Kill Or Be Killed

• Rameen Malik, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2010

The venom blazed through my throat, like a swivelling wild-fire, as my mouth felt like a dry wheat field, just longing for something to quench its thirst. I longed for the fiery red liquid they called blood, for as it had a tantalizing, sense tingling smell and a taste which was mind blowing. Even a drip of it would get you addicted. They had only given me a trickle. It had been three days, a whole seventy-two hours since I had received some. Those three days, were the most agonizing of my life. I thought about it all the time and replayed the feel of it slithering delicately down my thirst stricken throat. It was the most beautiful drug ever.
Suddenly, the wrought iron door burst open, exposing me to the harsh sunlight which blinded me. There appeared a distinctive large cloaked figure, which dragged me along an open courtyard where many similar cloaked figures stood, staring at me as if I was some sort of specimen.
The cloaked figure dragged me along the dry granite path, until we reached a barren area where there only lay a dusty, elegant throne on which another cloak figure rested.
He roared ferociously and blanketed all the whispers that proceeded in the background. He then delicately lifted off the hood which enclosed his face. Exposed, were his pale white cheeks, on which embedded was a pair of fiery-red crystal eyes. On top of them, lay his bushy eyebrows which were a colour similar to that of his pale, white skin. But surprisingly, his hair was sleek and ran like an ocean of black ink down the back of his neck. But his voice topped my train of thought as he said, “You feeble being. We all know you crave the red jewel. But if you are to have it, you must show us you are a predator, otherwise you will be banished from ever experiencing its pleasure ever again. Which means you will be exposed to death.”
Death… the word simply felt like a slap on the face. I simply had to kill or be killed.
Before I could question the leader’s command, someone appeared from the crowd, dragging along with him a body of a young human girl. I slowly approached her, but the scent hit me. The scent of the blood, I needed it, I wanted it, I had to posses it. I trailed the scent, to be lead to the human girl. I lunged towards her, but stopped. Her eyes glazed with fever, make her breathe heavily, trying to escape the terrors she expected.
The look in her eyes made me stop. I was going to in a matter of seconds, but for what? For the pleasure? How could I just kill her? She was alive, breathing; she probably had a family waiting for her. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t commit a murder.
I had grasped her tightly and exposed her neck. We were just inches apart. I could see the blood vigorously pumping through her veins, just calling me to go for it. But, I didn’t. I stepped back and stood there silently, waiting for someone to speak. Moments passed and no one spoke a word.
I then turned around to feel something pierce my heart. The pain surged through me as I saw a black fluid gushing rapidly from my body. But then, the pain vanished and only remained darkness.
It suffocated. Not even a ray of light was around. It was just me and the darkness. If I had taken the bite, I wouldn’t be here. I would be happy, strong and most importantly, alive. I would be alive, with the blood of an innocent being tattooed on my hands. I would be a murderer. A monster. Was this guilt worth staying alive for? No. I had done right. Maybe the darkness wouldn’t be so bad after all…