Fifteen-year-old Waylon didn’t want his life to change. Who needed change? His life was perfect: he had normal grades, he was a great left back on the soccer team, and his family life was mostly normal. Change was the last thing on his mind.
But one day, things changed, and not in the way he expected.
One night, after Waylon’s family finished dinner, he rembered somthing. "Mom, I think I left my cello in the car, I’m gonna go get it." he called, grabbing his dad’s car keys.
"Okay honey, be careful, don’t get kidnapped or anything," she called back from the living room. Waylon’s mom was extra paranoid about these things, probably because of all those cri shows she watched.
"The car is literally just outside. I’ll be fine." Waylon called, rolling his eyes. As he walked closer to the door, the quieter his mom’s voice beca.
"I know, but anything could happen! Who knows, maybe there’s a murderer in the shed, waiting for you to co out." she said. Waylon didn’t think anything of this, it was just his mom being weird again. He didn’t think that she might be right.
He walked outside, kicking so pebbles on the way there. It was dark, and the moon casted silvery light and made thin, creepy shadows with the branches of the trees. The leaves rustled softly with the wind.
Waylon unlocked the car door with a beep and heaved his heavy cello in a black case out of the car. He slung the straps on his shoulders, and carried it out on his back. He was about to walk back to his house when he heard sothing behind him. It was a rusting of leaves again, but there wasn’t any wind, so it must have been an animal. Probably a squirrel or sothing.
He waved it off, because it was probably nothing, but he heard it again, this ti louder. Waylon paused. He leaned the cello against the stairs, and walked closer towards the sound. Maybe it was a deer. He didn’t know what, but sothing made him interested, and he couldn’t explain what.
Suddenly, he heard sothing very strange. He stopped walking. It sounded almost like...breathing. Hoarse, rough breathing. Even though it was very soft, Waylon beca worried. His heart started pounding and his hands were sweating. He turned around, scared of whatever was in the shadows. He wasn’t scared of a lot of things, but now he was doubting that. He ran, hoping he could get inside before discovering what this thing was.
But it was too late.
He felt a sudden harsh pain in his arm that felt like it was burning his flesh inside out. He was too scared to look, so he kept running, and he grabbed his cello, ran inside, and locked the door. He felt woozy, and the ground seed like it was spinning. He put down his instrunt and ran to the bathroom in a hurry. His mom said sothing but he couldn’t hear. He felt like he might pass out. He looked at his arm. It was bleeding, and the crimson blood was dripping down his arm. He was in a lot of shock. He saw a bite mark, but it was unlike anything he ever saw. The wound was not too bad, but he still felt a searing pain.
What was this thing that bit him? Why was it near their house? Waylon’s mind filled with panic as he realized that he had to hide this from his parents, but the longer Waylon looked at the wound, the smaller it beca. He realized that it was closing, in real ti.
Before he knew it, the wound healed, and it had a light scar there that was barely visible. Waylon was very confused and amazed and scared all at the sa ti. He didn’t understand any of this, or what the creature that bit him was. All he knew was that he was very tired. He quickly washed the blood off his arm and went upstairs, and fell fast asleep.
The things that happened in the following weeks were very strange. One thing Waylon noticed was that his hair was growing faster than usual. He usually didn’t have to cut his hair very often, but his hair beca long in a short amount of ti, which wasn’t normal with his hair. And his hair also beca ssy easily.
Another thing that happened was that he lost taste for vegetables. He always liked eating spinach and lettuce, but it beca tasteless. He asked other people if they were experiencing this too, but it seed that he was the only one.
The last thing was the most shocking for Waylon. Sothing inside of him made him stare at peoples’ bare skin. At first he thought it was romance, and maybe he was in love with everyone he saw, but he realized that it was sothing different. It wasn’t attraction, it was...hunger. He started to sohow crave not cooked at, but raw flesh. He was always hungry, no matter what he ate. There was once where his friend was talking to him, but he was only half listening, because he kept looking at his friend’s neck.
Strange and slightly terrifying thoughts were going into his head, telling him things like, "look at that fresh, tasty flesh," or "I can feel the juicy red blood pumping in the veins under his skin."
At first, Waylon was very scared of these intrusive thoughts, and he tried to get rid of them, because they distracted him and made him lose his focus. But the thoughts took over, and always ca on top, no matter how hard he tried.
There was one incident with his best friend Xavier that was the turning point for all these symptoms. At this, he knew there was no going back to his forr life.
"Xav," Waylon said to him as they walked to class.
"Do you ever wonder..."
"Wonder what?" His friend asked.
"This may sound weird, but...do you ever think about human flesh? I an like-"
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