Genshin: Teyvat's Wandering Demon (Rewrite)

-5600 words-

The sun dipped below the horizon, its golden glow fading into deep purples and blues. Night settled over the world like a comforting shroud, wrapping the world in stillness. Tayden exhaled as the last rays of light disappeared, his body instinctively relaxing as the cool darkness took hold.

Finally, he could move freely again. The nightmare before had stopped him from sleeping again, but Klee's sudden appearance had brightened his mood a little. Speaking to that little ball of energy was enough to nearly make him forget about that nightmare.

Being chopped up into multiple pieces by a monstrous samurai. Those eyes that held no life, no malice, no drive. Most of all was the burning.

'The burning, oh god the bur- Nope! Not thinking about that anymore!'

Sitting in his cave had been an option. Waiting for Klee to return with help made sense. But something inside him whispered that he couldn't rely on that. What if she forgets? What if no one believes her? She was still a child after all, even if she had said that she was a knight of some kind, he was still skeptical about taking a child's word for it. 'Sorry Klee, but i need to explore' Sitting still never got anyone anywhere. If he wanted to survive, he had to move.

He stretched, rolling his shoulders, and set out into the night.

The air was crisp, the scent of damp earth and pine filling his senses as he wandered aimlessly through the landscape. He had no real destination just the urge to do something. Anything was better than staying in one spot. He decided to walk down this Stormbearer Mountain as Klee called it, staying up in a mountain definitely didn't do him any good if he wanted to find a village or Mondstadt, wherever that was.

'I should have asked Klee about Mondstadt's direction.' 

There was no use crying over spilt milk so he walked onwards.

Then he saw it.

Embedded into the side of a mountain, a massive stone doorway loomed, its edges glowing faintly with a dim blue light. Tayden slowed his pace, eyes wide as he took in the structure. The stone was ancient, yet untouched by time, its smooth surface free of cracks or wear. Strange, intricate carvings ran along its borders, whispering of something old, something magical.

'Holy shit this is so cool!' 

An old dungeon? A lair for something or someone? He wanted to find out what it was, this was a magical dungeon and he wanted to know what was in it! He stepped closer, mesmerized. It felt… untouched. Forgotten? No, preserved. He reached a hand out, but before his fingers could make contact—

Voices.

His head snapped up, muscles tensing. At first, the voices were so distant they were barely more than whispers carried in the wind, impossible for any normal person to notice. But as he focused, his sharpened senses latched onto them, amplifying every syllable, pulling them in as if they were right beside him.

Multiple voices. Some laughing. Some fearful.

Something was wrong. A feeling of caution appeared within his stomach.

He turned away from the strange doorway, following the sound instead. He knows that the voices are far away, he was only able to hear them with his enhanced senses. With every step closer, the voices grew clearer, and that unsettling feeling in his gut twisted. His instincts screamed that something about this situation wasn't right. He stayed low, the voices were just in front of him now, moving carefully between the trees until he found a hiding spot behind thick bushes.

Through the gaps in the leaves, he saw them.

A group of men gathered around a cage, a large wooden one with a metal lock, set in the middle of a clearing. The firelight from their camp cast long, flickering shadows across the scene. Inside the cage, huddled together, were three figures, a man, a woman, and a child.

'A family.' Tayden realized, as the sickening feeling started to worsen as his heart beat started to pick up.

The man was slumped forward, bruised and battered, while the woman clutched the child and the man protectively, her body curled around them as if to shield them from the world.

Tayden's hands clenched into fists.

The six men surrounding them looked like bandits. One, large and round, carried a shovel over his shoulder, while three others —ordinary-looking but sharp-eyed— had multiple knives glinting on their belts. The last two were positioned on the outskirts of the clearing, crossbows slung across their backs.

The voices became words.

"Think we can get a good price for 'em?" one of the men muttered, crouching near the cage.

"If we don't get a ransom, we sell them off," another responded, shrugging.

The woman tensed, pulling the child closer to her. The man —her husband?— tried to speak, but his voice was too weak to hear.

Tayden's breathing picked up. His heart pounded against his ribs, anger crawling up his spine.

They're selling people? Just like that? His nails dug into his palms, his muscles coiled. His body screamed at him to move, to do something, but he forced himself to wait. Rushing in blindly would be suicide. Even with regeneration, he didn't know to what extent it even went. Could he regenerate limbs? Or was it just limited to injuries like broken bones?

 He needed to think. Plan.

He scanned the clearing, assessing his options. A direct assault? No, he didn't know how to fight, and these men were armed. Maybe he could sneak up on them, take them out one by one? But how? He had strength, sure, but did he have the skill to subdue them quickly? The crossbows posed a huge risk too—if they saw him coming, he'd be an easy target. He could regenerate, sure, but could he regenerate fast enough if they were all to attack him at the same time? How strong were these people? This was a different world and for all he knew, these people could destroy buildings with ease.

His mind raced, considering possibilities. Could he use his environment? The trees, the darkness—those were his advantages. They shouldn't have night vision like he does. He could try creating a distraction, drawing them away one by one. But he didn't know how long the family had. Every second wasted increased the risk of something terrible happening. These men were waiting for something if they had to stop in a forest, waiting for someone. Possibly their allies.

Then his eyes flicked back to the men. Their laughter, their arrogance, the way they treated the people in that cage like objects instead of human beings.

Rage bubbled inside him.

But then—

One of the men walked up to the cage and grinned. The woman shrank back, trembling as he leaned against the bars.

"No, that would bring their prices down. But who knows, our client might let us use them before we sell em off."

Laughter. A few chuckles. A couple of them exchanged glances.

Tayden stopped thinking.

His body moved before he could tell it not to.

—

The bandits were laughing amongst themselves, making crude jokes and discussing the price they could fetch for their captives when a loud crash suddenly shattered the night air. The sound came from behind them, near the treeline, and they looked amongst each other ready to see what made the sound when they realized.

One of their crossbow wielders was gone.

There was no warning, no shout, no sign of a struggle—just an empty space and splatters of blood where he had stood. The remaining bandits whipped their heads around in confusion, their eyes darting wildly in search of their missing companion. The family flinched at the loud noise, but were unable to do anything as they were stuck inside the cage, but the mother clutched her husband and daughter tighter.

"Where did Rich go?!"

A sickening thud drew their attention to the base of a nearby tree. A body lay there, limp and motionless, and… headless. The firelight barely illuminated the scene, but they were still able to see the trail of blood leading away from the body that led to something.

Then they saw him.

Tayden stood among the trees, holding the severed head in one hand, fresh blood flowing from his arm. His breathing was heavy, his fingers twitching slightly as he looked down at what he had done. In his shock, he threw the head away, making it roll in the direction of the other bandits.

That was not what Tayden intended to do. He had only meant to rush in and strike, to knock the man out, not straight up decapitate him! The sheer force behind his attack had ripped the man's head clean off. Though he didn't have anymore time to process it as he looked straight at the other bandits.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then—

"Get him!" one of them screamed.

Panic surged through the group, their hands scrambling to battle the man had attacked them. To Tayden, he was the one in danger, but unknown to him is that his presence alone had made every other person there afraid. It was as if their primitive instincts were screaming at them to run from him, to hide or else they would die. The crossbowman still standing lifted his weapon, snapping out of his terror first, preparing an arrow before he fired.

Tayden was caught off guard by the swooshing sound when the arrow buried itself deep in his shoulder. A sharp, piercing pain exploded from the wound, forcing a strangled scream out of him. His body jerked back slightly from the force, but this only served to anger him as he glared at the shooter.

The shot was all the bandits needed before they rushed him.

Tayden's pupils dilated. He needed to take them out, no time to worry about killing!

The knife-wielders were the closest, moving in tandem to overwhelm him. The first lunged forward, blade glinting, and Tayden swung—a wild, powerful punch aimed at his skull. But the man ducked under it, his years of thievery and crime allowed him to twist his body mid-motion to drive his knife straight into Tayden's throat, trying to kill him as quickly as possible.

Tayden choked as cold steel sank into his flesh, but before the pain could fully register— Two more blades slashed at him from either side. "Fuck!"

A deep cut tore across his ribs. Another blade stabbed into his back. The pain was intense, but something was wrong. The bandits hesitated. Their knives weren't coming free. It was like their weapons suddenly hit something harder than human flesh and bone, as if they were hitting at metal. They tugged, trying to yank their weapons out, but it was as if Tayden's flesh had clamped down on the blades, refusing to let go. They were stuck.

They turned to look at Tayden who glared at them with such intensity that made them freeze. He swung his arm outward in a wide, sweeping motion, and the three men —still clutching their weapons— tried to block but were lifted off their feet and sent hurtling through the air. They crashed hard into the dirt, rolling and screaming in pain. The hit had sent them flying and the force broke the arms they had tried to block with.

The largest bandit, the one wielding the shovel, took this as his chance. With a roar, he charged in, swinging the heavy weapon with both hands in an attempt to cave Tayden's skull in before he could recover.

Tayden caught it.

One hand. Mid-swing. The shovel stopped instantly.

The man's grin of triumph vanished as he locked eyes with Tayden. His eyes were red, glowing in the night and staring right into his soul. 

"W-What the hell are you—?"

Tayden ripped the shovel aside and delivered a vicious uppercut, his fist slamming into the bandit's jaw with a sickening crack. Flesh tore and bone shattered instantly. The sheer force lifted the man off the ground, sending him stumbling backward, a garbled scream of pain escaping his mangled mouth. Blood was flowing out of where used to be the man's jaw.

The others froze, watching in stunned horror as their strongest fighter collapsed to his knees, clutching his ruined face, blood pouring between his fingers as he let out a strangled gurgle of pain. His eyes were wide with shock, unable to even scream properly, his body shaking violently.

One of the knife-wielders, still sprawled on the ground from being thrown, stared in disbelief. "He broke his jaw!"

"Screw this! Where the hell did he come from?!" one of them shouted, scrambling backward in pure terror.

But it wasn't just the bandits who were horrified.

Inside the cage, the family huddled closer together, eyes locked on Tayden with a mixture of shock and deep, primal fear. The mother clutched her child so tightly that the little girl whimpered, but she never tore her gaze away from the man outside.

The father, battered and bruised, struggled to sit upright, trying to understand what he was witnessing. He was tired and bruised, but staring at this man or whatever he was, instantly brought him to high alert. They were about to be sold off to who knows where and then this thing appeared and starts fighting the Treasure Hoarders. But what scared him was the possibility that this man wouldn't be there to save them.

Squelch. A wet, sickening sound filled the air, like raw meat being torn apart and mashed together all at once. It was a grotesque sound, and when they looked at Tayden, his flesh looked like it was bubbling around where they had stabbed him. The knives embedded in Tayden's flesh started falling out. The wounds they had left behind sealed shut, smooth skin returning where deep gashes had once been, leaving only splatters of blood from wounds that have healed.

The remaining crossbowman shakily reloaded his weapon, his hands trembling as he raised it once more.

The arrow flew.

Tayden's hand snatched it mid-flight.

Tayden gripped the arrow tightly before hurling it forward at the man. He barely had time to react before the projectile shot through his shoulder, punching through flesh and sending him staggering backward with a choked scream. Desperation took over as he fumbled to reload, fingers shaking violently, breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps.

Then Tayden vanished.

The man barely had time to process what was happening before an unbearable pain ignited in his stomach."Gahk!-" He gasped, eyes bulging as he looked down. A hand had pierced straight through his abdomen, fingers twitching against the torn muscle and flesh inside him. 

His trembling gaze met Tayden's, and what he saw sent a wave of pure, unfiltered terror coursing through him. A grin. Not just any grin, a twisted, euphoric smile, stretched too wide, filled with unfiltered glee.

Tayden's fingers flexed inside the man's gut before he ripped his arm upward.

A sound like tearing fabric soaked in blood filled the air as the bandit's torso split in two. His upper body separated into two pieces in a grotesque display. His remains crumpled to the ground, his organs spilling onto the dirt like discarded waste.

A heavy silence followed. The crackling fire was the only sound, its flickering flames casting eerie shadows over the carnage.

Tayden turned his gaze to the remaining bandits, his breath heavy, his pupils dilated, his body thrumming with an unnatural energy. He could feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears, an intoxicating rhythm in sync with the scent of blood saturating the air. The blood smelled amazing, he wanted more of it. His fingers flexed, still coated in the sticky warmth of life recently drained.

The last three knife-wielders didn't even see him move.

In the blink of an eye, Tayden was upon them.

They barely had time to scream before their heads were torn clean off. Flesh, muscle, and bone ripped apart effortlessly, their lifeless bodies slumping to the ground in a synchronized chorus of dull, final thuds. The sheer force of the decapitations sent their heads rolling, leaving behind streaks of crimson in the dirt.

The only survivor was the shovel-wielding bandit, the one whose jaw Tayden had shattered earlier. He was already fleeing, stumbling over his own feet, running as fast as his broken body could manage. 

'Coward.'

Somehow, this was able to make Tayden regain his sense of self and stared in rage at the fleeing man. This wretched man, this spineless predator, had been so eager to inflict suffering on the weak. He had taken pleasure in their pain, had laughed as he planned their futures as prisoners, as objects to be sold. And now? Now, when faced with true power, he ran?

Disgust burned in Tayden's chest. His rage surged forward, overpowering his instincts, demanding retribution. In the time it took for the bandit to blink, Tayden appeared in front of him.

The man's breath caught in his throat. His mangled jaw trembled, struggling to form words, to beg, to plead, to say anything that might spare him from the thing before him.

Tayden's expression was unreadable, his crimson eyes gleaming in the dim moonlight. He saw the pathetic remnants of the man's face twitching, his throat gurgling half-formed sounds of surrender.

'Pathetic.'

He kicked the bandit's ribs, and the impact sent him flying through the air before slamming into a tree with a deafening crack. The sheer force of the blow splintered the bark, and the man's body bounced off the trunk, landing limply on the ground. He twitched, struggling to lift his head, to move, but nothing worked.

As Tayden approached, his steps slow, the bandit's eyes widened in terror. He couldn't run. He couldn't speak. He could barely even breathe. His entire body trembled as he watched the figure before him, the thing before him, close the distance with an eerie calmness.

A deep, primal fear gripped the man's soul. He was no longer looking at another human being. He was looking at a demon.

The last thing he saw was Tayden's shadow looming over him, swallowing the light of the moon.

Then—

Nothing.

—

The cage was silent, save for the unsteady breathing of its three occupants. Donna held Diane close, her arms wrapped tightly around the small girl as if shielding her from something unseen. Jonas sat still for a long moment, eyes darting around the darkened clearing, taking in the sudden absence of noise. No more laughing. No more shouts. Just an eerie, deafening silence.

Jonas shifted, letting out a quiet grunt as he forced himself onto his feet. His ribs ached, his muscles burned from the beating he had taken earlier, but he needed to move. Donna reached out to grab his arm.

"Jonas, wait," she whispered, her voice laced with fear.

He turned to her and forced a small smile. "It's okay. It doesn't hurt as much anymore," he lied, voice steady. It was more for her sake than his. Diane's small hands clutched at her mother's dress, her wide eyes filled with confusion and fear.

Jonas exhaled slowly and moved toward the lock. He tugged at it, hoping somehow it had been damaged in the commotion, but it remained firm, cold, and unyielding. His fingers curled into fists. "We'll have to break through the wood," he murmured, inspecting the frame. "If we all—"

Footsteps.

The sound sent a chill down his spine. Slow, deliberate steps, crunching against the dirt and leaves. Donna's grip on Diane tightened, and the child whimpered softly. Jonas turned toward the sound, and the sight that met him made his breath hitch in his throat. He came back, the man that killed all of the Treasure Hoarders.

Blood. So much blood. It dripped from his arms, stained his clothes, clung to his skin like a second layer. And yet… he had no visible injuries. Not a single wound, not a single mark to show that he had even been in a fight.

Jonas' body tensed, every muscle screaming at him to run, but there was nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. He forced himself to stand taller, placing himself in front of Donna and Diane as Tayden drew closer.

The air felt heavier, as Tayden stopped just inches from the cage. His presence alone made Jonas' instincts scream in warning, something primal within him recoiling. But after witnessing the sheer carnage left behind, that fear turned into horror.

His wife trembled behind him, Diane burying her face in her mother's dress. Jonas swallowed, his throat dry as he met Tayden's unreadable gaze. The man before them, if he could even be called that, had just slaughtered an entire group of armed criminals as if they were nothing.

And now, he was standing before them.

Jonas' hands clenched at his sides, his body shielding his family as best as he could.

…

Tayden exhaled slowly, his eyes flickering between the terrified family and the locked cage. 'Alright so now how do I break this cage without accidentally hurting the family?' He knelt down, gripping the wooden bars and, with a single pull, tore the lock apart. The sharp snap of wood and metal breaking echoed through the silence. 'That should do it'

Jonas flinched, pulling his wife and daughter closer, still expecting the worst.

But Tayden just stepped back.

The family didn't move.

Seconds passed in tense, suffocating silence. The reality that they were free hadn't set in yet. More importantly, the reality that this man wasn't killing them made their limbs freeze in uncertainty. Jonas' breath came in shallow, uneven waves, Donna's hands clung to Diane tighter, and the little girl refused to lift her head.

The silence stretched, thick with unspoken fear. For Tayden, it was awkward. For the family, it was terrifying. They weren't sure if he was just toying with them for some reason, he didn't have any identification and wore weird clothing. They had no idea what faction, belief, or nation he belonged to.

Tayden cleared his throat, shifting slightly before finally speaking. "Are you... alright?" His voice actually sounded normal, much to the family's surprise.

No response.

He frowned slightly, then gestured vaguely at Jonas. "Your injuries. Are they bad? Do you need help moving?"

That was what finally snapped Jonas out of his daze. His breath hitched as he processed the question, his mind catching up to the moment. Donna gasped quietly, and Diane peeked up at Tayden through tear-filled eyes. The realization hit them all at once. 

He had saved them.

Slowly, they made their way out of the cage. Donna making sure to put Diane behind her at all times. Once they were out, they were once again at a loss for words. They were grateful, definitely, but something about their saviour made them freeze up.

Tayden stood still, his posture eerily relaxed despite the blood that covered him from head to toe. His presence alone weighed on them, the lingering scent of death heavy in the air. Suddenly, he turned his head sharply at the darkened treeline, making the family flinch.

'Ok those aren't the sound of footsteps' Tayden thought that more bandits would definitely show up. Just being in this clearing is making him feel too paranoid, he was fine with taking on more bandits but he didn't know if he could protect the family at the same time. He turned to look back at the husband, Jonas, if he heard correctly. The man tensed up at his gaze.

'Ok I get that you went through a traumatizing experience but please say something…'

The man just continued to stare at him so Tayden relented. "More of them might be coming." His voice, calm and even, broke the suffocating silence. "We should go somewhere safe" 

Jonas hesitated, weighing his options. He could just go back to the village alone, he definitely remembers the path back. But if he was right and more Treasure Hoarders appeared, what could he do to defend himself? How would he defend his family? He decided that going with the man covered in blood is better than being kidnapped again by Treasure Hoarders, he prayed to Barbatos that Tayden was actually sincere in helping them. 

"T-the village isn't that far away, but It's hard to find the road because of the dark."

Tayden remained silent for a moment, turning over his options in his mind. He could take them to his cave, where he knew the surroundings, where he could keep them away from any potential pursuers. But that meant keeping them in an unfamiliar place, in his presence, which clearly terrified them. For all he knew, they could start thinking that he would eat them. Which he wouldn't. Now that he thought about it, he was extremely hungry right now. He has been constantly hungry the moment he got here but now it's far more intense. Soo hungry- Nope he had to snap out of it! The cave was a no go so what was the next option?

Escort them back to their village. That was safer for them, at least. The thought of entering a populated area made him uneasy, especially with him being an outsider whilst also being completely covered head to toe in blood. But going to a village could give him some answers he was looking for.

After a brief hesitation, he exhaled and made his decision. "I can take you back to your village," he said finally. "I'll make sure you get there safely." He tried to give them a comforting smile, hoping that it would calm them down.

The words had barely left his mouth when Donna suddenly let out a loud, choked sob. The sound cut through the silence, making everyone flinch.

Jonas turned to her in concern, but Donna only clung tighter to Diane, her body shaking as relief overwhelmed her. She sobbed uncontrollably, her grip on her daughter tightening as if afraid she might vanish if she let go.

"T-Thank you!" she gasped, her voice trembling with emotion. "Thank you for saving us, for everything!"

Her words came out between choked breaths, the weight of their situation crashing down on her all at once. The nightmare was finally over. The fear of losing her husband, of having her child taken from her, of facing an uncertain and terrifying fate—it had all been moments away from reality. And yet, against all odds, they had been saved. By someone she did not understand.

Jonas placed his arms around his wife and daughter, his own breath still unsteady. "It's alright, Donna. We're safe now."

Diane, small and still shaken, clung to her mother's waist but peeked up at Tayden with wide, teary eyes. She didn't speak, but her gaze lingered on him—part gratitude, part uncertainty. He had saved them, yet everything about him still felt overwhelming to a child like her.

Tayden blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Gratitude. That wasn't something he had been expecting. Not after everything they had just witnessed. He had thought their fear would linger, that they would hesitate to even look at him. But here she was, openly thanking him, her emotions raw and unfiltered.

His fingers twitched at his sides as he shifted uncomfortably under their gaze. "It's no problem," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, the words feeling strange in his mouth. "But we should get moving before anything else happens."

…

Tayden crouched down and pulled out a small roll of bandages from the bag he had taken from the Treasure Hoarders. He tossed it toward Jonas, who barely caught it with his tired hands.

"Here. Wrap your wounds properly before you bleed out on the way back," Tayden said, his tone neutral but firm.

Jonas looked down at the bandages, then back up at Tayden with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. "You… got this from them?" he asked, wincing slightly as he shifted his weight.

"Yeah. Now I know what they were called, thanks to you," Tayden replied, glancing back toward the clearing they had left behind. They were a short distance away now, far enough that the corpses weren't in view, but Jonas was clearly struggling to keep walking.

Donna helped support her husband, but his injuries were weighing him down heavily. He tried to unwrap the bandages, but his hands were shaking too much from exhaustion.

"Here, let me do it," Donna said softly, taking the roll from him and starting to wrap his arm with delicate care.

Jonas, still focused on Tayden, noticed that despite all the blood on him, he didn't seem to be treating any of his own injuries. "Do you need any? You're covered in blood, you might be hurt more than you think."

Tayden shook his head. "I don't need them. I'll be fine."

Jonas frowned but didn't argue. Something about the way Tayden said it left no room for discussion. That and the fact that he had seen him freaking renegerate his wounds when fighting the hoarders. He wasn't just refusing help, he genuinely didn't need it. That thought was unsettling, but after everything they had seen, he decided not to press the issue.

Tayden took a step back, his gaze shifting toward the direction of the clearing. "I'm heading back for a moment. There might be more supplies left in their bags, and I want to make sure they don't have anything useful. You stay put."

Jonas stiffened, then nodded. "Alright… just be careful."

Tayden smirked faintly at that, though there was no humor in it. "I don't think I'm the one who needs to be careful."

Without another word, he turned and started walking back toward the blood-soaked clearing, leaving Jonas and his family behind to tend to their wounds and gather their strength.

…

Tayden stood motionless in the clearing, his eyes locked onto the lifeless body sprawled before him. The bandit's form was twisted at an unnatural angle, his head barely attached by strands of sinew and flesh. Blood pooled beneath him, the scent thick and metallic in the air. It should have been repulsive.

But Tayden couldn't look away.

His stomach twisted, an uncomfortable pressure building deep within his gut. Then, it rumbled.

Hunger.

A need so sharp, so primal, it sank its claws into his very soul. It wasn't the dull ache of missing a few meals—it was something deeper, an emptiness that demanded to be filled. His breath grew shallow. He swallowed, his throat dry, his mind swimming with something he couldn't quite grasp. He wasn't thinking anymore. Just… reacting. Instinct took over, drowning out logic, washing away revulsion.

Before he knew it, he was kneeling. His fingers twitched as they reached out, his bloodstained hands pressing against the corpse's still-warm skin. There was no hesitation. No disgust. Just hunger.

His head dipped down.

Then—

Tearing.

The first bite sent a violent shock through his body. His teeth sank effortlessly into flesh, splitting it apart like softened fruit. Warm blood coated his tongue, the taste unlike anything he had ever known—coppery, rich, intoxicating.

Another bite.

His jaw moved on its own, chewing, swallowing. The sinew stretched, muscles breaking apart between his teeth as warmth flooded his veins. He could feel it. The energy pouring into him, filling the void, satisfying that deep, gnawing emptiness inside his core. 

Another bite. Then another.

The hunger deepened.

His hands clawed deeper into the body, gripping, tearing, consuming. Each mouthful sent another surge of energy through him, more vitality, more power. His breaths came faster, heavy, almost animalistic. He didn't stop. Couldn't stop. The corpse beneath him shrank with each greedy mouthful, his fingers digging past skin and bone, finding the marrow, the core of life itself.

Something warm dripped down his chin.

His mind was blank, lost in the sheer, overwhelming satisfaction of it all.

By the time the rush started to fade, his hands were coated in crimson. The body beneath him was unrecognizable, reduced to nothing but bits of shredded flesh and exposed bone.

His breathing slowed.

His fingers twitched, curled into the blood-soaked dirt. His mouth was wet, slick with something thick, something warm. Slowly, his vision cleared, the fog lifting just enough for him to realize.

He stared down at the mangled remains. His heart stopped.

His stomach twisted again, but this time, not from hunger.

From horror.

Or at least, he thought it should be horror.

Yet, as he gazed at the disfigured corpse, at the blood that soaked his hands, at the torn flesh and exposed bone, he felt… nothing. No disgust. No revulsion. No guilt. Just a strange, unsettling emptiness.

Shouldn't he be horrified? Shouldn't he be sickened by what he had done? But there was nothing. Just the dull awareness that he had eaten another human being. His hands flexed, the blood beginning to dry against his skin. The sticky warmth on his lips lingered, a reminder of what he had done, but he didn't want to dwell on it. Not now.

With a sharp exhale, he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, smearing the crimson further. His body still thrummed with energy, but he ignored it, pushing the sensation down, burying it.He turned away from the corpse and started walking back toward the family. There was no point in thinking about it now. He had done what his body demanded.

And that was all there was to it.