"Hello?"
A muffled voice. She heard it. Barely, but it was there. Memories. A friend. Joy. No. There was...nothing. Everything is midnight dark. Everything is blank. And everything is so...weak. Lack of strength, not even enough to open eyes. Warmth cuts deep into oddly cold skin. The feeling is almost comfortable—comfort with a hint of sad nostalgia. A nostalgia that was still fresh.
"Hello!"
The voice rings again. This time it's louder. And closer. All clear. Orla lets out a grunt, shivering slightly in strain. The body responds with a pang in turn. Finally, she squints and tries to open her tired eyes for a few seconds, letting in dim candlelight illuminating her surroundings. Yellow animalistic eyes opening to glance at an unfamiliar sight.
"Are you okay? you collapsed outside the tavern here."
"I'm- I'm fine, I just need to be on my way," she reassured the man, who though clearly inebriated had chanced upon her pathetic form crumpled over by the taverns alleyway. In another time she might've found herself in there, but things changed. She found herself avoiding the social trappings she once frequented, only going after dark or to contacts she could rely on not to turn away her freakish visage away.
I should've never broken into that stuck up bitches house.
"I can get help if you want girl, you seem not well." the man replied worryingly, gesturing towards the distant castle that whoever ruled this town resided. If he might have been sober he'd of called the town guard by now, and not even Orla's illicit back alley glamour potions would've saved her from being torched on a stake or beheaded. Without them, she was reminded of what she was, a disgusting creature and a victim of her own ill choices. She had developed a desire for them like one might want for water to quench their thirst. It was an unhealthy dependency which had developed over the past two weeks. As she desperately sort out whatever means possible to stave off her illness, but it only gave her a somewhat false hope in the fact it maintained her appearance to be a little human. She still loathed the sun but at least the potions allowed her to blend in and visit taverns at night.
But she had run out of the potions two days ago and was now suffering the dire effects of withdrawal that she became so intimately familiar with. Blackouts, vomiting, hallucinations and voices in her head all came. Yet the overwhelming burning urge to feed was king, and she could not avoid its call. First resorting to feeding on animals, she later switched to feeding on humans and elves. Anyone she could catch after dark when the sun had passed, and the domain of her kind arose. She still remembered her first feed, a young man not much older than her, and she had mauled the poor soul as he returned from guard duty. His bloodied remains found by his family face deep in the mud. Orla had fled town the next day. Like the coward she was.
"Talk to me, are you okay there?"
He spoke again.
Yellow eyes met him in turn and widened.
Kill.
Feed.
Kill.
Her once idle form sprang to life in a sudden predatory lunge as she tackled the larger man against the alley wall with force way beyond someone of her size that was once living. A soft thud could be heard as the man's head smashed against the cold brick mortar, blood oozing all over the wall as he fell down against it unconscious.
At least he won't feel it. That was at least a blessing.
Straddling the now unconscious man, she pulled her head back and sank her teeth into his neck, tearing the man's throat out with bestial savagery that a wolf possessed when taking their prey.
A muffled voice. She heard it. Barely, but it was there. Memories. A friend. Joy. No. There was...nothing. Everything is midnight dark. Everything is blank. And everything is so...weak. Lack of strength, not even enough to open eyes. Warmth cuts deep into oddly cold skin. The feeling is almost comfortable—comfort with a hint of sad nostalgia. A nostalgia that was still fresh.
"Hello!"
The voice rings again. This time it's louder. And closer. All clear. Orla lets out a grunt, shivering slightly in strain. The body responds with a pang in turn. Finally, she squints and tries to open her tired eyes for a few seconds, letting in dim candlelight illuminating her surroundings. Yellow animalistic eyes opening to glance at an unfamiliar sight.
"Are you okay? you collapsed outside the tavern here."
"I'm- I'm fine, I just need to be on my way," she reassured the man, who though clearly inebriated had chanced upon her pathetic form crumpled over by the taverns alleyway. In another time she might've found herself in there, but things changed. She found herself avoiding the social trappings she once frequented, only going after dark or to contacts she could rely on not to turn away her freakish visage away.
I should've never broken into that stuck up bitches house.
"I can get help if you want girl, you seem not well." the man replied worryingly, gesturing towards the distant castle that whoever ruled this town resided. If he might have been sober he'd of called the town guard by now, and not even Orla's illicit back alley glamour potions would've saved her from being torched on a stake or beheaded. Without them, she was reminded of what she was, a disgusting creature and a victim of her own ill choices. She had developed a desire for them like one might want for water to quench their thirst. It was an unhealthy dependency which had developed over the past two weeks. As she desperately sort out whatever means possible to stave off her illness, but it only gave her a somewhat false hope in the fact it maintained her appearance to be a little human. She still loathed the sun but at least the potions allowed her to blend in and visit taverns at night.
But she had run out of the potions two days ago and was now suffering the dire effects of withdrawal that she became so intimately familiar with. Blackouts, vomiting, hallucinations and voices in her head all came. Yet the overwhelming burning urge to feed was king, and she could not avoid its call. First resorting to feeding on animals, she later switched to feeding on humans and elves. Anyone she could catch after dark when the sun had passed, and the domain of her kind arose. She still remembered her first feed, a young man not much older than her, and she had mauled the poor soul as he returned from guard duty. His bloodied remains found by his family face deep in the mud. Orla had fled town the next day. Like the coward she was.
"Talk to me, are you okay there?"
He spoke again.
Yellow eyes met him in turn and widened.
Kill.
Feed.
Kill.
Her once idle form sprang to life in a sudden predatory lunge as she tackled the larger man against the alley wall with force way beyond someone of her size that was once living. A soft thud could be heard as the man's head smashed against the cold brick mortar, blood oozing all over the wall as he fell down against it unconscious.
At least he won't feel it. That was at least a blessing.
Straddling the now unconscious man, she pulled her head back and sank her teeth into his neck, tearing the man's throat out with bestial savagery that a wolf possessed when taking their prey.
