Fics like Moribund Memories

Was he beginning to develop a fear of the colour red? If only he could live in only black and white, as cold and unchanging as a photograph. A perfect representation of the good man he once was, not this corpse that dragged his name in puddles of blood. He wished he could be remembered as a doctor murdered and made a martyr for trying to help. His death had been written before he was born, and now he had been chosen for a second chance at life. At least, that is what he was trying to convince himself. It was not working. Bite the hand that beats him. The incessant need to feed drove him to the dark alleyway, staring at little bundles of red running in seemingly random patterns and shapes. His claws were out stretched, patiently waiting at his side like a feline choosing his next meal. He wished these were nightmares, but they were far too real. Symptoms of a sickness of the brain not yet revealed. Fingers curling on their own he found himself grasping his scalp this time, claws sinking into his skin. His knees shook, hardly able to support his weight while his feet kept driving him forward. The slightest sense of preservation directed him to hide, to get away from this place.

Fics like Moribund Memories

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