The disgusting dog form before her was a pitiful guide, its speed meaning virtually nothing compared to hers as it was now. Her eyes were glazed over, her thoughts systematic to a degree that scared her deep down. She could smell the human, and though this track she’d set herself on was deeper in fae territory, she didn’t care since it meant she was offered a man meant to be cursed in such lands anyway. If anything, she was doing him a service. Death was better than being snared in the lies of a fae. She brandished her blade with a sort of readiness a predator would have. Her feet hardly touched the ground. She was pushing her own power, all because she was this mindlessly hungry.

“Here, Master Jinni! Here is the boy!” called Grunt in his raspy voice, but all his cry did was alert the silhouette she approached of their presence. She let off a hiss of disappointment, but what came next cut the hiss short. The boy was an average frail one, and in the dim light he held no remarkable features. In his shock and defense, a sudden twirl and groan of metal came from his hand, suddenly brandishing a curly silver sword that made Grunt screech in fear. “Silver! The boy has silver! It smells so foul! When did he get so much silver? I thought he only had a blade like you!”

Vera couldn’t stop her own speed, holding out the little knife, crashing into the boy’s blade. He stood strong, grunting at her strength, but retaining his own stance despite being slid back several yards. She struggled to keep integrity against the large blade, forcing her knife to hold its own against the opponent before her velocity became manageable. She kicked against the boy’s side, launching him back and pushing herself away from the target to understand what just happened. Grunt was apparently more shocked than her, running off in abandon of his new so-called master. As Vera twisted to see Grunt abscond, she managed to only witness his form obscured by the boy’s and his silver, a smatter of blood staining a nearby tree while the life of Grunt faded. A gross noise sounded as the human pulled his sword from the corpse, drying it off in the grass. He still seemed fearful, but he still spoke.

“He charmed you. Are you okay?” He tried to take a step towards her, then hesitated. He seemed confused. “He tricked a Jinni?”

Vera felt what little pride she had suddenly take a hit with that. She felt the words sting her. “He didn’t trick me. He told me there was a human. But you’re…”

“I was getting rid of the bad faeries, and he got away, but I didn’t think he’d bring a jinni--” He pleaded, adding a bit oddly; “I-I’m human!”

Vera still wanted to kill him. If he really was a nobody, he’d still not be missed, and he’d still be delicious. But, looking to his silver blade versus her now broken knife, she knew it was a stupid battle. Her entire spirit burned with rage, and the air around her shuddered to simply be so near. She wasn’t lied to -- but she was too weak and hungry to put up a proper fight. And that… That enraged her and broke her heart at the same time. The human before her was so uncertain, but perfectly able to defend himself. She clutched the handle of her knife. She felt nothing but anger and sorrow.

“P-please, simply go on your way!” The human pleaded. He still thought she was a real opponent equal to him. She wished she was. She wished she was more. Her muscles screamed to rip him to shreds. Her tiredness fought it, simply weakly declining her own desires, sending her into a fit of despair she felt so often, but never so intensely.

“Y...ou…” She growled out. Tears were falling. With what energy she had, she threw the heavily grated and useless piece of metal she had at his head, wishing, praying it would knock him out. But it didn’t. It simply scraped his cheek up, leaving him to curl into a flinch and not look back up. While he failed to look, she shot off.

She’d never felt more hungry in her entire existence. Her body screamed for something, anything, to eat, she was hungry, hungry, hungry, so hungry, it hurt, it hurt, it hurt, and without knowing it she’d found herself in a graveyard in the southside of Nostel. Her frail body left the air she floated in, tumbling down, to the dusty ground, and into a gravestone of some nobody she might have met and might not. She stayed immobile on the ground, letting the silence of the night attempt to assuage her. But nothing felt right. Her body -- no, her spirit itself revolted against the way fate had dealt its hand tonight. She wanted to cry. And she wanted to kill. But she couldn’t afford either action. She sat up shakily, digging her nails into her hair, scratching her head in a maniac’s rage.

Why.

Whywhywhy was she so weak?

She was so weak, because she couldn’t eat anything.

She couldn’t eat anything because she was so weak!

She was weak! She was angry! She was sad!

She wanted to die!

But dying was so brutally hard, and she had TRIED.

She had been living for one hundred and fifty-odd years and she’d been hunted for just about a hundred of those!

She’d been nearly killed more times than she could remember!

But each time, she didn’t DIE.

She LIVED.

So often she couldn’t eat, and when she was certain she’d die of starvation, she LIVED.

She tried to let herself get hit by a car! She LIVED.

She tried to hang herself! Her human form gave up and she turned into a cat and LIVED.

She was hungry. Every day was punctuated with HUNGER.

Every night was introduced with HUNGER.

And if it wasn’t dying that her HUNGER put her at risk for, it was the suspicion by the Janns she would stir up when she did eat!

It was the PAIN when she failed to DIE.

She let off a curdled wail, her body curling up in hopes to alleviate the pain. It didn’t alleviate anything. Her suffering only grew; her rejection of her own self only grew; and her wail grew into a scream that lasted until she was out of breath and close to losing consciousness. Her stomach hurt. It hurt. It hurt. Vera felt wind picking up around her, but she didn’t care! Maybe it was a tornado that would tear her to bits, and she’d finally know the relief of death! The earth around her rumbled, but she gripped her head with nails dug into her skin, blood trailing through her fingers and hair with an uncomfortable wetness that only enraged her further. Every year since she’d begun living was horrendous, and anything possible she could do right now to satisfy this unearthed desire to DIE that had never been felt so strongly before that she simply couldn’t snap herself out of it.

The only thing that was about to snap her out of it was the scent of unearthed flesh. Her unearthed desire to die faded, and she froze. Her hands slowly slid out of her hair. She sat up, head feeling light, senses taunted with this sudden scent. A full radius around her exhumed the ground of at least thirty graves, all their caskets broken open like something had just shaved them off. Some were completely inedible -- others seemed so fresh it drove her mad.

But right now, she didn’t have to go mad.

These bodies were right here. For her.

She could eat.

That was all she felt.

Eat.

She thought nothing else.

When her stomach was full, her senses returned fully. The real Vera, small and afraid, came back to assess what she’d done. Her own blood was still wet on her head. She could hear dogs barking. Even worse, she could see the distant glare of emergency lights from police cars at the entrance of the graveyard, slowly gaining access after multiple calls of concern. What had she done? She stood, looking at the exhumed graves around her, a pit nearly six feet under, like some drill had shaved the earth away. She didn’t know what exactly she’d done, but…

She’d done enough to clearly need to run now.

She heaved herself out of the pit, her disheveled uniform coated in dirt she hated so much. She didn’t wait to run, immediately breaking into a mad dash that nearly broke the untouched earth to land her back in the pit. She caught herself and scrambled on. She didn’t know how to get to Juventas’ house without being seen like this, but she had to try. An easier way to avoid attention would be to leave her human form, but then she’d lose her clothes. She held her head as it ached with problem after problem before finally settling on shapeshifting with a heap of hesitation. She was back in the veil, and she could tell. Mushrooms let off their musky smell as she hopped over them, keep to not anger the fae too. It’d been so long since she’d needed to sprint so fast, and the memories of the last occasion were not pleasantly nostalgic. It filled her with a fresh amount of fear that kept tears streaming down her face. The Jann would know for sure she was here now, and she let off quiet sobs at the fact.

No, no, no, please no…

She clamped her fists in fear and kept herself running, trying to keep her sobs from stealing her breath. Finally she reached her abandoned satchel. Her shoes skidded against the grass, and without hesitation her form changed from a desperate human to a desperate cream cat with equal wounds on her feline head, leaving her clothes to fly wherever they were intended to next before fluttering to the ground. A cat covered in blood and dirt wasn’t much better, but she was smaller and didn’t have a uniform on. This was fine. This was fine. This was fine. She darted off leaving her clothes behind without a moment of thought, exiting the veil and beginning a trek that she barely put her mind to until she was skidding to a halt to leap over the fence to the backyard of Juventas’ abode. She had a dog, which meant there had to be a doggie door if the Archembalt family was as free-spirited and forgetful as they appeared to be. The assumption showed itself to be correct as she skidded around the house corner and threw her cat-self through the plastic flap. She could hear Juventas’ bubbly voice upstairs. She couldn’t just sit and wait for a greeting. She was a fucking cat right now.

Her filthy cat self bounded up the stairs, hardly slowing down when the door covered in stickers came to view, simply ramming her head into the wooden plank with hopes to get her attention. She let out a pleading yowl.

Please, she wasn’t hungry anymore. She wasn't hungry anymore. She wasn't hungry anymore.