Chapter 2: Part 1, "Me!"

He had no idea why he had done it. He only knew that it felt natural, as if his body had needed it. Somewhere deep in the bank of scattered memories a young mother scolded her toddler Don't bite! People don't bite other people. A look of absolute horror had crossed the large black mans' face as teeth became entrenched in Achilles tendon. A large chunk of calf muscle tore free as the owner of it reflexively pulled away in pain. The toddler sat there with his prize as an innocent smile played across his bloody face. It felt like a birthday and Christmas all rolled into one, he couldn't remember ever being happier in his life.

Meanwhile the family pet recovered from its earlier assault and was desperately lunging for the wounded man on the floor. He didn't care any more as he protectively curled around the red lump lying in front of him. We share with our friends the mother stated flatly to the child. A feeling of ownership welled up within him as he turned from the lecturer. This was his, he took it. The muscles in his forearms rippled as fingers dove deep. Grasping it tightly he took another bite. Me! The child protested gesturing to the gore in his hands. Me! He said as an exclamation of ownership. You share or I'll get your father, and he'll take it away from you! The mother stated more firmly. Looking dejected he reluctantly handed the treat over to the dog. The animal immediately turned its attention away from the fleeing prey and hungrily swallowed the scraps in one great gulp. Deep snorts of satisfaction could be heard between the smacking of jowls.

A quiet calm pervaded the atmosphere of the dank room. The only sounds were that of the scrambling man in the corner as he applied pressure to the gaping wound on his leg. Jackson's leg was in shreds and his mind was quickly approaching insanity. Strange thoughts brought on by a looming shock broke with logic. His mind was screaming to get the hell out of there. Yet he was amazed at how his calf had just ripped clean off. He would have expected that a bite would be a clean irregular shaped hole, instead it seamed as if the pressure from the creatures hands and teeth had pulled most of the muscle right off. There was nothing that even approached a bite mark. It looked more like a bloody mass of congealed spaghetti. Jackson wailed in pain as he started to reapply a makeshift pressure bandage to stop some of the bleeding. He immediately knew that it was a bad idea as he saw two pair of glittering eyes turn to him.

"Me!" The creature said through stretched vocal cords. The pitch was a blend of different tones. It gave Jackson the impression that there was more than one person inside the corpse creature trying to get out. "Me!" it said again as it reached out an arm and started to claw itself quickly towards the wounded meal. The corpse's hands worked at a increasing pace as it halved the distance. Jackson's mind snapped to attention as the threat quickly closed in. Reeling with dizziness Jackson found a handhold within a crevice in the wall and pulled himself to a kneeling posture just as the corpse made a swipe at his injured leg. It would have immediately been on top of him if it hadn't noticed the pool of congealing blood left by Jackson. It stopped just a hairs breadth from Jackson's shoe when it dipped its fingers into the warm sticky liquid and brought them to its mouth. Ravenously cleaning them it immediately went back for more.

Seeing an opportunity arise Jackson took the chance and hobbled passed the outstretched arm. He reached the door and the monster was still staring at the pool as if searching for a reflection. When he unlatched the lock on the door he felt the cool night air clear his mind. As passed through it and out into the silent cemetery he could hear a strangled cry of "Meee! Meeeeee!" coming from behind, and Jackson never looked back.

He returned to the blood and felt his strength increasing tenfold with each mouthful of the gritty liquid. There were many things that didn't make sense, along side the many things that he just didn't know. He didn't know who he was and he didn't know what he was, but one thing he did know with gruesome clarity, was hunger...

His muscles seemed to be working together a little bit better as he managed to stand. The room swam for a moment but then coalesced with renewed clarity. No longer clouded by pain his vision took in the dark surroundings. The roughly laid stone walls closed in an area no bigger than a single car garage. Along the far wall a long shelf contained lawn equipment and some mechanics tools. Adjacent to where the dog sat there was a coiled up gardening hose and a watering can. Hanging from a rusting iron hook was a stained pair or work trousers and a dirty Carhart jacket.

Clothing his nakedness had been more of a challenge then he had remembered. Stitches caught on the rough cotton weave of the pants. Trying to get the two halves of his brain to work together was yet another unforeseen challenge. As his right arm was trying to pull the waistband up, his left hand was working to pull it down. Every action took a concerted effort to complete. He could hear a popping sound as a stitch grabbed and wouldn't let go of the fabric. Already halfway through the motion he continued on as fresh rivulet of pus broke free and made a run for the floor before eventually being absorbed into the stained tapestry of his pants.

Clumsily using a monkey wrench he freed the dog and was rewarded with a wet nuzzling into his palm. For the first time since his awakening he felt solid, not whole, but solid. There was an untapped reserve that had been fed by the flesh. It was a deep well, and the trickle of blood and flesh had only wet the bottom. It was all for him, he wanted more, and the door was open...

"Me!" he said walking through the door...













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