Christopher desperately tried to suppress the urge to kill. He
almost couldn't bear it, especially since he was in a weakened state
from starving the wolf spirit again for so long. After two and a half
years since he accepted being a killer as a Hidden Wolf, he began to
have second thoughts again about his morals or the lack of morals and
his humanity.
One afternoon, he was in a park, mulling over his dilemma. It was a beautiful day, sunny and breezy. Christopher stood on the edge of an open area in the middle of the park among the onlookers, watching the colorful kites the kids were flying. A thin, petite woman stood next to him as she watched the soaring kites. One flew from out of nowhere and struck the petite woman on the side of her head, near the temple. The child that flew that kite ran over, retrieved it and apologized to the woman. The woman had her hair up in a high pony tail to lift it off her neck. She was frail with almost transparent skin. The veins in her forearms and hands bulged because she was overheated. Since it was hot outside and she began to perspire, the woman never felt her warm blood trickle down the side of her face from where the kite struck her. Christopher watched the trail of blood trickle in front of her ear, across her jaw line to the side of her neck, and stop next to her jugular vein. He focused on the blood on her pale skin and watched her jugular vein pulsate as she had her head tilted up to look at the kites. This left her neck exposed and vulnerable. The combination of the blood on her warm skin, the pulsating jugular, and the open exposure of her neck nearly drove him to the edge of biting her neck open. He felt ready to dig his teeth into her soft frail flesh and would have enjoyed the feast. Christopher almost forgot about the crowd around him and licked his lips in anticipation. He felt the heat rise behind his eyes and his heart began to pound. He felt a deep groan of hunger well up from deep inside his stomach and he made a low inaudible growl in his throat. He inched closer to the frail woman who continued to watch the beautiful kites float carelessly in the sky. She was oblivious to the impending danger. The crowd applauded at the swooping kites, which snapped Christopher into reality. To fight against the urge to bite open the woman's neck and feast, Christopher clenched his fists so hard that he dug his nails into his palms, making them bleed. The pain snapped him out of his momentary trance. He reached into his pocket to pull out a handkerchief and said to the woman, "Excuse me. You're bleeding from that kite that hit you. You should have a doctor look at it." The woman was unaware that the kite hit her hard enough to break the skin. She touched his arm in a flirtatious way to emphasize her thanks. "Thank you so much for telling me. You’re such a gentleman, not like those other men that act like vicious animals." He chuckled to himself at the irony of what she said to him. Christopher felt the warmth of her hand on his muscular arm and nearly melted from the strong urge to dig his teeth into her neck. It was all he could do to keep from harming the innocent woman. He shook off the temptation and gave her his handkerchief to put on the small gash by her temple. Christopher went home and licked the blood off his palms, which provided a guilty, shameful, temporary satisfaction. He felt an uneasy euphoric pleasure when he tasted the familiar salty taste of blood. He washed off his hands and wrapped them with bandages. He would lie to Tasha and explain that he cut his hands while washing the dishes and that he had grabbed a knife he hadn’t seen under the soapy water.
almost couldn't bear it, especially since he was in a weakened state
from starving the wolf spirit again for so long. After two and a half
years since he accepted being a killer as a Hidden Wolf, he began to
have second thoughts again about his morals or the lack of morals and
his humanity.
One afternoon, he was in a park, mulling over his dilemma. It was a beautiful day, sunny and breezy. Christopher stood on the edge of an open area in the middle of the park among the onlookers, watching the colorful kites the kids were flying. A thin, petite woman stood next to him as she watched the soaring kites. One flew from out of nowhere and struck the petite woman on the side of her head, near the temple. The child that flew that kite ran over, retrieved it and apologized to the woman. The woman had her hair up in a high pony tail to lift it off her neck. She was frail with almost transparent skin. The veins in her forearms and hands bulged because she was overheated. Since it was hot outside and she began to perspire, the woman never felt her warm blood trickle down the side of her face from where the kite struck her. Christopher watched the trail of blood trickle in front of her ear, across her jaw line to the side of her neck, and stop next to her jugular vein. He focused on the blood on her pale skin and watched her jugular vein pulsate as she had her head tilted up to look at the kites. This left her neck exposed and vulnerable. The combination of the blood on her warm skin, the pulsating jugular, and the open exposure of her neck nearly drove him to the edge of biting her neck open. He felt ready to dig his teeth into her soft frail flesh and would have enjoyed the feast. Christopher almost forgot about the crowd around him and licked his lips in anticipation. He felt the heat rise behind his eyes and his heart began to pound. He felt a deep groan of hunger well up from deep inside his stomach and he made a low inaudible growl in his throat. He inched closer to the frail woman who continued to watch the beautiful kites float carelessly in the sky. She was oblivious to the impending danger. The crowd applauded at the swooping kites, which snapped Christopher into reality. To fight against the urge to bite open the woman's neck and feast, Christopher clenched his fists so hard that he dug his nails into his palms, making them bleed. The pain snapped him out of his momentary trance. He reached into his pocket to pull out a handkerchief and said to the woman, "Excuse me. You're bleeding from that kite that hit you. You should have a doctor look at it." The woman was unaware that the kite hit her hard enough to break the skin. She touched his arm in a flirtatious way to emphasize her thanks. "Thank you so much for telling me. You’re such a gentleman, not like those other men that act like vicious animals." He chuckled to himself at the irony of what she said to him. Christopher felt the warmth of her hand on his muscular arm and nearly melted from the strong urge to dig his teeth into her neck. It was all he could do to keep from harming the innocent woman. He shook off the temptation and gave her his handkerchief to put on the small gash by her temple. Christopher went home and licked the blood off his palms, which provided a guilty, shameful, temporary satisfaction. He felt an uneasy euphoric pleasure when he tasted the familiar salty taste of blood. He washed off his hands and wrapped them with bandages. He would lie to Tasha and explain that he cut his hands while washing the dishes and that he had grabbed a knife he hadn’t seen under the soapy water.
