Twilight: Shadow (Fanfiction)

Pain.

It wasn't the usual pain of old injuries or the ache of a bruised soul. This was deeper, more primal-a savage pull from deep inside him, as though every nerve in his body was waking from a long slumber.

His breath caught.

The air was too thick, too vivid.

The smell of damp earth was overpowerin, mixed with the scent of wild things, decay, pine, and something alive.

And then-

Hunger.

It wasn't a gradual hunger. It crashed through him in waves, suffocating his thoughts, overwhelming him with it's primal force.

He could feel it deep in his chest, a gnawing, aching hunger, as if his very soul was thirsting for something. Blood.

His throat constricted, burning. His mouth went dry as his fangs elongated, the instinct to feed taking over, and he stumbled to his knees, trying to regain control.

He fought the overwhelming urge to rip into the nearest creature.

His body trembled. His mind screamed as the hunger clawed at him. His vision blurred as the shadows around him seemed to warp, shift, and dance. They called to him, a reflection of his own twisted desires.

He gritted his teeth, desperately trying to fight the insatiable craving. His hands were shaking as they curled into fists, nails digging into his palms.

And then, he felt something alive.

A chorus of them.

Deer, grazing in the distance, unaware. He could feel their pulsing hearts, their fragile lives beating rhythmically. Too perfect. Too inviting.

He swallowed hard, forcing his mind to focus. The shadows responded to his desperation, writhing beneath his fingertips. They were his, waiting for command.

But he couldn't focus on the deer-not yet. His control was slippin, and the world around him became a blur of motion and hunger.

He gathered what little reserve he had left and stepped forward.

Suddenly, the world was a blur. The shadows stretched, be ding, twisting as his new body moved with a speed and agility far beyond human capability. It was instinct. His legs carried him effortlessly, as if the very shadows beneath him were pulling him forward.

The first deer didn't have a chance. He slammed into it, pinning it to the ground with a force that crushed its ribs. It struggled weakly, it's life force pulsing against his skin as he crushed its throat with a single movement.

The blood came in torrents, hot thick, splashing across his face. And yet, the hunger was not satisfied.

There was more.

Another heartbeat.

He turned, almost too fast for his own eyes to follow, his senses drawn to the next prey. A larger, stronger deer stood at the edge of the clearing, eyes wide with terror, scenting him. It bolted

But this time, he was ready. The shadows responded as though they were extensios of his will. They wrapped around him, propelling him forward faster than his mind could comprehend.

He was on it in a split second, his fingers grapsing the creature's neck with brutal strength. The deer kicked and bucked, but it was no match for him. His fangs extended, and with one swift motion, he sunk them into the animal's throat, draining it's life force with an unnatural hunger that shook him to his core.

But even as the last drop of blood left it's body, the hunger remained-a gnawing, endless ache.

His new senses were sharp. Too sharp. Every heartbeat, every footstep, every whisper of life was now painfully clear to him.

And then, a scent on the wind. Something different.

A human.

A man. Not just any man. This one was rough. He stank of booze, grime, and unwashed clothes. A criminal, no doubt. His heartbeat erratically, heavy with adrenaline. He was close.

Hiding.

The shadows under the trees seemed to whisper, guiding him toward his prey.

The man came into view-a thug, eyes darting nervously as he stumbled through the woods clearly lost. He mutter under his breath, clutching a rusty knife in his hand.

The thug didn't see him at first. He didn't sense the darkness creeping behind him.

One moment, the man was fumbling for his bearings, and the next-the shadows were upon him.

With a swift motion, he shoved the thug into the nearest tree, pinning him with a strength that seemed almost unnatural.

The thug gasped, reaching for his knife, but his arm was grabbed, twsited, and forced behind his back.

"You're lost." The voice that came from his lips was colder than he intended.

His eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, catching the thug's attention.

The man's face paled. "Wh-what the hell are you?" He struggled, but the vampires grip was unyielding.

He could feel the thug's pulse pounding beneath his fingers-load, frantic. This man was fearful. But more than that-he was weak.

The vampire grinned. His fangs glistened in the moonlight. He could see the future flicker before his eyes, not of this man's death, but of something greater.

'This one could be of use.' His grip tightened.

The man whimpered but, before he could screem, the vampire sank his fangs deep into the thug's neck, draining him quickly. The shadows around him shuddered in pleasure.

Once the man was drained, he collapsed into the dirt, lifeless.

The vampire took a deep breath, savoring the rush of power, but something else lingered in his mind. He had taken a life, but not just for sustenance.

His shadow stirred.

The shadows at his feet were more than just an extension of his power they were now alive swirling and twisting as though searching for something else.

The vampire stared at the thug's body. The shadows reached out, enveloping the man, and when they retreated-he was changed.

He wasn't alive, but he wasn't truly dead either.

The vampire spoke softly,"You will serve me now."

The thug's body stirred, and he slowly stood, the shadow lifted from him, revealing a knight.

A loyal servant.

He was reborned.

As the thus-now his servant-stood before him, the vampire's mind churned. The God's words echoed in his thoughts, reminding him that he had no fate, no moral compass to guide him. He could do what he wished, without guilt. The freedom was intoxicatin, and the power-that was his birthright now.

But in this moment, standing over the thug's reanimated body, something gnawed at him. It wasn't hunger. It wasn't the instinctual need to control. It was something deeper-a part of him that had been human once, before he had given everything for power.

The thug's hollow eyes stared at him, void of emotion, simply waiting orders. The vampire's cheats tightened. Had he really done the right thing?

His fangs tingled, the desire to give the knight orders, to push him into battle, to use him like a tool, was strong. But was this his destiny? To be a king of shadows, with lives in his hands-without even the pretense of right and wrong?

He shook his head. The god had told him "Your actions are yours to command. No fate. No destiny. You carve your own path."

Yet, as the shadows at his feet danced, a faintsense of loss filled his chest. He had taken life so easily. The shadows wrapped around the thug as if it were a game, but to him, it felt like a sacrifice. The moment he had drained the thug, he had altered his very existence. The god had stripped him of human morality, but at what cost?

Could he live with becoming this- a creature of power, ruling over others like puppets? Could he truly embrace this freedom, knowing that it meant ruling over life and death with such indifference?

The vampire stared at his new servant, the knight at his feet, and for the first time since his rebirth, he asked himself:

'Was this freedom or was it just another form of slavery?'