Tingling pain crawled across Sylvia's skin as a thousand frantic voices screamed in unison. They demanded only one thing: the Desire that swirled like a burning frost in her gut, luring her towards the land of dreams.
Sylvia cupped her forehead in her palms, tugging gently against her scalp. She enjoyed the temporary relief that came as it eased the dull throbbing in her head. Nothing could distract her from the gnawing in her stomach, rumbling like a distant thunderstorm.
The voices clamored over one another, desperate to be heard.
No one should have to starve.
You didn't ask for this.
They never told you this could happen.
It's their fault. It's on them.
They left you to fend for yourself.
You're not hurting anyone. Just feed.
Feed! Feed! Feed!
"Fuck!"
Sylvia swept everything off the coffee table in one deft swing, shattering the last gift her grandmother had given her, a beautiful glass vase. She heaved a heavy sigh. The dying sunflowers lay wilting in a pool of dirty water on the worn laminate of her living room floor.
A persistent buzz promised the only cure. The only way to ease the pain.
With a scowl Sylvia glanced at the phone to find a call from her best friend, Sergeant Jean-Pierre Cote. Her salvation. The only cop--or person for that matter--in the Greater Boston area who still treated her like a human being. Who hadn't dumped her like trash.
The only one who could make the Need stop.
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