Chapter Three - The First Hunger

The boy held her hand gently, listening to every word. The demon girl lowered her eyes, her voice soft as she continued her story.

After the accident, I had nowhere to go. But my uncle, my mother’s brother took me in. He was kind. He didn’t know what had really happened, didn’t know that I wasn’t the same anymore. To him, I was just a little girl who had lost her parents.

He gave me a home. He told me I should continue my studies, live as normally as I could. I went to school, tried to smile, tried to act like everyone else. But inside… I was different. I could feel it. Something dark lived inside me, waiting."

She paused, her hands trembling in his.

"For some time, nothing happened. I studied, I played, I grew older. My uncle thought I was healing. He never guessed the truth. But then, one night, it began."

I was lying in bed, and suddenly, I felt it. A hunger so sharp, so deep, it made my whole body shake. It wasn’t hunger for food. It was hunger for blood. I tried to resist. I bit my hand, I cried into my pillow. But the craving only grew stronger.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I went to the kitchen in the dark, shaking and desperate. That’s when I saw it a small mouse, running across the floor. I don’t know how it happened. My mind went blank. I grabbed it… and then I drank.

When I came back to my senses, I was sitting on the kitchen floor, my clothes stained red, my hands covered in blood. The mouse lay lifeless beside me. I stared at myself, horrified. That wasn’t me. That wasn’t who I wanted to be. But it was too late I had tasted blood.

The boy’s eyes softened with pain, but he didn’t speak. He knew she needed to finish.

Her voice trembled as she went on.

I panicked. I washed my hands again and again, but the smell wouldn’t go away. I scrubbed at my clothes until my skin burned. Still, I felt unclean, cursed. I locked myself inside my room and refused to come out.

For days, I stayed hidden. My uncle knocked on the door, calling my name. He thought I was sick. He brought food and left it outside. But I didn’t answer. I couldn’t look him in the eyes, not after what I had done.

I hated myself. I felt guilty, ashamed, like I was turning into a monster with every breath I took. I didn’t want anyone to see me like that. I didn’t want my uncle to know the truth. So I stayed in the darkness, punishing myself.

Her shoulders trembled as she whispered, “I was only a child… and already I was drowning in guilt.

The boy squeezed her hand, his voice steady but tender. "You were not a monster. You were scared. You didn’t choose that hunger it chose you. But even then, you still felt guilty, you still cared. That means your heart was human, even if your blood was not."

For a long moment, silence wrapped around them. Then she rested her head against his shoulder, feeling his warmth chase away the chill of her memories.

For the first time in years, she was no longer telling her story to herself. She was sharing it with someone who truly saw her.

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