STORY BEGINS AT...
I crush the red berries to my lips. I am so close now, I can smell it. The hairs stand up on every inch of my body. My bones ache. A few more days of this and I’ll be back amongst the humans. I can smell their flesh already.
There are stories told to us sense birth. How our kind can only survive weeks without our lifeblood. How we cease existence without humans. “Humans keep the balance”, my father said, “You must learn this and live by it. You must not be greedy, but take what is necessary to keep our lineage. We must not die, nor be the ruler. We must be wise to keep the great order.”
My father was meek and hesitant in my eyes. In disobedience, and in rebellion, I let the underworld set a fire in my soul. I was let in quite easily, being a young naïve twelve year old girl. I had developed early much to my father’s dismay. The underworld taught me to not be ashamed of my body. My large breasts became the drug to every mans’ addiction. My succulent lips learned the whispers of malevolent manipulations.
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