Vicho's Journal

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(…)

I feel reality crumbling around me.

Once again I woke up not remembering the night before. Just… a red haze, glimpses of sensations, of faces. Emotions like fear and rage. And hunger. Are they dreams? My vrakhiri nature making its demands known?

Or maybe they’re memories? Please God, let that not be true.

(…)

Another night I can’t remember. I woke up in my bed, feeling my hunger gone. And with blood crusted under my fingernails. What does it mean? Did I feed on some cattle outside of the city? Or did something much worse happen?

I pray for guidance. I must resist the voices in my head. I’ve denied them for so many years already…