MunMun

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MunMun Excerpt:

What am I doing?
A single overhead light illuminated the darkness in the car. The smell of musk and urine stung my nostrils, but whether the urine was from the unconscious girl in the passenger seat or from the eight point buck she was impaled upon I didn’t care—I kept on drinking.
I pulled on the deer’s antlers, making the flow of blood increase as I pushed my face harder into her abdomen.
Please make me stop… somebody…
The red, metallic tasting fluid dripped down my chin as I swallowed more and more.
A whimper came from above my head—was she waking up?
My mind started racing as I lapped at her bleeding flesh even faster.
What should I do? Oh God, what if she realizes what I’m doing? Stop… just stop. Pull away. I need to stop…
But my body wasn’t listening to me. I could feel it pushing my little voice further and further into the darkness of my mind. My hand pushed her back as she feebly tried to move my head. The need for her blood intensified in me with her soft little moans.
“Avier…?”
Her voice whispering my name sent shivers down my body. My tongue slipped out and pushed inside her, snaking along the warm and bloody puncture wound.
“Avier… what are you doing…?”
Her voice. Sam’s voice. Not food. Sam.
“Please stop…”
I want to… but I want more. I want you to watch me drink every last drop from you…
I pulled at the antler again, getting another hot mouthful of her life. She sobbed above my head.
I’m so sorry Sam… I don’t know how to pull away.
My mouth was starting to water painfully, and a feeling of nausea was growing in my stomach. I became vaguely aware of the faint sound of a siren.
Please come save us… please stop me.
As the sirens got louder, the nausea got less and less ignorable. Finally, the feeling forced me to rip myself away from Sam. As I sat up, our eyes connected—hers were wide and terrified and streaming with tears.
I quickly ducked my head into the back seat as the urge to vomit overwhelmed me.
By the time my body had expelled everything that it didn’t like, paramedics were tugging on me and calling out words that I couldn’t understand. Sam was unconscious again. Someone said something about a helicopter… and then I was being driven away in an ambulance.
The hospital lights were too bright. Voices buzzed around me.
Several tests were run while the nurses and the doctor on call tried to figure out why I was puking blood… until my mom and Mike arrived. They took the medical staff aside and told them about my special condition.
After that, my lawyer/stepdad smoothed things over with the police—my mom whispering the word again: Renfield’s.
I was eventually diagnosed with a mild concussion and sent home with care orders.
All I heard about Sam was that she was flown in for emergency surgery.
I can still taste her.