He was on verge of tears, he wanted this to end, he wanted his old miserable life back. He feared that when he left this place he would kill again and he didn’t want that.
The lust for blood ran wild through his system, crying out harder and harder, but he remained seated making his mind a blank. He noticed that whatever was calling out was getting more and more angry with him, he braced himself for the pain that he knew would come.
But no pain came, the coat didn’t do anything. He kept his mind as blank as he could as he got to his feet and felt in the one pocket of the coat, nothing was there. He cursed softly as he could use a glass of grinnitch right now. With the hand still in the pocket nothing stirred.
Would he dare to go outside?
He felt the coat urging him to do so, which made him decide against it. Immediately he doubled over with pain and cried out; ‘I’m not going to do it, you hear?’
Again pain raced through his body, making him spasm and roll over the floor.
Gasping he lay still and smiled to himself. At daylight he would go to the priest and see what he had found out, maybe then he could get rid of this damned piece of garment.
Again pain made him curl up and stretch out, bruising some muscles. As the bout of pain was over he started laughing, feeling that it angered whatever was inside him, so he laughed even harder until his stomach hurt and tears ran down his cheeks.
‘I got you now,’ he thought chuckling.
He jumped up, ignoring the pain in his bruised muscles and walked down the stairs to get outside and feel the drizzle on his face. The moment he stepped outside the lust for blood came in so hard and fast it made him stagger against the wall.
‘No,’ he growled. ‘I will not kill tonight.’