Desire

Waking, in this dim structure. I hear nothing. No animals. No water. No wind. Not even my own... heart beat. Looking around, I could tell I was left here. By whom? I have no idea. I shake the dust off of my leather coat and pat down the rest of my clothes. This will clean me up some and I can check for injuries. The ache in my head is wild and unknown to me. I begin walking towards the decrepit doors, only visible to me by the rays of sun glittering between the cracks. As I approach, the sensation of escape or even help overwhelms me. The burning from my neck halts all that is my surroundings. Lifting my hand to my neck, I feel faint. Drawing my hand to my sight I see thick and clean blood. Instead of fainting, yelling or feeling sorrow, I, I, I become hungry.

I had always desired to see the end of time. Even as a boy milling the fields during the day, I would watch the night. The was a different world around us when Ma blew out the oil lamps. The sky was lit like a firebug swarm. Leave be the predators, and everything was beautiful. I would sneak off to go and find what wanders while we slept. Pa said all my thoughts were for the galoot. Those men who had no idea how to ride or work. I figured I'd show him. Growing up I would find curious bugs and easily spooked rodents. When the telegraph was announced to us in our little town, someways off the farm. I knew I wanted to see everything this world had to offer. The man used words like "Technology" and "Innovation". I couldn't believe my ears. I told my father I wanted to see it. He said there was no way for us to, too much work to be done. I could not reconcile with this. Almost a man myself at the time. I would go out and see what was waiting for me.

I came across a curious man in a bar. He was paler than most, and the only other difference was him being alone. Every saloon I traveled was men traveling with company, paid or otherwise. I tried to buy him a drink, but he refused. Instead paying for mine in exchange for my story. For I was also a lone traveler and was a marvel to himself. I told him of my upbringing and my curiosity of the world. Every now and again he would flash a smile that startled me, but I was not one to say no to free whisky. After a lengthy explanation of myself, he offered me the chance to see the world, and all things throughout time. I know I was drunk and could have heard him right. He said the price was a sacrifice, and that is all I remember of the terms of the agreement. Aside from following him out if the saloon and towards the edge of the city.

I've now seen so many things, that everyday I couldn't imagine we'd come up with more. All the love I've lost for the individual through the centuries is shortly rectified with what the race accomplishes daily. The era I grew up in is now celebrated and glorified. As if we did anything special.

I recall my past with disgust mixed with nostalgia. As I would hunt for critters for curiosity sake, I now hunt. This world has made it so easy. Tracking has changed, but for the better. This young man has no idea that I've been on him for six whole days. These "office bros" can be so complacent in life. "If I follow the schedule, I will succeed." No, not tonight you won't. Bryson here, will leave the gym in four minutes. Then I follow him eight paces behind as he makes his way towards his apartment. On the trek there, we will go underground and ride the subway for thirty two minutes, if there are no delays. He likes to take a short cut home. Rather than the streets of the 'City that never sleeps', he will choose to dart down an alley way. I know this man is perfect for me as my next meal. His eyes are glued to his handheld screen at all times. His rate flutters with what's happening on there. His excitement and stress make my stomach growl something fierce. This insatiable hunger for knowledge has been the only thing that helps me make peace with myself. I hate how I have to survive, but I hate the idea of not being around to watch and learn so, so much more. The subway finally rattles, shrieks, and grinds to Bryson's stop. As usual, I pretend to be asleep until I can feel his pulse to have moved fifteen feet from the cart. I will slowly get up, and follow him through the waiting crowd. We leave the well lit tunnels and stretch our legs in the flashing, stagnant, and over brightened street signs. Three blocks due North, two blocks East, and then the alley will be a curt turn North again. His screen is the only thing of light in this narrow passage after only ten feet in. His sweat is sweet, a good combination of healthy diet and joy in his life. The walking he is doing is measured but quickened. His phone has alerted bad news! He will escape me if I don't go now! I quicken pace only by 1.5 normal stalking speed. My right arm reaches out and up, while my left comes out and down. This will be quick, as I am beyond practiced. My lips separate, then my canines grow 200%. My tongue tastes his stress in the air. I need to hurry before my meal is spoiled. My right hand grabs his mouth, to cover any noise he will make. My left hand reaches around his torso, to grab both wrists. His surprise is nothing new to me. His reaction time is not bad, he's been mugged before, but I'm no mugger. As his hands struggle in mine, his eyes widen to their limit. A muffled scream is barely audible through my right hand. My fangs puncture his tender flesh as fear becomes my meals scent. The sweet red liquid gushes into my mouth as he becomes limps. All noise around me dims, except for the glorious and slowing *Thump Thump*.