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...was he anything short of a monster?
probably not, at least in his own opinion. as far as things went with the vampire, he was twisted. his very being was disgusting, tainted, his state of mind not even in the right most of the time. and to top it off, at the end o every month, the full moon shined brightly, sharpening his senses, heightening his aggression, making his list for blood at its peak. and yet he isolated himself, from lily, from sutton, from crow, will, and maggie as well as everyone else he knew. most of all, he his himself from mikasa, or hardcandy as she went by now. lots of times, he locked himself in his coffin and willed his super strength not to work, and when the moon hit the highest spot that it would in the sky, he would band on the lid, screeching and screeching as if someone would hear him and let him out. but in the back of his mind, he knew that he was the one who had done thus to himself. he knew that it was the very improper action of himself that had him in there, away from many things such as his knife or the key he constantly wore around his neck.
other times, subaru would teleport to a rose garden full of the flowers that were touched with no color but for white. he knew that he had to let out his fury some way, and that it always worked to let his gaze cloud as he unintentionally blacked out into a spitting rage, by the time he was done the garden destroyed beyond revival point. and yet in three months' time it was all fixed again, new ones planted and ready to feel his wrath once more. he didn't know if they were there to taunt him, but he always found some sort of solace within utterly destroying something that felt so pure to most people. and he always thought about the meaning behind a wilted rose, that thought alone the trigger to his bursts of rage.
and then there was the distaste he felt when he actually did go out to get blood, because this was one of the last options he had. when he was weak with thirst, his paws and body shaking from not drinking in so long, that was the day he committed accidental muder, his super strength doing many different things depending on occasion. one time he had crushed a small loner. another time he had tried to pin one down, and their refusal to be sucked had ended up in him breaking their neck. others weren't let off so easily. they had to go through the agony of having every last drop of the metallic substance drained out of their very being, but at least anemia had them unconscious for the worst part of it. the taste of their blood even after that was so disgusting that he couldn't help but do something that he had only done once before in front of former tribe mates of his.
that, of course, would be to immediately rid himself of everything he had ingested, before the next day came and he was unable to move or speak without gagging and having nausea. if he didn't throw it back up, he couldn't try to seem at least halfway decent around the clanmates that didn't know this side of him. they didn't have to know that he was really the worst of them all. they only knew him as the 'grumpy' or 'quiet' guy, but that was not the truth. he was angry, irritated, and always ready to get into a scuffle. ready to suck blood but also to earn it, even if he liked to press things, since he was a very eager type of person. and he couldn't really help that, but he knew that this secret couldn't be hidden for long.
for it was on this very day (or night), that the light of such an aforementioned full moon to be shining brightly in the sky, and the feline would be panting, his own bloodstained underbelly, paws, and mouth considered nothing to the body that was under him. his eyes were wide and his breathing quick. he'd done it again.... what would he do? there was no one here that he could blame, no one but himself. in his mouth was his silver knife, so far unscathed and untattered with the thick red liquid that splattered all around him. he hadn't used it yet, since it wasn't really smart to use it on something stupid like a loner. no, such a knife was for killing people like him. monsters. vampires. he was utterly ashamed. and panicking. this was a huge problem, and he didn't have the time, the powers, or the power in numbers to clean up. he couldn't blame it on ayato this time. he could only say it was he himself that felt bad, that felt angry, enough to kill a wanderer that no one knew.
this was all his fault. everything was.
/i typed this on mobile, so please excuse any mistakes (: