Blackness. Ni sound except for the distant drip of water. It's cold. The odor of nasty mold hangs in the thick cold air. I am surrounded by three cement walls, slimy with mildew and water. Ahead of me is open darkness. Death is in the atmosphere. I can smell the blood slowly dribbling toward me. Its metallic warmth seeps through my tattered blue jeans.
I am alone, except for the bloody corpse sitting feet ahead of me. I know it's there, though I can't see it. I can small the already rotting flesh. I feel sweat slide down my neck. As I wipe it away I realize it is thicker that sweat. I put my fingers to my lips and taste the warm liquid. Blood, my own blood.
I muffle a cry. Why was I here? Why was my best friend's mangled body lying only feet away from me? I hear a squeak, and almost scream. I can hear a mouse, no bigger than a mouse, a rat skittering around. Then I hear the sounds of ripping flesh. I kneel over and vomit in the puddle of blood in front of me. The stench of my own vomit makes me throw up again.
I sit back against the wall, dehydrated, tired and scared. I scrunch up into a ball and cry. I cry until I have no more tears. My stomach growls, but I don't feel hungry. I feel thirsty. I try to swallow my own spit, but it just makes the thirst worse. I try adjusting my body and my hand splashes in some blood. I grimace as it splatters onto my face.
The iron of the blood is strong. I go to wipe a drop off my lip, but instead, involuntarily I lick it off. At first I am sickened, but then my thirst seemed to be quenched for only but a second. I look at my blood covered hand. Though I couldn't see it, I could smell the blood. I slowly put my hand to my mouth for another taste.
The next thing I know I'm crawling in search of my best friend, now my only source to quench this sickening thirst. I touch the body and foreign instincts take over. I feel the body for unharmed skin. The neck was torn open, along with the chest and stomach. I grab an arm and then sink my teeth, no, fangs into the skin. I drink my first, but certainly not last feast of blood.