Soon after I gained my manhood, I became a demon for blood. No wildlife was safe from my hunger. I would devour everything in my path just to quench my thirst for blood and feast upon the meat of my latest victim. I was growing stronger, faster and much more valiant with every kill.
Then came the night when reality finally hit me. My father had built a nice shed for us in the woods; it was made of old hardwood from the trees of the forest which surrounded it. The roof was a traditional slope with a light pole on top which my father would keep lit all night to attract lone travelers seeking help. Beside the house was a small stonewalled well with fresh blue water which would last ages. We were free and happy; from all the commotion, away in our humble abode. Never had I ever thought of ever losing both my parents at such a young age. As I lay in my bed all alone in our little peaceful shed I finally realized how alone I was. There was no living soul around for miles. I yearned for company but my wishes were never granted.
Each morning I would wake to the rising sun peeping in through my window. I would climb up to the roof to put out the flames of the light pole and would scream to the mountains, hoping, praying that anyone would respond. I missed the sweet loving company of my mother, whom I had cherished the most in this world and I wept till my eyes would dry out of tears. I would spend days at the shrine I built her, right beside my father. My loneliness was reaching its peak but there was no one to fill the expanding void in my heart.
One ordinary night, I came home, shut the door and put my latest hunt on the table to feast when I heard something strange.