Chapter 29 The Monster in the Shadows (1/2)

Rassa was hungry. So hungry that he couldn't remember what it was like to not be hungry. Physically, he was exhausted, stiff and sore. His body had been getting progressively worse, and had not, after twelve days without feeding, had gotten to the point where he couldn't move without making a sound of protest. He vaguely knew his parents were there at different times. Watching over and supporting him. Both of them read to him, and if Rassa was any less hungry, it probably would have given him some form of comfort. But all he could think about was eating.

All he could think about was the feeling of his fangs sinking deep into the veins of something living, and the rush as blood filled his mouth and soothed his burning throat. And yet, at the same time, a nagging voice that he was beginning to want to ignore told him NOT HERE, NOT NOW.

Rassa knew better. He was hungry, why should he deny himself? Yet he listened to the voice all the same.

Rassa was vaguely aware of time passing around him, yet nothing really changed. He could blink and nothing would be different. He was still hungry, and that was all that mattered. The smaller part of his brain, the one that was telling him that constant NOT HERE, NOT NOW, was terrified. Terrified of the thought that someone he cared about could die, and Rassa would only think about the Hunger. The ever insistent and worsening Hunger that contained nothing but pain and emptiness. Such was his plight, one that nobody could ever understand because he was alone. There was nobody like him.

He remembered saying the words what if. What if there were others like him in the shadows. There weren't, Rassa was positive. The dark shadow that had creeped its way further and further into Rassa's empty hollow had confirmed it. There was nobody like him, and he alone wielded all the power of his race. Power he could only sustain through blood. Hence the hunger.

Hungry. He was so Hungry!

Distracting thoughts. Rassa needed distracting thoughts. Had his father gotten the Anthrite? The shadows hissed at that. The shadows called it the Draining Metal. The weapon of cowards and day walkers. The one thing that made their kind weak. Killable. That made them hunger even if they had just eaten their fill.

Hungry, Hungry, Hungry.

NOT HERE, NOT NOW.

With his eyes closed shut, Rassa's other senses alerted him to another presence in the room. A heartbeat, human, faster than normal. From the smell, it was the Doctor. Had something happened? Was someone hurt? Had someone died?

The shadows took over. Hungry, Blood, Hungry.

Rassa clenched his muscles, holding himself tightly. NOT HERE, NOT NOW.

The Doctor leaned closer, the heartbeat increasing. Rassa felt the Shadow rear up, and the itching pain of his fangs on the verge of poking through his gums. He clenched his teeth.

NO. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no-HUNGRY

NOT HERE NOT NOW.

As the shadow pushed for control, Rassa pushed back, pulling all the mental strength he had into this one command.

The Doctor paused for a moment, then gently touched his hands to Rassa's wrist. Rassa had no doubt he could feel the tension in his clenched muscles. No doubt it made it hard for the Doctor to feel his pulse. There was another pause, then the Doctor breathed out a short sigh before standing and moving away.

The footsteps receded, and the door closed behind him. Rassa released the tension in his muscles. The shadow hissed in discontent.

'Why do you not feed when the food is presented to you on a platter?'

The voice surprised Rassa. The shadow had yet to speak anything but the words 'hungry' or 'hunger'. As Rassa weighed his reply, he realised how remarkably similar the voice sounded to Red Eyes, the being who had made him commit to the seal.