By Jamie Manning
I woke to the coppery smell of blood and a hunger unlike anything I had ever felt. My head burned hard and fast, sending shards of pain and heat over my entire body. I could hear and feel my own breath, short and raspy, choke its way out of my lungs and up my throat. My nose burned with the smell of dirt and sweat and I was surrounded by total darkness. A helluva way to wake up.
As the pain in my head eased, the hunger in my stomach grew stronger. It seemed to spread out over my entire body, making my skin crawl and my mind spin. All I could think about was eating and eating soon. But I wasn’t craving food.
I was craving blood.
The thought of it filled my mind like molten lava, sweeping in and burying all other thoughts and ideas and leaving me with an aching emptiness that only it could fill. I had to have it, and I had no idea why.
What’s wrong with me? Am I seriously lying here thinking about blood? Have I totally lost my mind?
All good questions that I had zero answers for. I couldn’t even stomach watching someone being killed in a horror movie. Just the idea of having my blood drawn at the doctor’s office caused me to break out in hives. So how in the world could I now be actually considering drinking blood? I tried to push the overwhelming and totally disgusting thought of blood – and what I wanted to do with it – out of my mind and focus on figuring out where the hell I was.
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