The other two began to move toward us at the sound of the crash — but sluggishly, somehow unnaturally, as if each step took them five whole seconds. My victim, who turned out to be a young girl packing a suitcase, barely managed to open her mouth to scream.
But pity was slipping away from me. My consciousness was fading under waves of terrible hunger. When I grabbed her, I tore her T-shirt on both sides and slightly pierced her skin, but the smell of living human blood was too tempting. Control over the body had no intention of returning. My field of vision narrowed until all that remained was a small spot a couple of meters wide instead of my usual wide-angle awareness.
And in that spot, my body focused entirely on the pulsating vein in the girl's neck.
No! I don't want to — and I won't!
But another attempt to stop myself failed. I was now merely a spectator. And all I could do was helplessly watch as, with a single backward leap, my body flew over the neighboring fence with the girl in its grasp, covering both the four meters from the house to the fence and the two-meter stone barrier itself.
Apparently, my bode had just enough sanity left not to start the feast in front of the approaching help. Or perhaps it was some kind of instinct? I'm not an expert in these things.
But the body had already begun its feast, sinking its teeth into the girl's neck with a guttural growl. She let out a frightened — I think frightened — moan and went limp. Did she lose consciousness? Good. At least she wouldn't suffer. Though, judging by how quickly the red liquid was flowing into me (and yes, I felt it very well acutely), she wouldn't have suffered for more than a couple of seconds anyway.
Three seconds later, she almost faded from my field of vision, her skin turning deathly pale, and only then did I feel control returning — that it was no longer instinct that was "at the wheel," but me.
I unclenched my jaw and pushed away the body of the twenty-year-old girl, feeling not only disgust and horror at what I had done, not only contempt for myself, but also a faint sting of regret. And I wasn't regretting the girl — no. I regretted not finishing her blood, because I could still see the faint glow around her and feel the remaining blood inside her.
Well, finish it! You want to — and it was delicious!
My inner voice taunted me again, pushing me toward the wrong decision.
And yes, I have to admit… it was delicious, and I crossed the line after all, and I don't feel like throwing up. Although, the latter is not surprising—my body would never willingly part with such a valuable liquid. But the disgust — the shame — was unbearable. I felt like a worthless creature, a weakling unable to control his own body, someone who had devoured a human being.
What now? Will I lose control every time I see blood? Or will any nearby human be enough to set me off?
At least I wasn't so pale anymore. I think I could pass for human on a thermal imager now — for a couple of hours, maybe. I know, I'm an optimist. The splattered blood, scant as it was, had already been absorbed through the pores of my skin like last time. My clothes were clean — well, as clean as an oversized, light green robe that looks like a mix between a surgeon's gown and a mental patient's shirt can be. No blood, only dirt and whatever else I'd picked up.
By the way… I really need to change. I still look exactly like I did when I escaped. If they're searching for me — and they definitely are — then I'm far too conspicuous. Yet another reason to head toward Raccoon City. While I can still be tracked in the surrounding areas (judging by the sheer number of fleeing people, the apocalypse hasn't spread yet and is still confined to one city), it will be much harder to find me inside the city among other monsters. I will be almost invisible there.
And then… well, then I'll have to help spread the zombie apocalypse beyond city borders, otherwise the hunt will remain focused entirely on me. True, according to canon, my involvement isn't necessary for the outbreak, but who knows. I shouldn't even be here — so who knows what my presence might change?
***
However, before I could take even a couple of steps away from the corpse, her memories crashed into me like a wave.
What the hell?!
That was the only coherent thought as I saw flashes of the girl's — Sarah's, apparently — school days. It was insane. I had all her memories, though they appeared faded, like an old movie reel. But still, they were there.
Although, on the bright side, it's good that there was no emotional coloring, so they wouldn't feel like my own life. As for how this was possible… I vaguely remembered something about "generational" data stored in human DNA. Maybe that was it?
But this… this simplified my task tremendously!
If this wasn't a one-time effect, then I needed to choose my next "recipient" wisely.
In other words, the scientists I planned to take revenge on would still end up as food. Even if this didn't put it in the skills section, their knowledge — even just as memories — would be incredibly useful to me. Though I should probably keep a couple of them alive. Knowledge is one thing, but "eggheads" with actual experience? That's another matter entirely.
So the plan stayed the same: first, find an assistant in Raccoon City — help them escape, since it'll be easier for me than for a regular human — and then choose a "recipient" for absorption later.
Hmm. I've really started thinking about some very unpleasant terminology: "recipient," "absorption." Great. A little more of this and I'll forget how to talk. I've come to the very thing I renounced.
I am a monster.
***
The last of Sarah's memories faded, and judging by the fact that her father and brother only had reached the fence, I must have been in that defenseless state for less than a minute — a relief, albeit a small one.
I sprinted away and hid on the opposite side of the building. Yes. I had made my decision: no killing people unnecessarily. Let this be my principle. Because without principles, the only difference between me and the usual creatures would be that I'm slightly smarter — and even that isn't guaranteed.