Like Nothing Else
Bright red, when it flowed freely and dark and crusty when it dried, it's abilities never ceased to amaze him.
He lusted after it as he'd never lusted after anything else in his life.
Since he was turned, the red substance had fascinated him. Depending on how fresh it was, it took on different qualities and colours and textures and it's smell was so very intoxicating and coppery and delicious.
It had it's patterns whether on it's journey through veins and arteries in the body or on in the spatters over walls and the ground beneath the victim of a hunt.
It was life.
It was death.
Without it, the planet would be devoid of most of it's current lifeforms.
He needed it like he needed nothing else.