The Hunger (307 words)

She cracks her eyes open and stretches her still weak limbs, runs her tongue across the smooth, spittle coated gums still yet to sport teeth.

Teeth that will soon be used to tear flesh asunder but not now, not yet. She is still weak, she is still helpless but the hunger is there. Its always there.

Gnawing away at her very core, never quite sated.

Now fully awake she surveys her surroundings, everything is still as it was when she finally admitted defeat and gave into sleep a few short hours ago. 

Warm and content in the darkness she wriggles back into the comfort of her nest, briefly debates going back to sleep for a while. An hour or two more wouldn't hurt, would they?

Then the hunger rears its demon head again and an involuntary, pained cry escapes her lips, she makes herself jump and whimpers at the frustration of it all, she is utterly at its mercy.

It writhes again bringing forth more pained cries and she is thrashing now, trying to fight it off as it smothers her very being, she can't give in, she won't, she can beat it this time.  

But its too late, they have awoken.

Words are exchanged, words she barely understands and can't yet replicate but she gets the gist of the argument.

"Whose turn is it?"

"I did the last one."

"Well I have to be up in an hour."

"Well you're awake now, no point going back to sleep you'll only feel worse."


A door slams.

Then footsteps are padding towards her, strong arms suddenly reach into her sanctuary and pluck her, gently out.

"Come on princess, stop all that noise, daddy has got a headache."

The rubber teat of the bottle nuzzles against her lips, she suckles hungrily and is soon content again.

For now.

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