Without A Heartbeat

Scarlett was partially delirious from her grievous wounds when she broke through the woods and out into the potato fields she knew so well. Blood dripped from her wounds, coating the tall grass that brushed against her sides. In the depths of her stomach the hunger was stirring, casting everything else into oblivion.

Scarlett staggered through onto the fields, her boots snagging on the potato shrubs and kicking up flecks of soil. Her knees collided with something hard and she tumbled over it, hitting the ground and feeling the damp soil rub against her cheek. Through wavering vision she saw the rusted plough that had been abandoned at the edge of the fields. Somewhere in the back of her mind it was a signal that something was wrong – that she should not be in this place, but she was too wounded and distracted to think clearly. Everything was dissolving away, slowly being replaced by the hunger. She climbed to her feet, stumbling like a drunkard as she pushed forward, inhaling a scent that was flowing towards her. In response, her fangs snapped down.

The cottages appeared ahead of her, dark and quiet. She moved towards the one she recognized most, her mouth salivating as she let out a low, continuous hiss. She reached the door and pushed. It broke easily and swung open, hitting the far wall. Someone stirred and a small voice called out in the darkness.

“Scarlett. Scarlett is that you?”

Panic rose inside of her and for a moment there was absolute clarity.

CONNOR! PLEASE NO!

The hunger fought against her rational mind, pushing it away. There was a single beat of silence and then she pounced, knocking her brother from the bed and onto the floor. He started to scream as she opened her mouth, preparing to bite.

Something seized her neck, jerking her to her feet. Scarlett was wrenched around and for a moment she saw a hooded woman with blonde hair and piercing, green eyes.

Then a fist as hard as stone flew towards her and everything went dark.