Children of The Fallen

Chapter 13: sticking to the regimen

Morgan Sinclair

I wish I could say I woke up the next day peaceful and content given last nights events but unfortunately that's not the case.

I wake up gasping in a cold sweat to excruciating pain in my stomach expanding outward to the rest of my body. My throat was set aflame in a violent fury. I wanted to scream but it felt like my throat was constricting itself, every breath only making it worse. My constant splitting headache was exceptionally painful, and my gums; with an unbearable sharp pain like someone was gripping my teeth and slowly tearing them out.

Tears slid down my face as I manage to crawl out of bed, flopping onto the floor. With a quick and intense spike of pain coming from my mouth, I bring my hand up like covering my mouth would lessen the pain but my heart stops when I feel something poking out in my mouth.

With every ounce of strength I have, I lift myself up leaning on the bed. Standing up, I pray my legs don't give out from underneath me. I hobble around the bed trying to get to the bathroom, ignoring my body screaming at me as much as I can. I slam myself into the wall next to the bathroom, panting not even trying to breathe normally. With my tongue I feel the sharp foreign objects now in my mouth. I whimper as I slide myself along the wall, pushing open the door to the bathroom. I haphazardly switch the newly fixed light on as I stumble over to the sink, propping myself up against the wall and gripping the side of the sink.

I look at my sickly reflection in the mirror. Eyes sunken and turned their black and red, drenched in sweat, my hair soaked and stuck to my forehead. Not to mention my complexion that looks nearly gray. I groan as a pang from my stomach nearly causes me to fall. I know what I need to make this stop but I can't- I have a fucking regimen. My thoughts mock.

I reluctantly open my mouth, already knowing what I was about to see but not wanting to. I stare at my teeth, or more so fangs. My canines now long and pointed, on either side; my incisors and first premolars- smaller and slightly curved sharpened teeth. I raise my trembling hand touching the new additions to confirm that they're real and it isn't a part of a fever dream.

The moment of distraction from my body in flames ends abruptly with an excruciating shooting pain in my stomach forcing me to drop to the ground.

I was trying really hard to listen to them, to Chloe, to Dane, to Kellan, but I can't. I need this to stop. I get up from the floor and with this supernatural speed that I have no idea how to work, I suddenly appear at my bedroom door, falling into it. I grip the doorknob, unintentionally ripping not just the doorknob off but some of the surrounding door with it. I throw it to the ground not caring about the damage at the moment. I stumble down the hallway falling into the wall every other step. I probably look like a drunken zombie, harshly breathing and groaning in pain as I make my way down the hall.

My speed kicks in and I sprint past the living room slamming into the kitchen island. My legs give out, unable to stand I crawl the last remaining feet to the fridge. Flinging open the door I locate the blood bags, I audibly wail as the pain somehow manages to get worse the second I see the blood bags. I grab one, immediately sinking my fangs into the bag, collapsing back against the cabinets while the mouthwatering substance flows as fast as possible into my mouth.

Before I could process the fact that I could breathe without pain again, or that my bodily torment is almost completely gone, I reach for a second. Doing the same, biting into the bag once more. Relief, pleasure, contentment, power replaces any pain I was once feeling. Unconsciously- instinctually I go for another but before I could grab it I feel hands on my shoulders pulling me up and away from the fridge.

In a frenzy I turn to whoever is grabbing me not caring or seeing who it is and shoving them as hard as I can away from me. I go to sprint back to the fridge, halted by another who grabs onto my shoulders. I slap away their hands, knocking them to the side. My arms are forced behind my back as my body gets pushed into the side of the fridge.