Found. Morgan Rice

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      “Don’t you dare touch my wolf,” Scarlet snarled back at the man.

      “I’m… sorry,” the man said, arm shaking in pain, eyes wide with fear.

      Finally, Scarlet released her grip, and hurried away from the stand, Ruth by her side. As she hurried to get as far away as she could, she heard a whistling behind her, then frantic shouts for guards to come.

      “Let’s go, Ruth!” Scarlet said, and the two of them hurried off down the alleyway, getting lost in the crowd. At least Ruth had eaten.

      But Scarlet’s own hunger was overwhelming, and she didn’t know if she could contain it any longer. She didn’t know what was happening to her, but as they walked down street after street, she found herself examining people’s throats. She zoomed in on their veins, saw the blood pulsing. She found herself licking her lips, wanting – needing – to sink her teeth in. She craved the idea of drinking their blood, and found herself imagining what it would feel like when the blood poured down her throat. She didn’t understand. Was she even human anymore? Was she becoming a wild animal?

      Scarlet didn’t want to hurt anyone. Rationally, she tried to stop herself.

      But physically, something was taking over her. It was rising, from her toes, her legs, through her torso, to the crown of her head and to the tips of her fingers. It was a desire. An unstoppable, unquenchable desire. It was overwhelming her thoughts, telling her what to think, how to act.

      Suddenly, Scarlet detected something: in the distance, somewhere behind her, a group of Roman soldiers were chasing after her. Her new, hyper-sensitive hearing alerted her to the sound of their sandals slapping on the stone. She already knew, even though they were blocks away.

      The sound of their sandals slapping against the stone only irritated her further; the noise mingled in her head with the sound of the vendors’ screaming, the children laughing, the dogs barking… It was all becoming too much for her. Her hearing was becoming too intense, and she was too annoyed by the cacophony of noise. The sun, too, was feeling stronger, as if it were bearing down just on her. It was all too much. She felt as if she were under the microscope of the world, and about to explode.

      Suddenly, Scarlet leaned back, overflowing with rage, and felt a new sensation in her teeth. She felt her two incisor teeth expand, felt long, sharp fangs growing, protruding from them. She hardly knew what the feeling was, but she knew she was changing, into something she could hardly recognize or control. She suddenly spotted a large, fat, drunk man, stumbling through the alley. Scarlet knew that she either had to feed, or to die herself. And something inside of her wanted to survive.

      Scarlet heard herself snarling, and was shocked. The noise, so primal, stunned even her. She felt as if she were outside her body as she pounced, leapt through the air, right for the man. She watched in slow motion as he turned to her, eyes open wide in fear. She felt her two front teeth sinking into his flesh, into the veins on his throat. And a moment later, she felt his hot blood pouring into her throat, filling her veins.

      She heard the man scream, just for a moment. Because a second later, he was collapsed, on the ground, she on top of him, sucking out all of his blood. Slowly, she began to feel a new life, a new energy, infusing her body.

      She wanted to stop feeding, to let this man go. But she couldn’t. She needed this. She needed to survive.

      She needed to feed.

      Chapter Six

      Sam sprinted through the alleys of Jerusalem, snarling, red with rage. He wanted to destroy, to tear apart everything in sight. As he ran past a row of vendors, he reached out and swiped their booths, knocking them over like dominoes. He bumped people deliberately, as hard as he could, sending them flying every which way. He was like a wrecking ball, out of control, hurling down the alley, knocking over everything in his way.

      Chaos ensued; cries rose up. People began to take notice and started to flee, to jump out of his way. He was like a freight train of destruction.

      The sun was driving him crazy. It beat down on his head like a living thing, filling him with more and more rage. He had never known what true rage was until now. Nothing seemed to satisfy him.

      He saw a tall, thin man and he dove for him, sinking his fangs into his neck. He did this in a split second, sucking out the blood, then hurried on, sinking his fangs into another person’s neck. He went from person to person, sinking his fangs and sucking the blood. He moved so fast, none of them had time to react. They all slumped to the floor, one after the other, and he left a trail in his wake. He was in a feeding frenzy, and he felt his body begin to swell with their blood. Still, it was not enough.

      The sun was driving him to the brink of insanity. He needed shade, and he needed it fast. He spotted a large building in the distance, a formal, elaborate palace, built of limestone, with pillars and huge arched doors. Without thinking, he burst across the square and charged it, kicking open the doors.

      It was cooler in here, and finally, Sam could breathe again. Just getting the sun off his head made a difference. He was able to open his eyes, and slowly, they adjusted.

      Staring back at Sam were the startled faces of dozens of people. Most sat inside small pools, individual baths, while others walked around, barefoot on the stone floor. They were all naked. That was when Sam realized: he was inside a bathhouse. A Roman bathhouse.

      The ceilings were high and arched, letting in the light, and there were large arched columns all throughout. The floors were a shining marble, and small pools filled the vast room. People lazed about, apparently relaxing.

      That is, until they saw. They quickly sat up, and their expressions morphed to fear.

      Sam hated the sight of these people – these lazy, rich people, lounging about as if they hadn’t a care in the world. He would make them all pay. He threw his head back and roared.

      Most of the crowd had the good sense to scurry out of there, to hurry to grab their towels and robes and to try to get out as soon as they could.

      But they didn’t stand a chance. Sam hurled forward, lunged for the closest one, and sunk his teeth into her neck. He sucked the blood out and she collapsed to the ground and rolled into a bath, staining it red.

      He did this again and again, jumping from one victim to the next, men and women alike. Soon the bathhouse filled with corpses, bodies floating everywhere, all the pools stained red.

      There was a sudden crash at the door, and Sam wheeled to see what it was.

      There, filling the doorway, were dozens of Roman soldiers. They wore official uniforms – short tunics, roman sandals, feathered helmets – and held shields and short swords. Several more held bows and arrows. They pulled them back and took aim at Sam.

      “Stay where you are!” the leader yelled.

      Sam snarled as he turned, rose to his full height, and began walking towards them.

      The fire came. Dozens of arrows went hurling through the air, right for him. Sam could see them in slow motion, glistening, their silver tips heading right for him.

      But he was faster even than their arrows. Before they could reach him, he was already high up in the air, leaping, somersaulting over them all. He easily covered the span of the entire room – forty feet – before the archers even relaxed their hands.

      Sam came down feet first, kicking the center one right in the chest with such force that he knocked СКАЧАТЬ