Page 9

NINE

CIPHER

I awoke disoriented with an insatiable something gnawing at my insides, an ache that started in my stomach and went straight through to my bones. Something I craved– needed –but what was it?

A thrumming noise filled my ears, the steady beating of a heart. My own? No, it belonged to the boy in the chair. I knew him. His name was… It was…

I couldn’t remember his name.

The boy was asleep, the curls on his head a chaotic mess, the features of his face blurred like looking through a wet pane of glass, but my other senses were sharper than ever before. The noise was the sound of blood pumping through his veins. Mouth watering, I sniffed the air, tasting his exhales, smelling the sweat on his skin, imagining the tang of his blood. So warm and inviting, he smelled like…

Meat.

Human meat.

No, that couldn’t be right. I couldn’t eat him. I didn’t eat people.

But the need grew stronger, a craving like no other. Thirst mixed with hunger mixed with… want. I tried to claw at my burning throat, but I couldn’t. My wrists were strapped down.

Why?

My throat felt blistered and raw, and no matter how much I swallowed, the dryness remained. I yanked on my binds again, but they wouldn’t budge. Trapped. I panted like a dog and searched the room for an escape.

The boy noticed my movement and said something, but I couldn’t understand him. The smell of him grew stronger as he stood and approached me with a glass of water. I opened my mouth to welcome the sweet relief, but the water did nothing to soothe my scorched throat or satisfy my craving. It was like sand to an already dry mouth, and after a few unsatisfying gulps, I spat it out.

“No more,” I managed to say, my voice deep and guttural like the growl of a beast.

“You’re burning up,” he said and placed a wet cloth against my forehead. He reached for a bottle on the bedside table and tapped some pills into his hand. He smelled good, salty and rich. So much muscle covered by a smooth elastic skin that I longed to tear into. Gnaw on his flesh straight to the bone. Eat him.

No.

“We have to bring down the fever,” he said.

A fever, yes. That’s what was wrong. I was sick. Sick with a virus, but no illness had ever made me feel this way before. I shouldn’t want to eat him. That was wrong. I knew him. I didn’t eat people. Did I?

He tried to shove the pills into my mouth, and I snapped at him with my teeth. The edges of my canines grazed his fingers, but he was wearing latex gloves. Gross. I gagged and spat out the pills, frustrated that I could smell his earthy sweetness but couldn’t taste his skin. Grinding my teeth together, I ran my tongue along my gums, a poor substitute for flesh.

“Hungry,” I muttered, the word garbled and hoarse.

The boy froze, staring back at me with wide eyes like prey. A new scent filled the air. Fear. It excited me even more.

“Cipher, you’re not yourself,” he said in a breathless, shaky voice.

“Cipher.” I murmured. “Ciiipheeerr?”

The boy began to cry, big fat tears rolling down his round cheeks. Helpless and lost, a poor little lamb separated from his flock. I didn’t like his crying. I wanted him to stop. If only I could hold him and stroke his soft curls, and…

Eat him.

“Come here, little lamb.” I reached for him with my bound hands and clucked my tongue to draw him in closer.

The boy swallowed and I tracked the movement of his throat, the little bob it made. Tender. His delicate skin would tear so easily. I lurched toward him, snapping my teeth again, but the restraints stopped me from reaching him. The boy fell backward, seeming to recognize me for what I was.

A predator. A monster.

Sitting back against the bed, I watched as he scrambled around the room, frantic and scared. Others came in and stared at me with the same wide-eyed terror. Prey. It was only a matter of time before my hunger grew too strong for these restraints to hold me. I would have my little lamb and feast like a lion on his sweet flesh.

Anything to make this hunger go away.