:x: Trigger Warning: Blood, Canablism, Murder :x:
Italisized is thought
Regular text is Rosalie
Bold is Raphael
Chapter 1: Out For A Walk
The branches slide past my face giving me little cuts on my cheeks and arms as my speed increases.
“I can go faster, push harder.”
I think to myself as my feet move quicker along the forest bed filled with grass and tipped over trees from past storms. Another branch whips my forehead and I can feel blood drip before being absorbed back into my skin and my cut seals back shut. Reaching the river I stop just on the ledge, as a couple pebbles bounce off my boot into the water. Looking at my watch I huff a little bit.
“Shit” I say seeing my stopwatch tick to 1:10. “10 seconds to slow.” I take a seat on the small rocks and pull my long, deep red braid over my shoulder as I take a moment to enjoy the sights. For the last couple months I have been trying to push myself to make the 6 mile run to the river from my house in one minute or less. I can hit 300 miles per hour easily but this elusive 350 has evaded me since I started training a month ago.
The breeze tosses my bangs out of my eyes which gleam like blood in the sunlight. I never go into town without my s but that’s why I love these runs so much. Out here at my little spot by the river I can just relax as myself. Slowly I unbraid my waist long, wavy hair and rest my arms on my knees. It’s always so peaceful here watching the water by. Sometimes I even like to come down here and write in my journal and get all these heightened emotions out of my head. All I could think was how great this day has been when a pungent smell touches my nose. The smell of death, not just death but blood, tons of it. I freeze in my spot as I take another inhale of the intoxicating aroma.
I need to get out of here. Anything with this much blood will make me too hungry but I have to know where it's coming from. I start taking in the scent and move towards where I sense it’s the strongest. Soon I see a man lodged onto a tree branch a few feet above the ground, well a torso of a man that is. Where is the rest of him? I start to step more carefully making sure if whatever did this is still here I don’t alert them.
Soon I see a campsite but there is stuff, food, bedding, supplies everywhere and drenched in blood. Everything was covered in it along with various body parts lying about but I couldn’t see a single intact body but what happened to the rest of their limbs, their heads?
“This was worth the wait” I had been waiting by a small parking lot in this giant national park for 2 days waiting for campers to stay the night. I rip off another piece of meat from the limb in my hand. The small caliber gunshot wound in my chest had already healed over. I looked over my shoulder at the man who had come out of one of the tents and shot him. Well what was left of him. I had chewed off his arm with the gun then his head. “Brave, but stupid.” I was hoping to enjoy this fire and my meal for a little while before finding their keys and off it is to the next national park to feed. I had already heard about the so-called bear attacks from the rangers. Less campers are farther and few between now. “This is getting old, and you know it is.” I say into the fire. Was it the 70s i started talking to myself, or was it the 20s? It's been so long now I can't . But as I’m about to take another bite, I smell something. Something different, and close. How were they so close already? I take another bite but stay calm, I want to wait and see if they get closer.
I hear someone talking but where? I take a couple steps around the tent tattered from what looks like a bear attack but a bear wouldn’t cause this much damage and it wouldn't eat a human as that's the only explanation I can find for the missing body parts. Just as that thought crosses my mind I hear the crackle of a campfire and I look to find it when I find a man sitting in front of the flames.
Something is coming around the corner soon. I prepare myself for a fight but maybe another meal too. But I can’t tell what they are, but I can tell one thing: they use strawberry shampoo. The tips of my fingers turn into black claws as they step around some tents behind me. “I can smell you.”
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