calm down. Finally he stands, simply leaving his old clothes in a pile and walking out into the bright sun.

He didn't know how long he'd been asleep, however it seemed to be about 11am by now. Mark let's his eyes scan the small camp, it was strangely empty, thankfully. Mark releases a small relieved sigh as his eyes land on the familiar green hair of Jack.

He stood talking to one of the others. Tyler was it? The Irish man's face lights up in a smile as he spots Mark, he excuses himself from the taller man and rushes over, wrapping Mark in a hug ignoring when he tensed up at the touch.

"Hey Markimoo!"

He greets excitedly. The red haired man forces a small smile and hesitantly hugs him back, not even trying to match his level of happiness.

"Hey..."

He responds softly, the remnants of last night's dream continuing to plague him. Jack pulls away and narrows his eyes slightly at Mark, worry lacing his tone as he spoke next.

"Everything alright?"

The red haired man nods his head, continuing to force that small smile as he thought up and excuse.