Hunger, part the eighth?

CHAPTER 10
It was the day of his feeding. I didn’t know about the others. I assumed that they would also join in on the “fun.” I would definitely not.
I smelled something. It was blood. It was not how I would expect it to smell. I imagined something disgusting that was weirdly attractive, but it felt amazing. There was a strange high created by the scent. Tempting, and lulling… and most certainly not disgusting. I was formidably hungry that day. It was certainly an option to follow Augustus, bit I still had will power. Enough will power to resist killing.
Augustus
“I thought you said-“
“Instinct finds energy form the strangest of places.” Maybe there was an equivalent to adrenaline for them.
“The venom is extremely energetic. One drop could easily power an elephant for a year. We produce very little each year. You will start to feel the gland growing above your mouth.”
I didn’t know how much more of this I could take. Well, I guessed that I would have to take all of the problems that come with being what I was, but would it drive me mad? Apparently being this way could do that to you. There was so much change happening to me. I’d no snippet of memory suggesting that change was ever good.
He was moving quite quickly, and I had to pay attention to keep up. Not effort, just attention, which to me was harder than it was with the simple application of energy. Anyway, we ran for a very long time. How far away was this smell? It baffled me that it didn’t seem like we were any closer after at least 10 minutes of a brisk run, which was pretty damn fast for them and me. I made a mental wager that we would reach the person in another 5 minutes.
Quickly after I made the bet, I disregarded the thought. Since when did I take a person’s life so lightly? I always have, I told myself. If it is inevitable, then I did not stress over it. That was my compromise. It didn’t mean that I could make bets that relied on how much time a person had left on this world.
“We’re close now.” I could tell. The smell was extremely strong and appealing now. I had a hard time not speeding up and taking it for myself.
It was an adult, thank god. It was convenient how normal he was. A simple, white man, with normal clothing. He didn’t scream; he didn’t protest. He stood there and waited for his death. It was pathetic, if you ask me. He didn’t try and hide or run, or anything! Maybe he just knew that nothing could help him once they were on pursuit.
Once we were on pursuit.
He wiped his mouth.
“He’s already dead, why don’t you have some, I left a pint or two.” I had no idea what a “pint” was, but I didn’t see what was wrong with warding off my killing another person. I bent down, and the smell drew me to his neck. It was beautiful, so perfectly sensational. When I began to watch myself drinking the blood, and the others watching blankly, I stopped. It was the most difficult things that I have ever done, but I stood up, only drinking for a couple of seconds, and I said, “I refuse to be one of you.”
I wondered how long the other two could survive on the amount of blood that they had drunk from the corpse. It couldn’t be too long, but they didn’t seem to be that hungry before the feeding, so I supposed that they could last for as long as I could. Unless I dug out some inner will power to resist for longer. It was four days since my turning.
“How long did it take you to feed after your initiation?”
“I fed that very day. I am surprised that you haven’t been tempted already.”
“I have,” I mumbled, “But I refuse to go through with it.”
He smiled, and we continued to walk aimlessly.
It was the seventh day, and I was starving. It was trying to take control, but I resisted, refused. I couldn’t and I wouldn’t let it win. The whole experience was repulsive.
One night we were walking (I didn’t know why we continued to do that), and my hunger was aiming for my legs. That was all it wanted for some reason. I started speeding up, and I couldn’t even feel my feet hitting the ground. The others followed at the same pace without saying anything. They knew what was going on.
My feeling seemed to let off right at my waist. It was awfully uncomfortable and strange. I had a plan.
I limped the entire top of my body. This immediately caused my legs to fumble and lose balance. It was too strong. The Hunger carefully navigated each step to account for my swaying upper body. I was pissed.
Well, if that didn’t work, then what could? They were running faster than ever, and it may have just been the Hunger trying to trick me, but I smelled something. That wasn’t what I needed right then, so I tried to focus on other things. Because of the fact that I didn’t have to control my legs, I could relax and mediate. It was the first time since that day. I concentrated on finding my purpose, and honestly, it felt great. It was still there, right next to me, waiting to be found. But this wasn’t the time. I concentrated on taking control of my legs. Slowly, I felt the nerves reawakening downward, further and further, one by one.
My feet still belonged to the Hunger, but it couldn’t run without obedience of legs. I tripped, and when I stood up, it was just me. I was the only one there. The Hunger had retreated to get reinforcements.