His teeth found my throat before my hand found my knife. In an instant of pure terror, I gripped the handle and sliced through the air, eventually cutting my boyfriends throat. Blood sprayed and flesh tore. I could smell it, taste it, and also feel where his teeth had bitten me. Oh God, my mind screamed. that bastard bit me. I should have seen the wet gleam of hunger in his eyes before he pulled me down on top of his that night. those soft, hungry kisses against my neck were nothing but blood thirsty tricks.

The monster inside him consumed him in an endless cycle of need and want.

No, not a need to infect. but a need to consume.

Devour.
I could already feel the heat from the bite boiling through my veins.
I could feel the want calling me.
Eat, eat, eat...
Glancing down at my own arm, I felt a sick convulsion go through me. I slowly sunk my own teeth into my flesh.
I tasted sudden warmth, sudden copper. But I couldn't stop. I closed my eyes and continued to let the infection devour me. And as I reopened my eyes, there was nothing left of my hand.
Blood stained my tunic and jeans.
I was devouring my own flesh.
I was devouring myself.
I, truly, was a sick monster.