Hunger in the Moonlight

A wave of nausea rolled over Blair, pulling her from a restless sleep. She shifted in bed, her hand blindly reaching for the glass of water she always kept on her nightstand. Her fingers met empty air, followed by the sharp sound of glass shattering against the hardwood floor.

"Ugh, what the…?" Claudia mumbled from her bed, her voice thick with sleep. "Blair, are you trying out for a role in a disaster movie? Because that sounded pretty convincing."

Blair ignored her, already scrambling out of bed, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. The broken glass was the least of her worries. Sleep, which had been a fickle friend at best lately, was now a distant, impossible dream. Images of Victor's strained face, the palpable tension in his shoulders as he'd negotiated with Sal Demarco, the unsettling sense of danger that clung to him like a shadow, replayed in her mind, a relentless loop of worry and a growing suspicion she couldn't ignore.

She crept to the window, pulling back the curtain just enough to peek out at the street below. The city was shrouded in the inky blackness of the pre-dawn hour, the only illumination coming from the streetlights that cast long, eerie shadows across the deserted sidewalks. She took a deep breath, the cool night air carrying the faint scent of rain and something else… a metallic tang that sent a shiver down her spine.

Her gaze drifted towards Victor's room, drawn to it like a moth to a flame. The door was slightly ajar, a sliver of golden light spilling out into the hallway, beckoning her closer. Curiosity, that insatiable hunger for answers that had always been both her strength and her weakness, gnawed at her. What was he doing awake at this hour? Was he planning his next move against Demarco? Or was there something more… sinister… lurking beneath the surface?

She hesitated for a moment, her hand hovering over the doorknob, a battle raging within her between caution and the need to know. Then, with a silent prayer to whatever guardian angels might be watching over reckless, curious souls like herself, she pushed the door open.

The room was empty.

Disappointment, sharp and unexpected, washed over her. She scanned the room, her gaze lingering on the rumpled bed, the open window with its view of the moonlit cityscape, the faint scent of tobacco and something else… something sweet and metallic that made her stomach churn.

A soft clinking sound drew her attention to the kitchen. She crept down the hallway, her footsteps silent on the plush carpet, her heart pounding in her chest. Victor was standing in front of the open refrigerator, his back to her, his shoulders hunched, his whole body radiating an air of utter desolation.

Blair watched him, her breath caught in her throat. He reached into the fridge, his hand emerging with a single bottle of red wine and a handful of grapes – the remnants of their grocery shopping spree from a few days ago. He slammed the fridge door shut, the sound echoing through the silent apartment like a gunshot, and turned, his gaze falling on a beautifully carved wooden box that sat on the kitchen counter.

The box, Blair knew, had always been there, a silent sentinel guarding its secrets. She'd tried to ignore it, to pretend it wasn't a constant source of fascination, of morbid curiosity. But now, seeing Victor reach for it with a trembling hand, his face pale and drawn, his eyes filled with a mixture of longing and despair, she couldn't resist the urge to know.

She ducked behind the kitchen door, pressing herself against the cool wood, her heart hammering in her chest. She watched as Victor carried the box to the table, his movements slow and deliberate, as if each step took an immense effort. He sat down, his gaze fixed on the box, his fingers hovering over the latch, a battle raging within him that Blair could feel even from across the room.

"No," he whispered, his voice raspy with a raw emotion that sent shivers down Blair's spine. "I can't… I shouldn't."

But even as he spoke the words, his hand reached out, the latch clicking open with a sound that seemed to echo through the silence of the apartment.

Blair held her breath, her eyes widening as Victor lifted the lid, revealing rows of neatly arranged vials filled with a viscous, crimson liquid. Blood. The scent, rich and metallic, filled the air, making her head spin.

Victor's fingers brushed against one of the vials, his hand trembling, his gaze fixed on the blood as if it were a forbidden elixir, a source of both life and death. The air crackled with a tension that was almost palpable, a desperate hunger battling against an iron will.

He closed the box with a snap, his movements jerky, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He stood up, clutching the box to his chest, his eyes closed, his body trembling as if he were fighting a losing battle against an unseen force.

Then, with a sudden burst of movement, he strode towards the refrigerator, grabbing the bottle of wine with a force that made Blair flinch. He poured himself a glass, his hands shaking so badly that some of the wine sloshed over the rim, staining the countertop a dark, ominous red. He drained the glass in a single gulp, the sound echoing through the silent kitchen, the only witness to his silent torment.

Blair watched, hidden in the shadows, her heart aching for him, for the pain she saw reflected in his eyes, for the secret burden he carried. What was he fighting against? What darkness lurked within him?

He set the empty glass on the counter with a sigh, his shoulders slumping with the weight of his unspoken burdens. Then, without a backward glance, he returned to his room, the door closing behind him with a soft click that sounded like the finality of a coffin lid.

Blair remained frozen in the darkness, her mind a swirling vortex of questions and a growing sense of dread. Victor, the man she was falling for, the man she was beginning to trust, was hiding a secret, a dark hunger that terrified her.

"What are you doing here?"

The voice, sharp and unexpected, jolted Blair from her thoughts. She spun around, her heart leaping into her throat, her hand instinctively reaching for the gun she wasn't wearing.

Claudia stood in the doorway, her eyes narrowed, her expression a mix of suspicion and concern. "I heard noises. What's going on? And why are you lurking in the shadows like a creepy stalker?"

"I…" Blair stammered, her mind racing, desperate for a plausible explanation. She couldn't tell Claudia the truth, couldn't burden her with the darkness she'd glimpsed, the fear that clawed at her own heart.

"I was… thirsty," she said finally, her voice a weak attempt at casualness. "Just came down for a glass of water."

But even as she spoke the words, she knew they sounded hollow, unconvincing. Claudia, with her sharp intuition and her unwavering loyalty, deserved more than a lie. But for now, for her own protection, Blair had to keep her secrets, her fears, locked away in the shadows.