Forever, I have relished the smell of blood. Is that strange, reader? Well, I am strange! I used to alarm myself, for the things I'm drawn to are, frankly, bizarre. I'll give you a foretaste: forests, where trees grow so tightly and thickly together, they shut out all light; abattoirs, where the taste of freshly-slaughtered flesh hangs in the air; desolate moors, where there's nowhere for the hunted to hide.
I didn't understand myself, reader, and then, one fateful eve, a fearsome howl burst forth from my soul and mouth...and then the sky grew darker, I saw the moon and knew, at last, what I was.
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