Young Victoria stood limply in the center of the onyx road, a huge bloody fissure pooling on her flushed knees.

It wasn’t anything unusual, though, not for her. Her body already began to crack years before she could even lift her wand.

_Mistake. Mistake. Mistake. _

Two chasms, charcoal black, ran jaggedly through her forearms until they reached her neck. _Lightning Veins_: a condition that made her hungry and ravenous, inhibited her, and increased her ambitions and appetite for blood. She preferred rabbits, mostly, but her own blood tasted better when she was starving.

Today she was **insatiable**.

Hunger struck her down and her knees gave out. The cobblestone scratched against her as her lightless satchel jostled beneath her.

Where was her knife?

She ransacked her bag, until she felt the tip of her knife prick her index. She barely felt a tingle as she clutched the blade—blood and pain had become her friend many years ago.

With a wolfish snarl, she nicked the palm of her hand and sucked until she could feel a warmth return to her face. The sweet tangy aftertaste placed a smile on the macabre girl’s face.

She needed _more_.