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Apr 19

TIMING: Current PARTIES: Metzli @muertarte and Jenny @whimmortal LOCATION: The woods SUMMARY: Metzli teaches Jenny a thing or two about hunting animals in the wild CONTENT WARNING: Tongue horror

“Just up ahead. There's a clearing where I like to hunt.” Metzli led Jenny up a slight slope, having navigated at least a mile away from where they parked. It was better that way, ensuring that they'd be alone out in the woods. The farther, the better. Neither of them needed another casualty on their conscience.

“Take a deep inhale. Tell me what you smell.” Having already honed their sense of smell, they knew exactly what was around. What lay amongst the groaning trees and the rattling brush. The strange mixture of fishy and sweet, marking the presence of moose, and the earthy, sweet smell that came from squirrels.

Metzli inhaled again, catching something new, a little stronger than the acidic dirt and the pine. It was pungent and musky, reminding Metzli of cat urine. They narrowed their eyes, seeing the landscape clearly but not finding anything that stuck out to them. “So, anything?”

—

If anything, the surge had proved that relying purely on bloodbags was an unsafe bet. Though she was plagued by the memories of her small massacre at the gym, there was also a part of her that longed for that carnation. For the blood she had tasted then. Warm and alive. They were glad for Metzli’s aid, for the way they had suggested they go hunting. Jenny was trying to be appreciative of the woods around her, but she had never been much of a nature person. Besides, she was itching with anticipation.

“Alright,” she said once they had reached the slope. Jenny inhaled deeply as instructed. Her senses were sharper now and it was slightly overwhelming, even in the woods. It was like there were more birds than ever, even though it was winter. She tried to focus on all the scents entering her nose, but found little that made her intrigued.

“Pines … something mushroom-y. Earth. Leaves. Uh, you know. The things.” She looked at Metzli. “I don’t feel like chasing any of it though. Which one do I pick out? Is there even …” She shook her head. “What do you smell?”

—

So not all was lost. Jenny was able to identify a few scents herself and that meant there was enough to work with. “Inhale again.” Metzli instructed, inhaling along with her. “There are a few animals around. Squirrels, obviously, but those will not feed you enough.”

There was a rocky incline coming up ahead, and Metzli arched a brow. Higher ground was always preferable when hunting. “The moose will be up ahead. There is a creek to our right that bends around. Note the fishy smell. It is more than that.”

Pausing, Metzli leapt high and caught purchase on a lip of the wall and began to climb. “Trust your instincts while climbing. The hunt will guide you.” They inhaled again. “Do you smell the sweet undertone? The acidity? That is moose.” Metzli continued to climb, enjoying the ascent. “But we are not the only ones hunting. Notice the cat piss.”

—

The idea of killing and drinking from a squirrel made Jenny's nostrils flare slightly in response, but she did not voice her disgust. Swallowed was a comment about not being a dog, because Metzli was already acknowledging that a squirrel was not good enough. But when the other went on to talk about a moose. Had Metzli forgotten that Jenny wasn't as tall as they were? Sure, she had cut through multiple men twice her weight earlier that month, but a moose? Those were really, really big.

She tried to inhale again, sniffing as Metzli started climbing. “I smell it. Isn’t a moose too big for me? I am … I don't like to acknowledge it but I lack in height!” She watched for a little more, then started towards the incline. She had gone bouldering exactly once, but that was before she'd gained superhuman strength.

Jenny took hold of one of the rocks, pulling up her weight with a surprising ease. Holding on and finding a new place to move was stressful, though. What if she fell? Metzli said to trust her instincts, but her instincts wanted her back on the ground. “Gross,” she muttered. “Who is our competition?” She moved her leg, trying to give herself the space to hoist herself further up. She groaned, not yet giving up but thinking about it all the same.

—

Watching Jenny work made it abundantly clear that she had a very easy upbringing. On top of the fact that she behaved like she always got what she wanted, it was easy for Metzli to piece that together. She continued, though. Her trying at all was important, and it looked like she was well on her way to becoming a decent student.

“Moose are large, yes, but our strength overpowers them. From what I read, your tongue shreds and your feral state is ferocious and unpredictable.” Up against an animal made that an advantage. Maybe against hunters, too. If Henri was any indication at least.

“What you lack in height, you make up for in strength,” Metzli informed bluntly. “On the hunt, we are animals. Predators. Hopefully that has been made clear in your feedings.” When Jenny was close to reaching them, her comment made them roll their eyes with an amused, huffy chuckle. “If the urine smells feline in nature, I would have to guess it is a bobcat. They're common here.” They sighed, “Now hurry up. I'm hungry.”

—

Climbing was not an issue because of a lack of strength, that was clear. Jenny felt something strange course through her as she realized how strong she was now, but at the same time battled with a fear of falling. There was a technicality to the climbing that she did lack. She was holding onto her breath as she tried to found a route that would not see her land on her ass, trying to juggle that along with the conversation and smell.

“I can’t just … go feral on demand,” she said, her voice not strained. That was a surprise, but she figured it was because though she was exerting herself, she needn’t breathe. “It just happens. When I’m hungry or when I smell blood.” She was not sure about what other triggers there might be. But the person she was when frenzied wasn’t one she felt entirely in touch with. It felt like an entity within that took hold of her, rather than she herself, monstrified.

She heaved herself over the rocks, onto the ground and ended up crouched. Jenny looked down over her shoulder. “Damn,” she said, impressed with herself despite it all. She rose to her feet, looking at Metzli. “Okay.” She inhaled again, trying to get a sense of direction. Sniffing once more, she felt like an animal trying to track something. She looked at Metzli for a moment before starting off in the direction where the moose-y smell seemed to come from. “Let’s … try this.”

—

The initiative Jenny was taking was refreshing. All it took was a few pointers and she was able to lead them in the correct direction. Metzli was impressed and a little humbled by it, a grin stretching their cheeks upright.

After their change, control was so hard to grasp and their new sensitivity to smell overwhelmed them when it came to a hunt. For weeks, they were useless. Kabil was the natural. Now though, that fact seemed untrue.

“Scent is a fantastic tool, but it's not the only thing you should use.” Metzli picked up in pace and jogged just slightly ahead of Jenny. “Look,” They pointed to the ground, bringing tracks to Jenny's attention. “You did good.” When she caught up, Metzli gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder, continuing to walk in the direction the tracks led.

It only took a few paces for them to hear the signature moose bellow to know they were close. Metzli instinctively crouched down and looked at Jenny, raising a finger to their lips. They pointed their head toward the sound and stealthily made their way to the clearing where a small herd was grazing.

Locking eyes with Jenny, they leaned in to whisper, drawing a knife out. “I wound that moose closest to us and you attack, okay?” Metzli gave her a moment to process, then flung the blade into the moose's neck. The smell of iron filled the area immediately, as did the sound of distress from the injured moose. Some moose scattered while a few stragglers ran towards the disturbance.

—

The vampires that had fed on Jenny had mostly done it in the way she imagined she would like to feed. In an alley, in bed, in the back of the club. (Or on her living room floor, with her squirming under Metzli’s weight — but she was not thinking of that now.) All the times she had fed had been spontaneous and chaotic, ripping people apart in their homes, a gym or a random alley. This was different.

Metzli pointed out tracks. They were hunting. Creatures of prey looking for something that ranked below them on the food chain. She pursed her lips together, not entirely sure what to make of it. But her hunger was alive and she could smell that moose. The sheer size of it was enough to keep her going.

She smiled at Metzli, their approval making her all the more excited. She hated being bad at anything and even though this wasn’t exactly what she had imagined for herself, she’d hate to be a flop at it. She moved next to the older vampire, crouching next to them. Instinct made her hold her breath, and Jenny almost laughed when she realized she didn’t need to focus on that any more.

Watching the moose, she felt her tongue press against the confines of her mouth, wanting out. They were large and they were many. Not unlike the men at the gym. Filled to the brim with healthy blood, that might not satisfy the way they had, but was still warm and alive. “Okay,” she answered, voice hoarse with hunger.

Once the knife cut through skin, the scent of blood became dizzying. She had smelled it before, but now it was everywhere. Jenny didn’t have to think. She just acted. Moving from where she was crouched, she bolted forward, unleashing her tongue and slicing at a moose close to her before jumping on another. Her tongue made quick work of its neck, then its guts and burrowed deep into the beast’s body. Organs and blood made way for her and Jenny ate with fervour. To call it drinking would be incorrect, considering how her teeth ripped skin and organs apart.

—

The gore was oddly enticing to the vampire. Shreds of flesh, sinew, and organs fell around Jenny, her hunger ripping further into the second moose she was now focused on. Metzli watched in horrified admiration, pins poking at their nerves. As if the more rational part of their brain was telling their body it should run. But they didn't. Instead, they took a deep, shuddering breath and stepped forward.

Trepidation wobbled their gait, and it took several paces to level out their nerves, but Metzli eventually came across a lingering moose. It huffed with anticipation and power, head thrusting side to side before it charged forward, antlers pointed right at them. Metzli didn't move, nor did they hesitate to barrel into the attack. The moose let out a surprised and distressed bray at the impact, falling to the side with a heavy crunch into the snow when Metzli threw both of their weights.

In the next instant, they bit down into the moose's neck and groaned with satisfaction as the blood coated their tongue. A clean kill unlike Jenny's, though they knew it couldn't be helped. Overall, it was a successful hunt. The only thing left was to see how Jenny would return to herself, and Metzli came prepared in case she needed some guidance.

—

The blood was different from all she had tasted so far. In her memory of blood there were a few instances that stood apart for different reasons, like Baz and the gardener, and Henri too. The moose tasted warm and fresh, almost better than the blood that came delivered in a bag and she kept chilled in her second fridge. But there was something more iron-heavy about it, something that made her yearn for the freshness of human blood.

Still, she could not complain. Quite literally, because the ability to speak was gone as she tore organs into little digestible pieces. She lapped up the blood spilled, dug her fingers further into the moose to get the parts out of the way she had no interest in. It was a good thing she did not need to breathe, with the way she was burying her face into the hollow she’d created in the creature. Her face was red, pieces of gore stuck to her hair and she’d severed a few limbs from the animal to creature more places to drain empty.

Eventually, after she’d made messy and destructive work of the moose and she’d had her fill, Jenny came back to herself. She wiped at her eyes, trying to get rid of the blood clinging to her eyelashes but came nowhere. Her arms were red too, as were her fingers. She looked through blood-stained lashes at the scene she’d created. Two moose laid ripped, a long intestine discarded a few feet over. A torn open stomach revealed a cavity where she remembered nearly drowning herself on blood. She stared and heard the whine leave her throat before she could stop herself. When her eyes started producing tears, the blood finally stopped clinging to her lashes.

—

Something bent in Metzli’s chest when they heard Jenny's distress. They turned to face her, wide-eyed and stiff, blood smeared across their cheek. She was a gory scene while Metzli looked almost beautiful, like one of those vampires she admired in her stories.

Was that the reason behind her loss of composure? Or was a kill a kill, no matter what species? When Metzli fed on animals, it felt a lot like when they slaughtered animals on their uncle's ranch. It was necessary for sustenance and use of the hide, along with the other miscellaneous parts they could use. No piece went unused and the animal died for a reason. A good reason, even. So, what was wrong?

“Jenny?” Metzli approached her slowly, taking her hand and not caring how it stained their skin. “What's wrong?” They weren't sure if they'd be able to provide adequate comfort, but they knew putting feelings into words could alleviate much of the weight she was feeling now.

—

She did not want to cry, but that had never stopped her from weeping before. The sight of the carnage she had caused was like a shock to the nervous system, and now that the adrenaline of her frenzy was gone there was nothing but the release. Two tracks of tears made way through her blood stained face.

Metzli was at her side, taking her hand. Jenny looked at their hand, then up at them. What’s wrong, they asked, and she didn’t know what to say. She felt only pathetic, like a failed copy of the person she was supposed to be. She tried to figure out why she was crying but there was no direct cause to find. It wasn’t because she felt particularly sad for the moose. It wasn’t because she felt guilty.

She felt like a clenched fist that had just been released. Like a balloon emptying swiftly. “I …” She heard herself stammer distantly. Jenny shook her head, as if that would help her. “Just a lot. The … the sight. Don’t think I’m used — don’t know that I ever will be —” She had seen so much gore in movies, had read about it aplenty, but the sight of it now, at her own hands (and tongue) was stirring something within her. But then wasn’t there something else, too? Something like power? She’d killed two creatures that were four times her size and she was unwounded. She shivered. “Heh.”

—

“That's okay.” Metzli reassured, carefully brushing their thumb over each of her knuckles. It didn't matter that the moose hadn't been human instead. The carnage Jenny created from a power she was still learning was enough to jar her into a state of despair and grief. She died and failed to return in the image she'd envisioned. The gore would have been less, but the severity would have been the same.

Still, something like pride bloomed across Jenny. Her shoulders straightened, her spine lengthened, and her expression cooled. “You did a good job,” Metzli smiled with a pat to Jenny's shoulder. “You tracked your meal and took it down efficiently. A successful hunt.” They gave her shoulder a squeeze, moving to point to her chest, giving it two little taps.

“This is what is inside of you now. A monstrous and erratic power, but it will not rule you. You are different from me but we hunger for the same thing.” A sigh bellowed and puffed into the air, dissipating slowly. “Strength comes from here.” Metzli tapped Jenny's chest again. “But the discipline to understand it and control it comes from here.” Another two taps, this time, at Jenny's temple. “You have more than proven you have the capacity to live by this. To grow used to it.” Because she had to, for the sake of those around her.

—

Highs were often followed by lows for Jenny. As if euphoria only left room for the release of all other cooped up emotions. She thought of all the times she had cried after sex, wiping her tears on a pillowcase or someone’s shoulder. Was this like this? It was hard to draw a parallel to the gorey sight in front of her and the aftermath of intercourse, and yet her body felt as stretched and released as she did otherwise.

Metzli was trying to say it was okay and she disregarded it in favor for the compliment. She was a beast of prey that, she knew that. She stood at the top of the food chain, a goal she had aimed for and even though she did not quite like the beast she had become her position had once more been solidified. And she had done well. Jenny smiled at Metzli, vaguely. She brought her hand to her mouth, licked at her knuckle.

“It does rule me,” she confessed. “And … that is not so bad, during a hunt, but at other times …” The bodies in the gym. The woman in the alley. Henri. She closed her eyes for a moment. She felt herself hunger for that warm humanness on her tongue, rather than the musky taste of moose blood. How she was still hungry was a mystery to her. “But … grow, you said. It’s a process, maybe. I …” She looked at the carcasses, then back up at Metzli. “How do you fight it, all the time? Don’t you just want to give in?”

—

“Maybe it always will rule you, in some way, but to choose to do better is what matters. We can't fight our nature. We can't run from it.” In the beginning, that's all Metzli tried to do. They tried to survive the same way as they did as human, and it ended with them looking a lot like Jenny did right then, but instead of moose, it was several innocent people.

Metzli had no doubt Jenny had experienced similar by now. She had to. While their features only changed slightly when blood was spilled, Jenny turned into a beast. That was far harder to control, and there was no telling if she could ever prevent it. At the very least, she found a way to bring herself back. An improvement, all things considered. She had the desire and wherewithal to share the discovery, too. That spoke volumes. That gave her the purpose she needed to not give in.

“Of course I want to give in. It's nature. We are designed to kill.” A shaky sigh tumbled out of Metzli and they sat back on their heels. “But there is more to us than our monster. We are rooted in humanity. We have the curse of knowing death. We are what killed us.”

That alone was enough to convince Metzli to be better. So many had met the same fate as them, and they couldn't do that anymore. “That's how I don't give in. I have people who matter and so do you.” They breathed, “Trust me, Jenny, you don't want to give in. You don't want to be like me. I-I have hurt so many and I didn't care back then, but I care now. I should have always cared, and that is my burden to bear. Being better won't undo the damage, but it can prevent it from spreading.” That's ultimately why they wanted to teach Jenny to begin with. Metzli wanted better for her. Kinder. History didn't have to repeat itself. “We are not our failures. Just…just what we learn and choose to become from them.”

—

Jenny fell quiet for a moment, chewing on all Metzli was saying. Nature, monster, humanity. It were all terms she was familiar with in a literary sense, had picked them all apart in plenty of essays. The term monster especially had been analyzed aplenty so she could describe what made a monster in fiction and how that related to the time period of a book’s release. She did not like to think of herself as something of that sort, most days.

But she also knew what she became when hunger took over. How her tongue became a weapon more threatening than knives and swords, how she was unstoppable. It was a monstrous thing, but she was yet to find a way to apply the label to herself in a way that was satisfying. That made sense. That gave comfort. Because a monster was only a subjective thing, wasn’t it? It was just a word.

“Humanity is plenty monstrous,” she said, though it was not said with heart. It was just something to say, something repeated from where she may have read it. She looked at Metzli for a moment, pondering whatever era they spoke of where they did not care. She bit down on her lip. “That was when we first met. Right? When you … didn’t care. Or tried not to.” Jenny guffawed softly. “You were not very good at it.” The smile on her lips was a bit bitter, but also one of amusement at where the two of them were now.

She ran her bloody hand through her bloody hair. “That’s … I’ve spent so much on haircare since all this,” she muttered, before returning to the topic at hand. “I’m just… so hungry, all the time. And this was good, but I still… fuck. I can’t stop thinking about human blood. About the actual fucking stuff. From the vein. Not this, or from a bag. But warm and …” She threw her gaze up at the night sky. She saw more stars than she ever had as a human. “This is exhausting. To fight that. To …” She shook her head. “But this was better, almost, than the bag. More natural, anyway.”

—

A dry chuckle escaped Metzli and they nodded, no energy really behind it. “No, I've never been good at not caring.” They swallowed, chewing the inside of their cheek.

“And still, I've hurt many. Whether or not I cared didn't matter. I thought…I thought I could earn my sire's love if I was like him, but that just…” A shrug. “Other people paid for that. Even worse, I can't recall every face when they were all people. But I'm glad…” Metzli sniffled and squeezed their eyes shut so hard they saw stars. When they opened them again, they saw Jenny fading into clarity. “I'm really glad you're not a face I forget.” An apology of sorts. Saying I'm sorry wasn't enough anymore.

“It takes time, Jenny. It's okay to feel the way you do. It's important to feel it.” After all, she was still learning and processing everything. Even being over a century old, Metzli still sometimes struggled with hunger too. Fighting against inner nature was a constant battle, one that was sometimes lost. Failure was just a step though, and Jenny now had plenty of time to practice.

“It never stops, but we do it for the people we care about, yeah?” They smiled warmly at Jenny, offering their hand to help her stand up. “Come on. Let's wash up at a nearby creek.” Metzli pulled Jenny up with ease, giving her hand a squeeze before heading toward water. “You did good, Jenny. I'm proud of you.”

—

Jenny was silent for a moment. All through Metzli’s words, she had wondered if they also counted her as someone they’d hurt, and when they looked at her and confirmed that they did, she felt herself nearly sway. It was an ugly thing, their shared past. The memory of her pinned to the living room floor was still a sharp and jagged thing, but seemed to have gained a new context ever since Jenny had sliced men and women apart herself. And though she thought there was a difference, she also understood that ruthlessness was not always something controlled.

She did not know what to say. She bit on her lip, found a bit of coagulated blood there that she pulled into her mouth with her teeth. “That’s done now.” Her human life had to be left behind. The fears, the agony, the time in the sun. All of it.

Metzli mentioned the people she cared about, and Jenny wanted it badly to be enough. When she felt like herself, the thought of those she loved was enough to ground her. But there was also that part within her that she liked to think of as not herself, which wanted to taste those she cared about. That wanted to have Baz completely and lethally. She nodded, somewhat stunned into silence. She did not want to admit that she was afraid that the people she cared about were not enough to keep her from ripping everyone apart.

As Metzli pulled her up and squeezed her hand, she nodded. “Alright.” Washing up in a creek was something she had never done, but with her being covered in blood as well as immortal, she didn’t have it in her to argue about all the diseases creek water might hold. She just followed Metzli, trying to hold onto the feeling that came with being told they were proud of her, and in return wordlessly gave them back more of her trust.

#writing #bloody ink #jenny and metzli #c: jenny #tongue horror tw #lessons in hunting

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