As I entered the garage, a hulking figure barreled into me with brute force. The impact sent me staggering back, gasping for breath as I felt a sharp pain in my side. I fell to my knees, cradling my wounded abdomen where the knife had sliced through my coat and skin. But it wasn’t just a simple cut—the fabric of my coat seemed to writhe and twist with a malevolent energy.


    Pain seared through Frank, his words coming out in a sharp hiss. That hurt.


    In an instant, I was on my feet, fueled by Frank''s raw rage flowing through me. My hands curled into fists, ready to unleash their fury upon the goon who stabbed me. The man''s fear was palpable as my fists landed with brutal force, each strike accompanied by a sickening thud.


    Two more hulking goons slithered into the dimly lit garage, their beady eyes trained on me like predators stalking their prey. But as soon as Frank''s commands took over my body, I moved with lethal fluidity, my muscles pulsing with deadly precision. The smirks on their faces quickly faded as they realized they were no match for the possessed man before them.


    They advanced cautiously, but it was too late. In one swift motion, I was upon them, unleashing an onslaught of unbridled strength and ferocity that left them crumpled and lifeless on the cold floor.


    But there was no time to revel in my victory. The sound of gunshots echoed through the garage as I burst through the door leading to the house. I found myself in a chaotic scene, shadows flickering at the corners of my vision. More goons emerged from the darkness, their guns aimed straight at me.


    Without hesitation, I fired back with deadly accuracy, taking one out. The rest charged at me, but I met them head-on using every weapon at my disposal—including the butt of my gun and swift kicks—to incapacitate them. I was feeling strange. Dizzy. Confused. Moving without thinking.


    In a terrifying dance, we moved in perfect sync. Blood spattered across the walls and floor as I fought for my life, each move fueled by rage and survival instinct.


    The hunger gnawed at me, more intense than ever before. It was like a beast inside me, clawing to get out. And when the last goon fell to the ground with a thud, the hunger overwhelmed me. Before I realized what I was doing, I was on him, teeth sinking into his flesh. The taste of blood was both revolting and intoxicating. I couldn’t stop myself, my instincts overriding my reason.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Jack! What are you doing? Frank’s voice was a distant murmur in the haze.


    Blood dripped from my mouth, the goon''s flesh torn where I bit him.


    Jack! For heaven''s sake, this is disgusting. I demand you stop this right now.


    I slipped further away. There was a pause as Frank assessed me. When he spoke next, his tone was firmer, a steadying force.


    Focus, Jack. Don''t let whatever this is control you.


    I felt Frank forcing his way into my mind; a lighthouse in the storm. I focused on it.


    With immense effort, I tore myself away from the goon, forcing the primal urge back down. My stomach still clawed at me. Horror and disgust washed over me. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, trying to steady my breathing. “Thanks, Frank,” I muttered, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and revulsion.


    Oh Jack... what have you become? Frank’s voice carried a rare note of concern.


    “Take a look for yourself,” I said, opening my mind and memories fully to him.


    There was a pause and then Frank spoke again, realization dawning. Why didn’t you tell me?


    “The smell didn’t give it away?” I asked.


    I thought you were just getting old. In all fairness, it''s not too different from your usual smell.


    “You didn’t notice the lack of a beating heart?” I snorted. “Wait, don’t answer that.”


    We need to talk about this.


    “Later. Right now, we need to find Cali.”


    I sprinted towards Murphy''s sleek black car. I fumbled with the hot-wiring as my hands shook in hunger. The engine roared to life just as gunfire erupted behind us. I slammed my foot on the accelerator; the tires screeching as we tore through the garage door in a shower of splintered wood and twisted metal, leaving behind the destruction.


    Frank''s torn fabric slowly stitched itself back together.


    We headed for Cali’s, taking several loops and doubling back to make sure no one was following me.