Chapter 4: Hunting grounds
1104 Words
POV: Sierra
***
There is a light breeze in the air, gently floating across my skin. I don't really feel the cold anymore but it's nice to have the sensation.
The converted manor is nestled within a stretch of nature reserve just outside the city. Long ago, the land belonged to the lord who lived there and when it was converted into a reserve, an agreement was made that the place could still be occupied but given its own section of forest to avoid disruption to visitors of the reserve.
It's a perfect hide out and hunting ground when I get hungry.
My sense were all heightened when I Turned. At first, it was disorienting but I've grown accustomed to it now. There's a lot of benefit in being able to hear someone's heartbeat or smell their fear when you're trying to hunt.
I slip my heels off for now and just hold them. Trying to run through the woods at speed is difficult enough without tripping every 2 seconds - I learned that the hard way.
Taking a deep breath, I fill my lungs with the scents of the forest.
A rich, earthy smell hits me first. Layered over it, I can taste the sweetness of late-blooming berries, the clean crispness of running water and far off, blood from a wounded animal.
The noise at night is almost louder than the day, no longer drowned out by traffic from the nearby city.
I can hear every rustle in the undergrowth, every chattering fox and calling bird. Filtering out the things I don't want to hear took some practice but I've had years.
Darkness is slowly creeping across the ground beneath me. My ears adjust instantly, sharpening everything. The moon tonight is waning, hiding my movements as I break into a run.
Since I Turned, not only are my senses stronger but so am I. I can fight beats twice my size with ease and keep pace with wolves.
I fly through the forest, easily darting between the trees and leaping over fallen branches and shrubs. My reflexes on fire, instinctively guiding me safely even as the world blurs past.
The wind whips my hair and swirls my dress around. I'm free in a way I've never been before.
A primal howl tears from my throat when I pick up the scent trail of the wounded animal I noticed earlier. My nails sharpen to claws, my fangs push through my top gums and I know my eyes have narrowed to slits.
I drop lower to the ground, stalking slower through the woods. My heels lie discarded, forgotten.
I'm in tune with every shift in the air. A rustle, and I leap forwards, landing squarely on top of a fox.
Both of us skid along the floor, it's legs scrabbling for grip. I grab it tightly with my claws and sink my teeth into its neck.
The fox squeals once then falls limp in my arms. I drink hungrily, even though its blood is slightly sour from the injury. As long as its thick and warm, it'll satisfy my hunger.
Once I'm finished, I feel flush with energy.
It's almost what I think being alive would be like.
I feel the smallest twinge of guilt for the poor fox but its quickly replaced with a heady desire running through me. It's played its part in the food chain and I can't help that I'm the apex predator.
Wiping the blood from my chin, I retrace my steps to find my heels. I've got a date to get to.
May is at a party tonight, according to her friend. It wasn't hard to spy on her and find out the location.
Normally, I stay in the shadows but I couldn't resist this perfect opportunity. I can be in and out without anyone asking questions.
I run the rest of the way through the woods before putting my shoes back on and straightening my dress.
The party is a couple of streets away and will be in full swing by the time I get there.
I really hope May isn't a big drinker. Alcohol has no effect on me and just tastes bitter now. It'd be a shame to be stuck with that all night.
I round the final corner and immediately spot the party. There are a dozen cars parked on the street, music blaring, and a couple of drunk lover birds kissing by the garden gate.
My stomach twists with something cutting when I look at them.
No time for nerves. It's not the first time.
I raise my chin in a haughty manner and stroll straight up the drive to the front door.
I can feel eyes on me as soon as I walk in, not doubt watching the way my dress rides up dangerously high on my legs when I move. Either that, or they're staring in shock at the paleness of my skin, unnatural but mesmerising to most humans.
The host rushes over to me. She's a slight girl with dirty blonde hair and a bright pink outfit. A drink sloshes in her hand.
Slutty, but trying to hard. Boring.
"Oh my gosh, look at you!"
How annoyingly high-pitched her voice is.
"You know this wasn't a costume party, silly." Her laughter sounds more like a cackle.
I flash her a half-hearted smile. "My mistake. A friend of mine invited me, she must have been confused."
"Aw, or maybe they're playing a trick on you! Who is it? I know everyone here."
"May Thomas. Curly hair, a bit short, lots of eyeshadow."
I could go on, listing every tiny detail I've noticed over the years. The way she stutters when she's had a drink, the way her eyes darken when she's angry, the freckles on her lower back that she rarely shows.
But my rough description was clearly enough, since the woman squeals and cries out, "May! Of course I know her. She's normally with Kat but she's busy with her new boy, if you catch my drift. May is just through the hall and I last saw her chatting by the dining table. Probably getting hungry after the amount she's had to drink. Although, she doesn't normally-"
"Thank you. I can find her from that."
I cut the host off, not caring to learn her name or apologise for my rudeness as I slip gracefully through the crowd to the dining room.
May is here, I can smell it. Her perfume is overwhelming but beneath it is her natural scent, slightly sweet, like apple and cinammon.
"Hey. Do I know you?"
- Writer
