Chapter 24: This is a Claiming

MILO’S POV

I’m numb except for this hunger. It’s rage and need and violence all rolled into one. There’s a red haze over everything, and I can see details that’re wildly distracting. Each fissure and crack in the bricks that make up the floor. I could count the individual sand grains in the grout. All the individual follicles of hair on the woman in front of me stand out in sharp relief.

The woman. She smells delicious. I am hungry.

I’m ravenous. I need to eat. She sounds good.

Who am I? I am hunger, its avatar. I need to paint this room in red. I want to bathe in her blood.

Blood. I listen for her heartbeat. It’s not there. Why doesn’t she have a heartbeat?

I’ll have to tear her open to see why it doesn’t beat.

Who am I? The question keeps nagging, breaking through the red fog of fury. I am someone. I must be someone.

Hungry. Too hungry to care.

Her. She’s still talking. I don’t understand. She should be afraid, not speaking in that calm, unfazed voice.