When he looked over his prey, laying in the grass and seeing it still moving in minor ways, Alex’s conscience felt shattered. If not borderline schizophrenic. Several emotions pulled at him at once, leaving him no idea how to feel most at any one time.
Upset that he had just killed a live animal with his bare hands?
Pleased that he would be able to enjoy some fresh meat?
Angry that he’d been forced into this position at all because of some other monster?
Fearful of every perceptive possibility that could result from him doing this?
His nearly empty stomach, and the taste of blood on his fangs, quickly reminded him of why he had done this in the first place: To stave off the possibility of losing control over himself and killing an innocent person. Or something far worse than that. Whether that fear was founded or not made little difference at this point. The deed was done. He couldn’t take it back.
“Maybe venison is tasty raw.” Alex thought, looking over his catch and trying to cheer himself up. His stomach growled again, ruining that attempt. Bringing his head close to the doe’s stomach, with both paws on its body and smelling the scents of its fur, he closed his eyes again. Regardless of the difference it made in how he felt, he bit into the doe’s chest and got a piece of it.
Starting with the muscle of the animal, his jaws could easily rip huge chunks free of it, but they were not suited for chewing those same bits. He had to take nips of the flesh and soon, the exposed organs. Actions that wrenched his conscience every time he did them.
As he continued to eat from his kill, that feeling began to evaporate. Not enough that he felt pleasure from the deed, but enough that it didn’t make him feel as disturbed doing it.
Trying to maintain a neutral outlook on this, Alex tried to take in the taste of the live animal meat. How good it was compared to everything else he had eaten all day. If not most of his life. There was nothing in the way of sodium in the taste, the meat was warm and soft, and it was filling. Easily more than the hamburger he’d eaten throughout the day and last night.
When he could take no further bites, Alex felt secure enough stash the carcass and head home. Trying not to look at the remains, he stashed them at the edge of the nearby lake. Behind a tree and near some shrubs. Stepping back, he couldn’t see it from beyond the tree line and smiled. That would do, and if anyone found it, he was in the clear.
Licking his muzzle and paws, Alex returned home to find Bailey asleep in his room, not moving as he came inside. At least until he caught the scent of blood from his fur. Locking him out of the bathroom, Alex washed the bloodstains off his paws and muzzle, the white fur there making it easy to tell he’d gotten it all.
Feeling his emotions surrounding what he’d done start to surface once again, he fought back the urge to cry or get emotional. He was stronger than that, and he’d done this for a reason.
Once back in his room, he wasted no time trying to sleep to make sure his stomach wouldn’t bother him again. As he drifted off to sleep, and gave the event time to sink in, he slowly began to realize that he had enjoyed doing what he had to a degree. Self-preservation or not.