The moon held a heavy aura with it, looming over the forest like a sentinel, judging, high and mighty, in the clouds. I thought it was strange, the moon generally gives me solace, but rather I felt lost.
I can hear footsteps, closing near, drowning out my own heartbeat. Loud, heavy footsteps shook the forest, disturbing nearby birds and the wildlife. My hands trembled as the last bird fled into the mirage of foliage to the north.
I ducked my head, cowering in the bushes, frightened; like a timid mouse I suppose. The blood on my hands sparkled in a ray of moonlight that pierced the leaves above. It looked delectable.
The taste of blood is something I indulged in long ago, but I've tried to abstain from that. Disgust writhed through my skin, and self loathing left an imprint on my heart, one that had its last beat in distant years.
The iron smell of blood attacked my nostrils; I inhaled deep, lusting for that familiar taste. A beast within me awoke, breaking through my inner self, sharp and jagged. I am left nothing but a shell of my former self. The footsteps emerged near me, human and fresh. I apologise, there is nothing I can do. Once I am turned, I have nothing but my thoughts. That's the least I can do to convince myself I'm not evil.
Please forgive me.
I'm not myself.