“Stop looking at me like that, fledgling,” Elissa snapped. “You’re still weak. I could hold you down with one hand, and pick you apart with the other.”

Warily, Abe eyed her—struggling to suppress his smirk against the intoxicating power that still filled his veins.

“Feels good, doesn’t it,” Elissa chuckled, a smile peeling back what little lip she had to exaggerate her already puffy, red gum.

“What’s happening to me?” Abe muttered as his heart slowed, looking down as his claw-like nails retracted slightly into his gray flesh.

“Excited your hunger, did you?” Elissa mocked. “Ricky, I’ll let the Mistress know. He’s all yours now,” she added, turning and making her way back up the stairs.

“Come on then,” Ricky said, gesturing for Abe to follow.

“I ate them,” Abe quivered.

“I know, you’re a ghoul. That’s kind of what your kind do.”

“All of us?” His voice trembled.

Ricky nodded as he floated, “You’re different of course. Never seen a ghoul yap like you for starters. They call it a faux evolution, a means to wake a ghoul up. Never even heard of your kind speaking before they’ve chopped up their buddies.”

“I keep hearing this… But I don’t feel fucking special. I’m a monster, what I did in there…”

“Look, you’re thinking too much. You’re probably going to break that noggin of yours if you keep it up. Just relax, give yourself some time.”

Silence followed for a moment.

“Come on then,” Ricky said.

Abe followed, leaving a trail of muck and blackish ichor behind.

Gesturing to a wooden door before the one leading up to the manor, Rick said, “In.”

It was a dark, small, stone-walled room.

A second later, a faucet squeaked open, and Abe’s senses alerted him to the water traveling through the pipes ahead well before it sprayed out across him.

It was freezing but not bothersome. It was a strange sensation. He knew ice-cold water was flowing over his body, but it didn’t so much as cause a sniffle.

Embracing what might have been the closest thing to normal since arriving at the manor, Abe extended his arms and closed his eyes for a moment.

“Come on, we don’t have all day, scrub yourself!” Ricky shouted from the corridor.

Abe did as commanded, and a second later, a bar of soap slid across the floor toward him.

“Use it,” Ricky said.

There was a towel waiting for him when he exited, and he eyed Ricky with a little less suspicion as he dried his hair, “Now what?”

“We return to the kennels. Wait to hear what the Mistress says about all this. She likes you, I can tell. She might even give you a trial to earn a room if you’re lucky.”

“I have to do something like that again?” Abe stammered, a tingle of fear rushing through his veins.

“No, not that again. Newborns have little purpose but to feed their siblings. You’re past that stage—you’re an awoken ghoul now. Feeding on those weaklings would do nothing for you in your current state. Next time, she’ll have something a little more interesting.”

They returned to the Kennels. Abe entered his cell without struggle. He doubted there was any point in refusing. He believed Elissa when she said she could hold him down without effort, and Miss Nia was no doubt stronger.

He glanced over to the empty cells around him. The lack of groaning was a relief but also a reminder.

Flashbacks of breaking skulls open and feeding on their innards rushed through him, forcing him to turn away from the cells.

What had he done?

Abe curled up, faced the wall, and rocked.

How could he have descended so fast?

I’m a monster. They were alive, at least in some sense of the word. And I murdered them, no, I devoured them.

Glancing over at the suit left for him folded beside the door made it even worse. There was something about monsters dressing up as humans that revolted more than anything.

He retched, saliva forming in his mouth. Falling forward, he rested on his palms and gagged. He wanted to throw up, to expel the cursed brains he had devoured. Nothing came.

He glared at his dirty fingers—grime, blood, and bits beneath his nails, and shoved them down.

His hand caught in his mouth stuck at his wrist.

With a grunt, Abe pressed his free hand against his elbow and pushed. Saliva ran along his fingers, down his arm.

It was sickening, but it didn’t make him sick.

He pressed himself against the wall and pushed harder, forcing his hand past his wrist down his throat.

Nothing. Not the slightest sensation of sickness.

A mixture of tears and ichor welled in his eyes, trickling down his cheeks as he continued to push.

Just fucking throw up, please! Just listen to me. You’re my body, throw the fuck up!

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Falling to his side, Abe coughed and released his hand. Letting his mind wander as he lay there. He wished for anything but to think.

Envy for those dumb ghouls grew within.

Hours later.

“Up,” came a knock on the bars.

Shifting, Abe glanced up at Elissa.

“She’s ready for you.”

Abe tilted his head.

“Don’t make me ask again.”

Grunting, he climbed to his feet as she unlocked the door.

“Be respectful,” Elissa growled as they walked through the manor. “I’ve never seen a newborn or fledgling treated like you. Feeding you in person, it’s an honor, and it makes me sick.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Abe quipped, and Elissa swung around, glaring at him with a quivering lip.

“You’ll learn respect one way or another.”

Swallowing, he held his mouth.

Snorting, she turned back toward the corridor, “You don’t deserve it. You haven’t proven yourself by eating a few newborns.”

He let the statement go unchallenged.

“It should be me, everything I’ve done for her,” she shook. “I’ve served for decades. I’ve proven myself, and yet I’m relegated to blood packs.”

They reached arching, hardwood doors. Elissa stopped and knocked.

“Let him enter,” a feminine drawl curled from within.

Elissa stood aside and gestured with a nod for him to enter.

Abe hesitated a moment before taking the brass handle and slowly easing it open.

A plush, golden room of red satins lay beyond. Old-timely furniture made of dark timber filled much of the room, with the far end split in half by a curtain that shrouded what lay beyond.

Scanning the room, he stopped as he saw a silhouette rise behind the curtain and beckon him forth with a wave.

Abe swallowed and submitted, though he likely hadn’t a choice.

He took steady steps, heart pounding as he grew closer to her outline.

Pausing a moment, he took a deep breath before gently pushing the curtain aside.

There she was, standing at the head of her four-poster bed, a seductive smile playing on her lips. She wore loose, silky robes that hung delicately across the outline of her breasts and hips, draped by her long, white hair.

Abe swallowed as she stepped toward him, her pale white feet bare on the cold, stone floor—nails painted red.

“How did it feel to know true hunger?” she said, eyeing his lips.

He opened his mouth but words failed. Although he doubted it mattered. She knew exactly how it felt.

“Seductive, isn’t it? The hunger, and the power it brings?” She glided to his side, her steps impossibly soft, and ran a finger across his frame as she circled and leaned in to take a deep whiff of his neck. “And it's only just a beginning for you.”

“Why, why did you do this to me?”

“You wouldn’t understand, even if I explained every last detail.”

Furrowing his brow, Abe narrowed on her as she came to face him.

“The fierceness in those eyes, they’re perfect.”

“I’m not a plaything.”

“Tell me, Abraham,” she said, placing her index upon his lips. “Do you still feel any hunger?”

“No,” he said, ignoring her finger.

“Are you sure?” she dipped her head as she eyed him.

An involuntary sniff escaped him, and his heart pounded. It was different than before.

Suddenly he was aware of his bones, and a weakness growing within. It had been hidden by his feasting and the growth he had experienced. But it was there, growing by the moment.

“What did you do to me?”

“Nothing,” she smiled, flashing her dagger-like fangs. “Well, nothing new at least. The hunger you feel has always been there and always will be. You were just too immature to feel it. It's what binds you to me. It's why you need me,” she added, leaning into his ear and whispering.

“I don’t need anything from you, monster!” Abe stepped back, but with every stumbled step, his legs grew heavier.

“Oh, really?” she arched a brow. “Are you sure?” Running one of her long, red nails against her wrist, she slit it open as if it were paper, immediately soaking her arm in bright, red blood that trickled down—creating snaking streams that quickly joined together and ran down her elbow.

His pupils dilating, salvia filled his mouth and he inched forward.

“Like I thought,” she said, placing a pale hand over the wound.

“Blood,” he whispered, every inch of his body compelling him forward.

“Not so fast,” she extended her right foot into his gut and twisted.

Abe wrapped his hands around her ankle and calf, but he had no strength to move her even an inch.

Effortlessly, she pushed him back several feet.

“Down,” she motioned with a finger.

“What?”

“On your knees.”

Abe narrowed his gaze on her and huffed.

“Now,” she pointed at the ground beside her feet.

“The power from before, can’t you just use that to force me?” he gritted his teeth.

“I prefer it this way,” she said, removing her hand from her bloodied wrist and letting the blood flow.

Hunger panged and he pushed forward but was sent skidding back against the tiles as she kicked into his gut again.

He glanced at the stone floor and snorted, then narrowed on Miss Nia and sneered.

“Not thirsty then, I assume?” she retracted her wrist and he lurched forward as if losing control of his body.

“Fine,” Abe spat, lowering to kneel.

“Like a dog!” she hissed.

Eyeing Nia the entire time, Abe lowered himself to all fours.

“Good boy,” she lisped, dragging her breathy words out. “See, you can be tamed. Now rollover.”

“Seriously?”

Miss Nia shrugged.

Shaking his head, Abe rolled, looking back up at her afterward.

“Good, now be gentle,” she said, stepping closer and lowering her wrist.

Abe could hardly control himself as the scent of her blood neared, and he leaped for it, biting into her wrist.

A moan escaped her lips as his fangs dove through her flesh and his mouth filled with her intoxicating blood. Every second that passed with his mouth wrapped around her wrist made him feel stronger and more alive.

Miss Nia’s knees buckled a moment, but she quickly straightened to hide the moment of weakness. Not that it mattered—entirely engrossed in her freely flowing blood, Abe had been none the wiser.

Her fingers caressed his hair as he drank, a feeling of longevity flooding his veins.

“You’ve been a good child, Abraham. You’ve grown stronger and bested your siblings. It's all I could have asked from you.”

He groaned, tightening his grip around her forearm as he sucked harder.

“But I will have to ask for more. There are uncertain times ahead, and I need somebody strong at my side. I will challenge you, but it is as much for your own good, as it is for mine. Don’t let me down, you show so much potential. But even those with the greatest potential can be wasted.”

As she ran her pale fingers through his hair, she looped them through the sandy strands and tightened them into a fist.

“Enough,” she commanded, pulling him free by his hair and flinging him effortlessly across the room.

Slamming against the hard stone, Abe grunted and looked up at his Mistress—face stained in her blood.

“I know you hunger for more, young Abraham,” she waved a finger. “But you shall have to earn it. Now away,” she gestured with a flick of her head.

Abe growled low, but obeyed, crawling several feet before standing and eyeing her as he opened the door to leave.

As the door sounded, Miss Nia placed her hand against her wrist and shuddered as the wound healed.

Her knees trembled and she took a deep, steadying breath.

“What is he?” she mouthed, looking down at the wound on her wrist as it closed—and a wave of tingling vibrations made her body tremble.