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Lizbeth clung to her knees in a dark corner of the dungeons deep within the Nixus estate. She had only lasted a day before finding her way back to the only place her twisted mind found solace. Her mind reeled in agony though her form remained motionless as she sat in her solemn corner of exile. Thoughts of that night alone plagued her to the core, sending shrill aches down to her center and from it radiating a nauseating pulse. The images were a blur but clear enough to set her teeth on edge; forcing her to squeeze her legs to her chest as if that were going to alleviate the pain.

--few days earlier.

Her body was hot as she walked the dark streets of the ghetto. Her arms clasped around her stomach as they tried to restrain the bizarre urge that permeated into her bones. It wasn't a dull ache but a wildfire of desire that gave her a cold sweat; thanking whatever God was out there when he granted a cool breeze to rush past her. The road was dimly lit and hardly any life on the street as she stumbled her way through. But it wasn't long before some poor, unlucky bastard poked his nose into a trap he did not see. A door opened off to the girls left, an older man with slight graying hairs stepping out from behind it with a soft, concerned look across his face. "Oh dear. Come in side child, you look terrible." He cooed sincerely as he beckoned her with his hand.

From the door wafted a scent unlike any; like a mix of rose and vanilla, screaming an odd sense of relief to her nerves that she desperately craved more of. Her body tried to resist but the pull nearly knocked her off her feet. She shambled across the street and entered the home, her strained eyes glancing at him as she passed. He closed the door behind her and ushered her innocently to the couch, helping her sit without falling. He crouched before Lizbeth and placed a soft hand to her head and sighed. "You're burning up dear, let me get something for you." he offered and left before Lizbeth could protest.

Before she knew it the man had returned with a cool damp rag and a strangely colored syrup. He placed and held the cool rag to Lizbeth's forehead and offered the syrup with the other hand. "Here, drink this. It'll help with the cold." he insisted. Thinking the man was right and it was only a cold she took the small cup and down the liquid, wincing and gagging at the foul taste; though the man got a laugh out of it. "I know it tastes bad, but it'll help." He smiled. A smile so genuine and kind that it was almost heavenly. Why couldn't it have been someone else...

The medicine didn't make anything better. Her body only ached more and more as the tireless seconds droned on. But that sweet smell of rose and vanilla pulled at her still. She looked around curiously as she tried to find the source that she was so drawn to but her eyes kept falling back to the man crouched before her. She dismissed it though, why would her senses be drawn so strongly to this stranger. Her cravings weren't of affection or romance, it was hunger. A type of hunger that could cripple a man. A hunger that pulled at your very essence until you succumb to it. And Lizbeth was slowly losing that battle with hunger. Why couldn't it have been someone else...

It wasn't long before Lizbeth lost that battle within herself. Lunging from the couch and taking the man with her, slamming him into the far wall and pinning him there with a strength she didn't realize that she had. That smile washed away into a look of terror, her hand around his throat and leaving him without a voice. She didn't know if the man was cowering or what though she was beginning to look down at the man as if he were beginning to slouch but he seemed to be standing straight up. She dismissed the thought. She didn't care enough to investigate. She suddenly then stole a kiss from his lips. It was only a moment before this strange, soothing heat burst through her veins. Sparks ignited under her skin so tantalizing that it caused her to groan passionately against the mans lips. Why couldn't it have been someone else...

Her consciousness soon left her in a haze until she awoke the next morning, curling up in a ball in the center of the living room; broken pieces of glass and wood scattered across the oak floor. She groaned as she began to regain consciousness, rubbing her head as it ached like a bad hang over though strangely her body felt more alive than it ever had. She opened her eyes to a blur of sleep, though a few blinks began to crystallize her view. Her heart sank into her gut at the vision before her. There the man sat against the wall, his flesh sucked in like a mummy without any semblance of life left in his sunken eyes. The shock quickly faded before it was filled with an overwhelming sense of nausea. She heaved dry air though no substance was found in her stomach to evacuate. The heaves tore at her throat but she couldn't stop, the image so traumatizing and horrific that it was the only thing she could do to try and rid the disgust. Why couldn't it have been someone else...

It had been several hours before the traumatized Lizbeth finally stopped staring at the corpse and pushed herself up off the floor. Her body ached for comfort. She didn't care what. She soon found that her feet had carried her all the way back to the Nixus estate. She was greeted warmly, a prized pet had found its way back to the nest. She didn't care. Her mind was too plagued with horrifying thoughts to have any space left for caring. So she followed along down to the dungeon where she was to be kept; a place she found fitting for what she had become. So there she sat in her dark corner for the following days without touching any of her food. Simply clinging her knees to her chest as images shuffled through her mind of the mans kind, warm smile and how she had twisted that face into a husk.

...Why couldn't it have been someone else...
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