Page 18 of Marked By His Hunger
That is why I remain here.
Not for sanctuary.
Not for belonging.
But for discipline.
The others keep their distance.
They always have.
Word spreads quickly within stone walls.
They know what I am.
They have seen the restraints during feeding rotations—chains etched with runes, layered with magic strong enough to choke even something like me.
They have heard the stories.
How I nearly tore through the donors meant to sustain me.
How close I came to losing control.
Fear is a language every creature understands.
It follows me through corridors. Lingers in glances. Presses against my back like a second shadow.
I do not resent them for it.
Fear is appropriate.
I have never sought their acceptance.
Their companionship.
Their touch.
I am not some lovesick fool searching for redemption in another’s arms.
I am Draugr.
A Revenant.
A weapon forged from failure and fate.
And my hunger is not something that can be soothed with soft words or fleeting warmth.
It is a force.
A storm contained within flesh that was never meant to hold it.
I exist to master it.
Or to be consumed by it.
Wind howls as I ascend the spiral staircase to the watchtower I claimed long ago.
I was given chambers overlooking the fjord.
