Eternally Bound by Blood(Dark Bl)

Eric crouched in the corner of the cave, his body tense and alert, his eyes fixated on the unconscious figure sprawled on the cold stone floor. The morning light seeped through the entrance, casting an ethereal glow that illuminated the cave's damp walls, which was surreal compared to the darkness that enveloped him.

The man lay as if in a deep slumber, his pale skin almost luminescent against the rugged backdrop. An aura of otherworldliness surrounded him, accentuated by the fine, silvery strands of hair that framed his angular face, reminiscent of an albino's delicate features. His long white lashes rested softly against high cheekbones, and his lips, though parted, bore no trace of the brutal wound that had once marred his neck.

The burning hunger returned, clawing at Eric's throat at the mere thought of the ancient blood coursing through the man's veins. His fangs throbbed, the memory of that intoxicating taste lingering tantalizingly on his tongue

The sun outside rose higher, bright and blinding, its rays penetrating the cave and warming the air around him, but he stayed rooted in place, unwilling to look away from the man. Who or what was this creature that could heal so quickly? He felt a strange sense of familiarity wash over him, a connection that he couldn't quite place, even though he had never met the man before. His mind raced, torn between horror at the memory of his actions and a dark fascination with the man's supernatural resilience.

As the hours drifted into midday, the light intensified, reflecting off the cave walls in a mesmerizing dance of shadows and brightness. Eric felt like a predator crouched in the shadows, waiting for prey, but the hunger gnawed at him with increasing urgency. The man's scent lingered in the air—a heady mix of blood and something floral, something he couldn't identify. Yet the warmth that filtered into the cave made his skin crawl, a constant reminder of the danger posed by the sunlight.

The stillness of the cave was unnerving, amplifying the sound of his own breathing. Eric's patience began to fray as the sun climbed higher, its rays creeping ever closer. Each moment stretched endlessly, filled with unspoken questions. Would the man wake? What would happen when he did? Would he consider Eric to be an enemy or his savior?

By late afternoon, Eric's resolve weakened. He had waited long enough, and his hunger had subsided only slightly, replaced by a growing sense of urgency to escape. The shadows that had once offered him solace felt confining, and his instincts screamed for freedom but a small part of him, a part he didn't understand,wanted to stay.To be there when the man awoke. His gaze darted between the entrance of the cave and the sleeping figure, each glance amplifying his unease.

As dusk began to fall, the soft orange glow of the sunset filtered through the cave, casting dark shadows that danced across the floor. With the light retreating, Eric felt an electric tension in the air, a signal that it was time to act. He could no longer remain in this stasis, caught between the desire to flee and the fascination with the man who lay before him.

Eric made his decision. He slipped deeper into the cave's darkness, a primal instinct guiding his movements. His heart raced with the thrill of impending night, the light fading into shadows.

As soon as the sun sank below the horizon, he seized the moment. The cool evening air beckoned him, promising the freedom of nightfall.

Without a backward glance, he bolted out of the cave, his movements swift and silent. The world outside welcomed him with the crispness of night, the familiar sounds of nocturnal creatures filling the air. But as he disappeared into the deepening shadows, a lingering question echoed in his mind: What would become of the man left behind? Would he rise again, a specter of the darkness Eric had just fled?

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Eric's feet pounded against the rocky terrain as he descended the mountain, the cold air biting at his skin as twilight deepened. His breaths came in ragged gasps, but it wasn't the exertion that strained him—it was the hunger, a gnawing, violent urge that seemed to burn in his veins.He didn't understand ,he had drank already but the hunger again came back.

He hadn't meant to leave the man behind, not when the sight of that stranger's healing body stirred something deep within him. But his own instincts had driven him to run. The need for blood clawed at him, more insistent with every passing second.

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Eric suddenly skidded to a stop, nostrils flaring as the scent hit him. Blood. Fresh, pumping through veins. Alive.

Up ahead, a lone hiker moved along the narrow trail, completely unaware of the predator lurking in the shadows. Desperation clawed at Eric's mind as he stepped into view, his body trembling with hunger. His pale face, streaked with dirt and remnants of blood, looked hollow and starved.

"Help me," Eric croaked, his voice raw with both fear and need. It was a lie, a twisted plea wrapped in his ravenous intent.

The hiker spun around, his heart rate spiking in a sudden rush of terror. His wide eyes landed on Eric—ragged, unhinged, a specter rising from the forest depths. He stumbled backward, eyes darting from Eric's disheveled clothes to the unsettling gleam in his eyes. "W-what?" the hiker stammered, his voice barely a whisper. His hand twitched toward his pack as if some false sense of protection lay inside.

Eric took a staggering step forward, his voice cracking as he whispered, "I'm so hungry."

The hiker froze, confusion and fear mixing in his eyes. But then, horror replaced confusion as he watched the shift—Eric's face contorted, his eyes darkening into pools of red hunger. Black veins erupted under his skin, crawling like sinister roots spreading across his face, warping his appearance into something *inhuman*.

"Stay back!" the hiker gasped, voice breaking, but his legs wouldn't move. His body locked in place by the terror coursing through his veins.

Eric's lips pulled back, revealing his fangs, sharp and gleaming in the dim light. His movements, slow and deliberate, became predatory. "I don't want to hurt you," Eric whispered, though the words were hollow, meaningless. He took another step forward, a predator toying with its prey. His eyes, once red, now burned with a deeper, demonic glow, flickering with the insatiable hunger that surged within him.

The hiker took a shaky step back, his breath coming in ragged gasps, but it was too late. Eric's control had shattered.

"I'm *hungry*," he hissed, the sound more feral than human. His fangs glistened in the moonlight as the black veins pulsed, twisting his face into something monstrous.

The hiker panicked, dropping his pack and turning to flee, but it was too late.

Eric moved with inhuman speed, his body no longer his own. In a blur, he grabbed the man, pulling him into a vice-like grip. The hiker struggled, screaming, but Eric's strength was monstrous, unstoppable.

"I'm sorry," Eric choked out, tears welling in his eyes as he leaned into the man's neck. His fangs pierced the skin with a sickening crunch, and the hot rush of blood filled his mouth.

The world went dark as the frenzy overtook him. The moment his fangs pierced flesh, everything else ceased to matter. His body trembled with raw hunger, desperate to feed. He tore through the man's throat with feral force, feeling the skin split beneath his teeth and warm blood burst forth in a flood. Each frantic gulp sent the thick, metallic liquid coursing down his throat, spurring him deeper into the frenzy.

The hiker's screams quickly became strangled gurgles as the blood filled his lungs, drowning any chance for breath. His body convulsed beneath the predator's grasp, hands weakly clawing at his attacker, but it was no use. Flesh gave way to bone with a sickening crack as he ripped deeper into the man's throat, blood splattering in violent arcs with each brutal tear. The sound of snapping sinew and splintering cartilage echoed in the stillness around them.

The man's strength drained with each passing second, his muscles slackening as his skin turned pale and clammy. But it wasn't enough. He wanted more. Blood painted his hands and face as he bit down again, tearing away chunks of flesh, feeling the warm tissue disintegrate between his teeth. The coppery taste of life ebbed across his tongue, his mouth full of mangled meat. His eyes gleamed in the darkness, fueled by a primal need to consume every last drop.

Even as the hiker's body went limp, the violent feeding didn't stop. He bit and clawed at the corpse, his nails digging into soft, exposed flesh, breaking through bone until his hands were buried deep in the man's chest. Blood spurted in thick, sluggish streams, mixing with the dirt below. He ripped out the heart, its weak pulse still faint beneath his bloodied fingers, and crushed it between his teeth.

The frenzy didn't cease until there was nothing left, leaving the torn remnants of a body soaked in gore and entrails scattered in disarray. Only then, drenched in blood, did he feel the hunger subside, his mind slowly returning from the edge of madness.

Eric sobbed as he fed, the black veins throbbing around his eyes, his crimson gaze wild and unrecognizable. He didn't want this—hadn't wanted to be this monster—but there was no stopping it. Not now.

When the man's body finally fell limp in his arms, Eric collapsed beside him, covered in blood, shaking uncontrollably. He wiped at his face, trying to clear the blood, but it was everywhere. He looked down at the hiker, the life drained from his eyes, and a deep sob tore from his chest.

The hunger was gone, but the guilt weighed heavier than ever.

Eric staggered away from the lifeless body, his heart pounding in his chest as he wiped the blood from his face with trembling hands. He glanced back, the weight of what he had done crashing over him like a wave.

His own clothes were stained and sticky, a grim reminder of his violent hunger. In a daze, he turned back to the hiker's body, driven by a desperate need to conceal his actions. He quickly stripped off the man's jacket and shirt, fumbling with the buttons as adrenaline surged through him. The fabric felt foreign against his skin, but he didn't care—he just needed to hide his filthiness. Although the jacket did little to prevent this ,it was still better than nothing.

As he pulled the clothes over his bloodied form, Eric felt the last remnants of humanity slipping away. He moved further into the shadows, the darkness wrapping around him like a cloak. Each step away from the scene felt like a betrayal, but he couldn't stay. He had to escape.

With every passing moment, the weight of his actions bore down on him. Guilt gnawed at him, mixing with the remnants of the hunger that had driven him to this point. He glanced down at the hiker's clothes, the fabric now marred with dark stains.

Breathing heavily, he plunged deeper into the woods, the shadows swallowing him whole. Each rustle of leaves and snap of twigs underfoot sent adrenaline coursing through him. He was no longer just a man; he had become a monster, haunted by the echoes of his choices.

As he ran, Eric fought back tears, the reality of what he had done pressing heavily on his chest. He was alone now, a predator lost in the dark, desperately searching for a way to reconcile the beast within.

He didn't understand.

'Was this what being a vampire meant?' Was he supposed to feel this insatiable need forever? He had no idea what was normal—no one had told him anything.

Flashes of the past hit him in waves, sharp and disorienting. He hadn't asked for this—he hadn't *wanted* any of it. One moment, he was home with his wife, their laughter filling the small kitchen as they prepared for dinner, and the next, he was being dragged into the night by something inhuman. It had all happened so fast. The attack, the bite—Eric barely remembered fighting back. His world had collapsed in a single heartbeat, his body failing him as darkness swallowed everything.

When he opened his eyes again, it wasn't to the comfort of his home but to the cold, unforgiving mountains, the scent of earth and blood thick in the air. He had been left there—abandoned to whatever he was becoming. His body felt foreign, his senses overwhelming, and the hunger—it was immediate, vicious, consuming every thought.

Now, as the echoes of that night bled into the present, Eric's chest tightened. He wanted to go back to her, to return to his wife, but he knew he couldn't—not like this. The hunger was too powerful, too unpredictable. What if he couldn't control it? What if the next time he fed, it wasn't a stranger, but *her*?

He wiped his bloodied face, his heart heavy with guilt and despair. All he wanted was to be near her again, to hold her in his arms, to tell her everything would be alright. But nothing was alright. He was a monster now, his craving for blood stronger than his love for her. He couldn't trust himself. He *couldn't* go back, not until he understood what he had become.

But the fear gnawed at him—what if he never figured it out? What if he was doomed to this existence, always running, always hungry, never able to return to the life he once had? The thought tore at him as much as the hunger did, an ache that would never be satisfied.

The blood had only fueled the fire inside him, not extinguished it. He had read the stories of the supernatural—stories of vampires who could survive on just a little blood, enough to keep the hunger at bay. But that wasn't him. Whatever he was becoming, it craved more, far beyond what others seemed to need. The thirst gnawed at him, relentless, as if nothing would ever be enough.

But that didn't work for him. He hadn't known restraint was even an option; he thought the only way to stop the burning was to drain someone completely. Yet now, even with the hiker's blood coursing through him, the hunger screamed louder than before.

Eric wiped at his bloodied face, his fingers trembling. His skin itched, a tightness spreading through his body that he didn't understand. Something was changing. He could feel it, a deep, animalistic shift within him, as if the blood he had consumed wasn't enough to keep up with the demands of whatever he was becoming.

He was different—stronger, perhaps, or more cursed. But he didn't know that yet. His body was in the midst of a transformation, something far beyond what ordinary vampires experienced. Unaware, Eric was transitioning into one of the most powerful beings of his kind. What worked for weaker vampires wouldn't satisfy the hunger that gnawed at him. His body craved more—demanded it—relentlessly pushing him toward the violent frenzy that overtook him with increasing frequency.

He was still figuring out what he was, trapped in the confusion of his evolving nature, not yet realizing the immense power growing within him, a power he had no control over yet.