Pain. Reason is aflame.
Reaches fever pitch, the need unlimited and blinded by anger. All semblance of humanity has been lost within the pounding Hell.
Racing the shadows, ancient predator, the streets have no meaning within the slicing, tearing pain.
The hunger explodes!
He leaps from death alley, with an animal grace – land shark – carnivore ultima.
Sharpened talon nails rip into the neck of the cheap Magdalene. The five-buck-fuck whore.
Weight of pain collapses down, sending victim and hunter sprawling.
Flight of momentum through the air, smashing into the wall.
Ivory fangs tear deeper at the love-bitten, no broken, neck even as they fall.
His rage engulfs him, he smashes her head into the red-brick wall, smearing brains and blood.
Amongst the carnage the hunter drinks.
The hunger, for a moment, subdued.
The anger numbed.
Only a cold hatred remains…
Sheraton, I will hunt you down…
You fucking bastard.
© 1990 & 2006 Andrew M Boylan