I denounce my body.
Is the first commandment. You are but fertile ground for the red plague: let it inside you, let it become you.
I denounce my bonds.
Is the second. Forget your past, forget your family and friends. Those things have no meaning.
I embrace my thirst.
Is the third. It will be all you know.
She licks the warm, sticky gore from her hands, trembling as it slides down her throat.
She looks at the flesh that lies around her, broken, torn and hollow. It had names yesterday. She had family yesterday.
Today she has the plague.
(originally written for Lily Childs' Friday Prediction)