New year, new me.

I've been saying that at every turn of the annual page since I can remember. Resolutions are made and discarded like wrapping paper, torn into ragged strips and thrown into the bin. They were always a useless tradition. Made half heartedly with no intention of being kept.

So why do it?

Because, at that moment, you can ignore the insincerity and pretend cutting down on full fat, full cream bars of chocolate is something you'll definitely do. It's a small victory in the fight to be a better person. A new you.

And, of course, it's bollocks.

Or, it was. Now, however, I've decided to keep to it. Be resolute in my resolution. It's a new year, and there's going to be a damn new damn me, damn it! That was as far as I got, though. The wrapping paper was crumpled, rather than shredded, and I couldn't quite decide exactly how I was going to achieve this transformation. To do so, I needed to know what I actually wanted to change. I'd already cut down on the sweet cocoa-based delicacies. I only had one alcoholic drink per week. Oh, sorry, that's per day – but just the one. A little tot of bourbon with some Coke, and the zero sugar variety, too. That's almost healthy. I didn't smoke, mostly due to the fact both my parents went through 60 a day each, so I pretty much had my fill when they were alive.

So, what else was there?

Then I saw the ad. It was on Facebook, so it had to be genuine. It only caught my eye because it used the 'new blah, blah, blah' phrase, and I'd been muttering it to myself earlier in the day. Not that our phones and social media are listening to us. I mean, as if.

So, it piqued my curiosity. I had to take a look to see what false hopes they were peddling. The ad was surprisingly understated. It didn't shove a solution down my retinas and into my bank account. It simply said what it had to. Succinct. Quietly phrased. Relaxed.

We can help, it said, in its own way. Up to you if you want to accept that help. We don't mind. We won't force you.

I suppose that is a clever marketing technique. They lure you in by pretending they're not. It felt real, however. And, in lieu of anything more concrete, I signed up. It didn't cost much. What was a couple of hundred quid between friends? Or, at least, between a company and their adorning public.

Three days ago, that was. The package arrived this morning. It's an injection and, though the needle is tiny, I still held it a few centimetres away from my thigh for twenty minutes. Well, it's now or never, I told myself. Grow a pair of those bollocks I mentioned.

I pushed it against my skin and wondered, briefly, if I'd missed. I couldn't feel anything. No stab. No sharp pain. I relaxed. This wasn't so bad. I was being a baby for nothing.

I pressed the button on the end that injected the solution. That's when I realised the phrase 'no pain, no gain' was created for that moment. I screamed as my entire leg turned bright red, bringing the agony of fire with it. I screamed again as the colour spread to envelop my entire body, and I felt as if lightning was coursing through me.

What had I done? What was this doing? Was the price of the new the scorching of the old?

I collapsed onto my knees, allowing the injection to fall from my grip. Through eyes dulling, I saw a single drop of blood bubble from the invisible hole. Bubble, as if boiling.

It's dark outside now. I think I must have passed out. My head is throbbing but, thankfully, the fire in me is extinguished. I crawl to the bathroom and pull myself up by the sink so I can see my reflection.

Nothing has changed. I look exactly the same. I've wasted £200 for nothing. For agony. For stupid...

Wait. My eyes. They're... they're glowing. My cheeks. They appear to be tightening. I press my fingers against my face, and they slide, dragging the flesh with them. It slips away, and I pull at more and more.

Unwrapping myself.

Something is in my mouth and I spit it out. A tooth, followed by another. I pull at one and it comes away easily. I cough and the rest clatter into the porcelain bowl. Again, I look into the mirror, opening my mouth wide.

New teeth are pushing through my gums. They're bright and extremely sharp. I run my tongue over them, and wince as it's pierced easily. The blood tastes... wonderful.

I straighten and look down. The remainder of my flesh lies at my feet, and I can see my body being covered by a new membrane. Purer. Hardier.

I breath in, and can smell, well, everything. The world. The people. The succulent, wondrous people. Their delicious blood.

New year. A whole new me.