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"The first time is always the hardest...." The shadow whispered in
her mind, a dark caress inviting, tempting, reminding her of the deep
and unfulfilled hunger which she possesed as one of the damned.

It was a voice that would not be silent, and it was with her always.

If the words were meant to be a comfort they weren't, and they made
none of this any easier for the Shadow-Eater.


The hunger seemed to almost have a life of its own. She had denied it
for so long, supressed it so long, and she had thought that she was
beginning to master the urge, but this primal need, this need that
was deeper than anything she had known, physical, spiritual hunger
and torment, it kept returning to her no matter how she tried to deny
what it was she needed. She needed to feat upon a soul

But the first and the last time she had fed, she had taken to much,
and she had killed him.

She hadn't even meant to do it. She had touched him, and tasted of
his inner essence. She had drawn it within herself and had been
unable to resist the urge to continue. Even as he cried out in pain.
Even as his veins began to constrict, as they started to blacken, as
he cried out in pain. Even as he begged her to stop, she couldn't do
it.

His face still haunted her, tears rolled down her eyes at the memory.


The voice in her mind, the comfort of the Shadow, spoke to her once
again.

"You cant put it off any longer. If you do not feed soon you will
die....." The voice almost seemed to plead with her. "You have to do
this..."

The Soul-Eater of course knew that the voice that spoke to her was
right, even if she did not totally understand its origins, she knew
that it was her truest friend, and had never steered her wrong.

"Listen to my voice, I will tell you when to pull away....dont ignore
me like last time. We are predators who chose to kill, you dont have
to kill, but you have to feed. Its not something you can deny. Its
not something you can neglect, its as breathing the very air. You
have done without long enough. You need your strength. Feed.
Feed....feed...."

She did not ignore it any longer. The Soul Eater went to a local
nightclub, where she began her seduction of one of the many eager
young men in the place. Young alive, he craved her with a passion.
She drew him to her, like a dark goddess out of some kind of twisted
faery tale, and she listened to the guidance of the shadow.

The first taste of the soul was on her lips. The look of fear, of
instinctively knowing you were in danger. The something was predator,
and you were mere prey. It was in his eyes. The mortal knew the
danger though it made no rational sense to him. She appeared to be
just like everyone else.

Her touch was pain. He felt it weakening him. He could feel the
sensation of something being pulled from within his core.

There was the temptation. Take it all. The fear, the pain, the anger,
the passion, the lust, all of it.

Then the voice whispered. "Stop..."

She remembered what happened the last time she had fed in this manner.
She had spared nothing. She had taken his life, his soul, all he had
to offer the world. The Soul-Eater did not want a repeat of that
mistake.

She forced herself to let the mortal go before she killed him.

Do you wonder why you hate?
Are you still too weak to survive your mistakes?

The Soul-Eater made eye contact with her prey. He would not
understand. He could not. He would not know that she had just
shortened his very life. But, she had at least stopped short of
killing him. She didn't have a choice. She needed what he had.
She was starving every moment of her existence for the taste of a
soul, mortal or immortal alike.

It was tempting. To grab him. To finish what she started. To
strengthen herself more. To feel the euphoric feeling that only came
upon ending a life. The deepest pleasure one of her kind could ever
know.

"The more you kill the more you want...." The Shadow whispered to the
Soul-Eater. "Draw back from him. Draw back from him or you will end
his life."