Thirst For Blood

As my eyes fluttered open, I was consumed by an oppressive darkness. It wasn’t the kind of darkness that came with the quiet comfort of the night; this was suffocating, heavy, hot and alive as if it wanted to swallow me whole.

Panic clawed at the edges of my mind. My breaths came shallow and fast, each one a struggle against the unseen weight pressing down on me.

"Where am I? What happened?"

My body felt impossibly heavy, as though buried beneath layers of earth and stone. I tried to move, but every muscle burned in defiance, leaving me trapped. The space around me was too tight, too confining—a tomb meant for the dead.

A cold fear coursed through me, but it was nothing compared to the hunger. A gnawing, ravenous ache churned in my gut, twisting and tearing until it became all I could focus on. It wasn’t a hunger for food but a deep and terrifying hunger.

“Someone! Help me!” My voice cracked, the sound swallowed by the oppressive void.