Cain staggered along the path, each step heavier than the last, pain lancing through his skull and chest as the hunger inside him coiled tighter. The academy grounds had long since fallen behind him, swallowed by the night, and his vision tunneled down to the nearest building. Without thinking, instinct guided him. He knew where he needed to go. He knew who could help.
The teachers' dorm loomed before him, a squat, brick building with windows dark save for the faint glow of a single room. Cain's limbs burned, but his steps carried him forward with an urgency he could barely comprehend. The hunger roared inside him, tearing through every rational thought, leaving only instinct and need.
He reached the door and slammed a fist against it, the sound loud and sharp in the quiet night. Pain radiated through his body with every movement, but he barely noticed, driven by the insistent, gnawing command that had taken root inside him.
