Life [Part 1]

He is starving.

And bored.

His stomach never growls, but there is always this tormenting wave of hunger so immense that he wants to clench and rip anything with his nails, latch his canines onto any piece of skin and wrench out the veins, or pins a creature down before smashing him into a mash and shower in his blood.

That escalating craving. That insatiable need. That exasperating thirst.

He needs flesh. Or blood. Or both.

Or just a touch is fine.