The Hound's Prey (Revolution's Blade Book 1)

Chapter 10 - Name?

Hours pass, painstakingly slow. My body and mind are racked with desire, they feel the passing of each minute like it is an hour. Sitting there in the dark, my eyes gaze at the shadows that share my cage. The fire the guards lit nearby, to give me and my fellow prisoner some heat during the night, has burned down. Only embers remain and they throw little light into the cage. I suspect a soldier will come by to add more wood to it at some point; it would be best to do what is needed before the fire is re-stocked, before more light illuminates us.

Everyone is asleep; it has been torture to wait for that to happen. My ears listen to the soft breathing of my two healthy cellmates and the rasping snores of my injured prey; all have sunk into a regular pattern. The longer I can endure the wait the better the chance of success, but when it becomes unbearable, my body begins to move.

Crawling carefully across the floor of our cage, moving slowly to be certain no part of me touches the outstretched limbs of my cellmates, my murderous intent closes in on the bloodied man. With some difficulty, my crawl passes over the uninjured prisoners, but they are not disturbed.

I draw close to my target, the smell of his wound, it is intoxicating! My face comes down close to his, and it is hard not to just bite into him and suck the red from his arteries, but this man is strong, care must be taken.

He is fast asleep; that will be his doom. It is still instinct that drives me. I have no consideration about consequences or morality, about the meaning or the wisdom of my actions, all my thought is about consuming him, and my mind knows it will empower me.

He lies on his side, facing out of the cage. I move in behind him, sliding one arm underneath his neck. The beating pulse in his jugular, it is only inches from my open mouth. My arm bends around his throat, tightens; my other hand grasps it and squeezes, with all the strength I have. My teeth bite down through his flesh.

My tongue feels the pumping blood, tastes it. My mouth fills with the warmth and then it is forcing its way down my throat, a thick metallic pulsing torrent that is horrible but unstoppable. Nothing can pull me back now. My first reaction is to gag and let go, but a much stronger impulse flares inside my body, from deep down in my soul! Hating the sensation but dominated by instinct, I keep drinking, like someone dying of thirst who has found dirty disease ridden water.

Pushing aside the horror of the taste another feeling invades me and grows - power! It floods through my body, filling the emptiness inside that has plagued me for days. My mind is suddenly sharp, focused, and strength rushes through every part of my body. My victim gurgles and tries to cry out, his body jumps and limbs shake violently, but my sudden newfound strength is directed into my arms and jaw.

The very life is squeezed from him, my arms tightening so hard that his cry is cut off and the control he has on his body fails. All he can manage is a weak choked off gurgle that wouldn't wake a mouse. His limbs go still as his neck is crushed, his spine snapping under the pressure of my arms, and all the time my teeth gnaw and tear into his flesh. Hot sweet blood continues to flow, and with a feeling of joy, my efforts reach the jugular.

So much relief and power flows from the man into me.

He is already dead, but as quiet as my actions have tried to be, there is no hiding all the noises, not from the other prisoner sleeping only a few feet away.

"What the hell? What the fuck!"

In the near pitch darkness of the cage, the suddenly awake male prisoner cannot have been able to see the details of what is happening, but the sounds and smell of my feeding may well have been terrifying. He calls out again, louder, and the woman prisoner soon wakes and joins in. They scream for the guards which grabs my attention. My hunger consumed mind focuses on the impact the incoming guards will have on my ability to keep feeding.