Chapter 25. A Vampire
The kind of pain my turning inflicted is the only way to describe how this feels, and I don’t know how to finish transforming. If I don’t, I’ll die for sure… we can’t heal the way we can as wolves, and I’m critical. Something’s keeping me weak enough that turning isn’t happening. No matter how desperate my instincts are, the self-preservation function of my kind seems absent. We’re meant to turn without thought when we’re seriously messed up. To save ourselves. It’s so typical that I can’t even get that right.
I can feel my human body giving up on me. I’m losing so much blood the grass around me is soaking parts of my clothes that weren’t wet before, and the metallic stench of my essence is dowsing out everything else. I claw the grass around my hands, which are splayed out as I’m on my stomach, and pull myself forward painfully. Refusing to give up altogether. Trying so hard to fight this and sobbing out loud with each wincing attempt.
The impending fate is falling over
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