I had grown, my skin had stretched and molded, muscle filling out some of the lankiness of my young body. My hair, already taking after my wretched mother, had begun to fall on my neck, my tail reaching my hawks. I could feel it grow too, the hunger, it was unending forever, always. My stomach would fill, but the taste, oh the sweet, succulent linger that the blood of the innocent left on my tongue--well it was enough to drive anyone crazy. 

And me? Well I am crazy, I am the epitome of the darkness, I am a monster, and I am proud. I do not care for the world's mechanics like so many others, I have no strings that tie me down to the pathetic soils of this world. I live through the metallic blood of the deserving and the un, and quite frankly, not even God could save my from the devil's clutches.  

I had left the side of the broken piece that my mother was, she only kept me from embracing who I am, who I was born to be. I hated her for that, I always will. She was a waste of a mother. 

My stomach's complaints reminded me that it had been awhile since I had last eaten, my mouth prepared for the rich flavor of the thick liquid. I was ready for my body to reach maturity, hating the sluggish and lack of coordination that it gave me. No one could take over the world with a weak body, yes the mind could take me places, but physical power was always necessary. 

I let my body blend into the dark woods as best as possible. I had taken a great liking to this place-- along with the creatures that lurked in the night. Luckily for me, my small nostrils had gathered the scent of fresh blood, fresh and alluring death. Quickly, I let the grace of my entrancing, young, uneven steps, take me to the scene. I did not wait, did not care to see if another was watching. Fear me they could, fear me they would, and I will bask in the fountain of their terrors. 

My teeth sunk into the young doe, her eyes still barely lit with life, filled with alarm as I watched with great pleasure as her blood filled my mouth and her soul leaked from her windows. It was always my favorite part, when I caught them just before the reaper had stolen their last breath. The reaper and I worked hand and hand, I finished them off and he collected his treasure. It was a twisted, beautiful work I had created.


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OCC: first olderish Cor post. I'm so bad at playing young horses, so um sorry? but yay!