She's My Prey Episode 2

Chapter 1

RENEM

The dark elf shivers, fear emanating from every pore. I’m almost drunk off the scent but I need to know what the other scent is. If I want to know, I’ll need to change tactics. I can’t seem threatening just yet. I have to put the creature at ease. So I position myself in a non-threatening posture, trying to look smaller and less aggressive.

“Tell me, what is that scent?” I repeat. My voice is still deep and rumbling but I work to keep the growl out of it. I lean in to sniff it again.

Everything in me feels warm whenever I breathe it in. I want to get lost in the scent, to drown in it. I want to rub up against the elf to get the scent into my skin.

The dark elf stares at me, eyes wide and I take another whiff but this time the sour scent of piss erases the wonderful smell.

I glance down and see that the useless thing has pissed itself in fear.

How disgusting. What an utterly worthless creature.

“Pathetic,” I spit at him. Did he urinate on himself to erase the scent? The dark elf looks so frightened, he’s clutching at a necklace around his throat.

I’m going to kill him now, end his worthless existence. I have the scent memorized and I don’t need him anymore anyway. I’ll enjoy tearing him apart limb from limb. And then I’ll clean him up to get rid of the sour scent of piss before I devour him.

This one deserves to be eaten.

I raise my hand, shooting it out to strangle him and be done with it but the elf smirks as the necklace lights up and he disappears on the spot.

Gods! I stare at the spot, the stench of his strange magic stuffing itself up my nose. I won’t be able to catch up to him now.

I stare into the distance, wondering if it’s worth trying to find him again. Probably not.

At least I still have plenty of food to eat.

Forgoing pursuing the dark elf, I bend down and grab the first body, tearing chunks off him as I gobble him down. The hot blood slides down my throat easily as I swallow, warming me from the inside.

This has been a wonderful night. All that dark elf fresh meat, and a strange new scent to find. As I eat, I contemplate the way that scent made strange things rise in my body, sensations that I don’t yet have a name for. It was quite a different experience. I wonder what it means?

I’ve heard before that sometimes waira can find one who’s blood calls to them. Bloodsong, it’s called. There’s something out there that gives off a bloodsong for me.

It’s compelling, and I can’t focus on anything else.

The dead elves are particularly potent and the more of them I consume, the more magic thrums inside of me. I feel it rush through my blood, pounding in my veins, lighting me up as new connections are made in my brain.

The buzz is incredible, more than I could have hoped for tonight. I’m half a mind to track down the dark elf that escaped later on, just so I can consume more of his powerful guards.

Licking my face clean of blood, I head down to the river to wash off so I can track the wonderful scent that I discovered. I want to track that scent alone, no distractions. So I can’t be seen this time, much less leave any kind of bloody trail.

The waira in me is eager to continue hunting but the part of me that is drawn to the bloodsong wants to get started right away in tracking it down. I compromise by deciding that I’ll track the one who gives me bloodsong and eat any wayward elves I find along the way.

It’s satisfying to track the scent, different from other hunts I’ve initiated in my centuries on this planet. I have trouble picking it up at first, because the dark elf’s piss soured the beginning of the trail but eventually I find it again near the large gardens on the edge of the city.

The scent intrigues me. What is it about this scent that is so different from all others? What is it about this scent that makes me feel so calm inside? I need to know who’s blood calls to me.

The trail goes cold at the far entrance to the gardens again. Gods. I despise the worthless dark elf that got away from me. I vow to myself to find him again one day and eat him. I refuse to let such sniveling prey get away.

But first, I must find the owner of this scent. The trail has gone cold and I’m starting to get frustrated. I find a low caste dark elf asleep on a stoop, shivering in the cold air. I end its life quickly, consuming it greedily. This gives me the boost I need to keep going.

Slinking through the deserted streets, I manage to pick up faint traces of the scent here and there. It’s quite the challenge, which only makes me more determined to find its source. It calls to me, seductively beckoning me forward. The scent is like nothing I’ve ever smelled before.

The stars twinkle above, as though mocking me for my seemingly futile quest to find the scent’s owner. I ignore them, knowing that I am all but a god in my own right and therefore am entitled to everything this world has to offer for me.

The night is clear and cloudless. A cool breeze whips past me, fluttering my tattered garments. I pick up the scent again near the docks, breathing deeply as I get down to the ground and inhaling the scent again before setting off.

Whatever the dark elf has done tonight, he’s spent much time wandering around. I won’t speculate what he’s been up to – I can only guess – but he’s been to quite a few places in the city.

I would assume he’s used his magical amulet to transport himself at some points, since those are where I lose the scent again, but I’m determined to find the source so I keep going.

Every molecule in my body is vibrating with energy. I have purpose, I have something to hunt. Even more than the previous two hunts of the night, my blood sings in excitement and anticipation for this one.

The thrill of the chase is what fuels me right now, running all over the city as I sniff out the delicious scent that’s been calling to me all evening. I feel the stillness of the city around me, as though there’s something unspoken in the air—careful all who wander, there is a beast on the hunt. Beware, beware and hide from him.

No matter. There is no scent I cannot track, no smell I cannot find. I have been evolving for centuries into the perfect predator. Every higher conscious being I’ve consumed has only strengthened me, given me more magic, more intelligence.

I’ve had the chance to perfect my sense of smell, to track even the faintest and the oldest tracks. A large prey beast could have wandered through the area six months ago and I could pick up his trail and hunt him down before he could even realize I was coming after him.

I feel like I’m getting closer, though the agitation rises as I realize that this elf has doubled back to several places in the city. I’ve hit the same bar twice now, and once I found myself doubling back to a particular alleyway, only to realize that the elf relieved himself here several times over the course of a few days.

What is it about this spot that has him returning nightly to piss here? It’s a nondescript, out of the way place.

Who knows? All I care about is finding the source of the scent that was clinging to the elf like a vine wrapped around a tree. It was separate and distinct from his, but entwined like he’d been somewhere recent enough for it to get all over him.

The delectable nature of the scent is intriguing. I don’t know much about emotions. I’ve consumed enough dark elves to realize that there is more to life than famished hunger and endless hunts.

I don’t care about that but I know there’s more.

But I’ve only ever known my hunger, my drive for more—the urge to track, to eat, to sleep...to digest.

So now I’m faced with an unknown emotion inside of me and I want to know what it is and why I feel it so strongly when I smell this scent.

Creeping along a darkened alley, I hear rustling in the distance. Someone is throwing their garbage out late in the evening and has been caught unawares.

I’m getting closer to the source of the scent now. I can feel it. Do I deviate from my hunt to snatch up this emboldened elf who dares venture out in the darkest hours, or do I stay the course, remain rigid on my hunt and track the source?

I debate myself in my head, weighing the pros and cons. If I deviate, I may well risk losing the scent again. I’m so focused that I don’t want to stop just now.

But if I stop, I can get another tasty snack. Glancing up at the night sky once more, I contemplate my decision.

Right to the source it is. I’m as satiated as I can be right now, and despite the ever-present, gnawing hunger I feel, I know more prey will do little to remedy it. Only this strange scent seems to take the edge off, dull the sharp pangs of hunger that live within me.

I follow a path leading from this dingy district of the city through a thicket of woods, the smells of urine and bodily fluids fading as that strange scent grows stronger. Flashes of stone and lumber begin to flash through the gaps in the trees, and I crouch slightly, making sure to move quietly.

Sniffing the air deeply once more, I feel it in my skin. I’m right there, right upon the source of the scent I’ve been so dutifully tracking.

Approaching my destination with careful, measured footsteps, I glance up, adrenaline pumping through my body.

Perfect. I stare at the building before me. Is the source itself inside?