I don’t remember much about my life before. Flashes of color, the warmth of the sun, the taste of food. But those memories are fading, replaced by a relentless hunger. A hunger that gnaws at my core, a hunger that can only be satisfied with… flesh.

I wander the desolate streets, my senses heightened. The world is a symphony of scents, a cacophony of sounds. The living, once a source of fear, now a tempting meal. Their fear, their panic, it’s intoxicating.

I lurch forward, my decaying body a grotesque parody of humanity. My eyes, once a vibrant blue, are now dull and vacant. My skin, once smooth and warm, is now cold and mottled. Yet, I feel a strange sense of power. A power over life and death.

I stalk my prey, a lone survivor huddled in a darkened alley. Their fear fuels me. I pounce, my decaying form a blur. A scream, a struggle, and then silence. The taste of life, sweet and metallic, fills my senses.

As I feast, I wonder if there’s a part of me still human. A flicker of conscience, a shred of empathy. But such thoughts are fleeting. The hunger consumes me, leaving no room for doubt or remorse. I am a creature of the night, a monster born of decay. And I will continue to feed, until there is nothing left.