The strongest emotion Maya could remember was confusion. Confusion and Hunger. She had died.

Then she wasn’t dead. Her world had been turned upside down and she had run away home as if the
sanctuary of the familiar could make all the bad things go away. And the Hunger persisted, until it
was all she could think about.

She’d had to get out of the house, away from the throbbing pulses of her family and the life-giving
blood that lay beneath, but her sister had followed.

Kitty. Maya always sighed when she thought of her. The two of them identical in so many ways, until
the night that changed everything. Happy childhood memories tainted by shadows of shame, with
regret, and mourning.

Maya…no, not Maya… Faith – she had been called Faith then – had walked hastily away, so hastily
that Kit had to run to keep up, into the forest, getting as far away from humans – prey – as possible.
Or so she thought. She swung around as she heard Kit – prey – stumbling to catch up with her. Kit –
prey – stared at her sister with concern, “Tell me what’s wrong. Tell me what happened at that
house. Tell me why you came running back here and haven’t been able to be in the same room as us
for more than five minutes.”

Faith stared at her – prey –, lost and alone and unable to voice the horrors that she had suffered or
the horrors that she felt compelled to commit.

“I…”

But she was cut off by a man – prey – tripping into the clearing. Faith cursed herself for not
remembering this was used as a shortcut home. Walter Cole – prey. An arrogant young man who
was regularly getting into brawls with men around the village; usually after leering at their wives.
Every young girl had been warned to keep their distance from him. He stopped short at the sight of
Faith and Kit – prey –, who had frozen in the middle of whatever revelation was going to happen as
soon as he – prey – appeared. Walter – prey – grinned widely at the two of them in a way that
caused them to huddle together and shrink away. He – prey – stepped forward, confident, self-
assured that this encounter was going to go his way. He reached out for Kit – prey – and stroked her
face as she stood stock still, unable to turn away.

He – prey – grabbed roughly at her arm and the spell was broken. She – prey – screeched wordlessly
and tried to break free from his grip. That sound broke something in Faith. The dam of viciousness
and Hunger found an outlet in protecting her sister. She switched. She attacked.

The details of the attack were fuzzy. All Faith knew was it was frenzied and messy and over too soon.
She had never felt so powerful, but she knew, instinctively, that this one attack would never be
enough. When the frenzy of viciousness had calmed within her, she remembered herself and turned
to look up at Kit’s face which, until so recently, had been the very mirror of her own, now with terror
and disgust etched in every feature.

It was that look that Maya carried with her. It was the memory of that look that had reminded her
on so many occasions why she resisted the Hunger, why she could not give in.

………………

Maya looked up from her reverie to find that she reached her flat. She put her head against the door
and whispered, “Walter Cole”; and odious man who did not deserve what had happened to him. She
sighed and put her key in the door. It had been a while since she dredged up those memories.
Tonight would bse a night to eat chocolate, curl up under the duvet, and listen to the radio to drown
out her own thoughts.