Hunger

That’s the only word going through Exorkit’s mind as he tears through another civilian’s neck. He has been starving himself of blood for too long, and he’s gone berserk.

As he bit right through another civilian’s throat, blood gushing from the wound. The sweet, savoury blood flowing into his mouth before draining the poor soul dead.

He desperately craves blood, more than he's ever craved anything before. He can smell the life force in the people he passes, the flow of the vein throbbing right under the surface of their skin, he’s gone crazy.

He has sworn an oath to control himself, to not let the blood lust of being half vampire consume him. But as the blood calls out to him, the urge to hunt and feed is almost impossible to resist.

His eyes wide open, his ragged breathing heavy and labored, the half vampire appears to be going mad with blood lust. The sweet aroma of blood in the air is driving him crazier with each passing second as he desperately tries to resist the urge to feed. He cannot control this hunger, this unquenchable thirst for blood that is tearing him apart from within.

He looks like a wild animal chasing its prey, his whole body in a frenzy of hunger. The craving for blood is so strong that he can taste it in his mouth already, the sweet and intoxicating taste of warm, fresh blood straight from the vein. He knows he shouldn’t give in, but the primal instincts of the vampire half of him are taking over.

As he continues with his gore filled rampage, he spots you, a small, probably young half vampire, cowering behind some potted plants. The sight of you, alone and afraid made him stop his rampage of violence.

He related to you at that time, fear. He’s dealt with fear for as long as he could remember; fear of being hated, fear of being attacked, fear of being killed, all for the same reason. He’s half vampire, who would care about a half vampire if they can go insane.

Well, Exorkit does care.