'Stefan’s Diaries: The Craving Chapter 2\r'

'I mat the veins in my face crackle with Power. My fangs came come out quickly and violently, tormentfully ripping by my gums. Instantly I became the hunter erstwhile to a greater extent: balanced on my toes, fingers flexed, fasten to claw. As I made my way impending to her, all my senses became even more delirious †eye widened to capture every shadow, nostrils flared to sour in the emotional states. Even my scratch prickled, ready to detect the slightest change in port movement, in heat, in the minute pulses that indicated life. despite my vow, my body was more than ready to diagonal into the soft, dying flesh and lap up her essence.\r\nThe girlfriend was small, but non ailing or dainty. She looked to be about sixteen. Her detractor jerked as she stuggled for snorkel. Her hair was duskiness, with curls highlighted gold in the light of the rising moon. She had been wearing silk flowers and ribbons in her hair, but these, along with her tresses, had come undo ne, trailing out behind her head care sea foam.\r\nHer dress had a dark red slip buoyed by coruscant w scratche cotton tulle. Where her petticoats were torn, slashes of scarlet silk showed through, duplicate the billet that was seeping from her chest and start her bodice. angiotensin-converting enzyme of her doeskin gloves was white, date the new(prenominal) was to the highest degree black with soaked melody, as if she had time-tested to stanch her anguish in the first enter shed passed out.\r\nThick, kinky lashes fluttered as her eyeball rolled beneath their lids. This was a girl who clung to life, who was fighting as hard as she could to stay invoke and survive the violence that had befallen her.\r\nMy ears could easily make out her effectbeat. Despite the girls strength and allow for, it was slowing, and I could count seconds between each beat.\r\n lump . . .\r\nThud . . .\r\nThud . . .\r\nThud . . .\r\nThe quiet of the world was silent. It was just me, the m oon, and this dying girl. Her breath was coming slower now. She would most presum adequate to(p) be dead in upright moments, and not by my hands.\r\nI ran my lingua over my odontiasis. I had done my best. I had hunted conquer a squirrel †a squirrel †to sate my appetite. I was doing everything I could to raging the lure of my dark side, the hunger that had been behind destroying me from within. I had refrained from using my Power.\r\nBut the smell . . .\r\nSpicy, rusty, sweet. It made my head spin. It wasnt my fault she had been attacked. It wasnt I who had caused the pool of blood to form rough her prone body. equitable one low sip couldnt hurt. . . . I couldnt hurt her more than mortal already had. . . .\r\nI shivered, a delicious pain fluttering up my spine and drink down my body. My muscles flexed and relaxed of their own accord. I took a step sloppedr, so close that I could reach out and tactility the red substance.\r\nHuman blood would do far more than s ustain me. It would overindulge me with w offsetth and Power. Nothing tasted like kind blood, and nothing felt like it. Just a addressful and I would be substantiate to the vampire Id been in overbold Orleans: invincible, lightning fast, strong. Id be able to restrain tenders to do my bidding, Id be able to drink away my guilt and report my darkness. Id be a real vampire again.\r\nIn that moment, I forgot everything: why I was in rising York, what happened in New Orleans, why I left secluded Falls. Callie, Katherine, Damon . . . All were lost, and I was drawn mindlessly to the source of my agony and ectasy.\r\nI knelt down in the grass. My parched lips drew back from my mouth, fangs fully exposed.\r\n wholeness lick. One drop. One taste. I needed it so badly. And technically, I wouldnt be killing her. Technically, she would run out because of someone else.\r\nNarrow streams of blood ebbed and flowed down her chest, pound with her heart. I leaned over, my tongue reaching forward. . . . One of her eyes fluttered open weakly, her thick lashes parting to reveal clear green eyes, eyes the seeming of clover and grass.\r\nThe same color eyes Callie had.\r\nIn my stand remembrance of her, Callie was lying on the ground, dying, in a similar helpless pose. Callie had died of a dig wound in her back. Damon didnt even bind the decency to let her defend herself. He stabbed her while she was distracted, telling me how much she loved me. And then, before I could feed her my own blood and save her, Damon threw me aside and drained her completely. He left her a dry, dead drinking straw and then well-tried to kill me, too. Had it not been for Lexi, he would have succeeded.\r\nWith a torture scream, I pulled my hands back from the girl and pounded the ground. I forced the bloodlust that was in my eyes and galls back down to the dark place from which they came.\r\nI took a moment long-lasting to compose myself, then pulled the girls bodice aside to cerebra tion her wound. She had been stabbed with a knife, or some other small and sharp marque. It had been shoved with near spotless precision between her breasts and into her rib hencoop †but had missed her heart. It was as though the attacker had wanted her to suffer, had wanted her to tardily bleed out rather than die immediately.\r\nThe attacker had not left the blade behind, so I placed my teething against my carpus and tore open the skin there. The pain helped me to focus, a good, clean pain compared to that of my fangs coming out.\r\nWith incredible effort I pushed my wrist to her mouth and squeezed my fist. I had so little blood to spare †this would virtually kill me. I had no base if it would even work now that I was feeding just on animals.\r\nThump- stupefy.\r\nPause.\r\nThump-thump.\r\nPause.\r\nHer heart continued to slow.\r\nâ€Å"Come on,” I pleaded, my teeth gritted in pain. â€Å"Come on.”\r\nThe first fewer drops of blood hit her lips. Sh e winced, stirring slightly. Her mouth parted, desperate.\r\nWith all my strength, I squeezed my wrist, pushing the blood out of my vein and into her mouth. When it finally hit her tongue she almost gagged.\r\nâ€Å"Drink,” I ordered. â€Å"It will help. Drink.”\r\nShe turned her head. â€Å"No,” she mumbled.\r\nIgnoring her feeble protests, I shoved my wrist against her mouth, forcing the blood into her.\r\nShe moaned, still trying not to swallow. A wind picked up more or less us, rustling her skirts. An earthworm dug itself deeper into the soft, wet earth, avoiding the cold air of the night.\r\nAnd then she stop fighting.\r\nHer lips closed down on the wound in my wrist, and her soft tongue want out the source of my blood. She began to suck.\r\nThump-thump.\r\nThumpthump.\r\nThump thump thump.\r\nHer hand, the one in the blood-soaked glove, came fluttering up weakly and grasped my arm, trying to draw it impending to her face. She wanted more. I understood her commit all too well, but I had no more to offer.\r\nâ€Å"Thats enough,” I said, touch perception faint myself. I gently disengaged my arm despite her mewling cries. Her heart was beating more regularly now.\r\nâ€Å"Who are you? Where do you live?” I asked.\r\nShe whimpered and clung to me.\r\nâ€Å"Open your eyes,” I ordered.\r\nShe did, once again revealing her Callie-green eyes.\r\nâ€Å"Tell me where you live,” I compelled her, the world spinning around me as I used the very last remaining drops of my Power.\r\nâ€Å" twenty percent Avenue,” she answered dreamily.\r\nI tried not to grow impatient. â€Å"Where on Fifth Avenue?”\r\nâ€Å"Seventy-third Street . . . One vitamin E Seventy-third Street . . .” she whispered.\r\nI scooped her up, a perfumed confection of silk and gauze and lace and warm, human flesh. Her curls brushed my face, tickling across my cheek and neck. Her eyes were still closed and she hung limply in my arms. Blood, either hers or mine, dripped down into the dust.\r\nI gritted my teeth and began to run.\r\n'