It had been a week since I had been locked away. Pitch had continually injected me with that purple stuff to ensure I stayed to drowsy to hurt him or escape. They hadn't fed me once, and I could no longer sleep for fear of not waking up until I was nourished. If I fell asleep, I would probably turn completely and go crazy, attacking the walls and howling, using too much of my dwindling energy. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I pushed the cuffs up my arms, revealing the pulsing veins in my wrists, and my fangs dropped down, my eyes turning into cat eyes, and I licked my lips. I glanced between the two arms, at the chafed and blistered skin, almost already bleeding. I accepted the fact I was going to need new clothes and glanced down at my body, wondering of it was really worth it. One look confirmed it. I was all skin and bones, barely any substance to myself. I took a deep breath and lifted my left wrist to my mouth hesitantly, not knowing if I could stop myself once I started. I gave in to the ceaseless growling in my gut, closed my eyes, and bit down, not feeling any pain, and I drank deeply. It felt so good to be nourished again, and I gulped mouthful after mouthful of my own blood.

"What are you doing? Are you insane?" A voice rang through my clouded thoughts, and my wrist was roughly yanked away from my mouth. "Stop it! You're going to kill yourself!"

I growled and whined and howled, lashing out and trying to bring my food source back, not fully myself until lips presses themselves to mine and my fangs shrunk away, my eyes returning to normal. They pulled away and I held my wrist to my stomach, bleeding my right wrist onto my left to stop it. I then smeared my right side blood onto the new wound and looked up at the person, my vision slightly blurry. "Thanks." I blinked until they came into focus. I breathed deeply, and since I drank too much of my own blood, I almost passed out from blood loss.

It was Jet, and he looked furious. "Are you crazy? What were you doing?"

My speech was slurred. "What did it look like I was doing? I was feeding."

"Why? Why not just eat?"

"Bitch never gave me food. Whoops, I meant Pitch. I'm not really myself, as you can probably tell." I waved my arms expansively. "I need blood. Or food. I need something to eat, or drink, or absorb. I can survive off my own blood, but not when I get ravenous like that." I examined my wrist. Definitely broken. I cursed and tore off the bottom half of my shirt, coating it in bloody spit and wrapping it around my wrist. "Why are you here?"

"To check on you."

"Oh."

It was silent for a few minutes.

Jet sighed, then sat next to me. The vein in his neck throbbed, driving me crazy. He tossed his head to the side, exposing his neck. "Here. Just- just try not to drain me too badly, okay?" He was clearly afraid, but he was acting brave, which I admired.

"No. I'm not that desperate."

"The other day you were threatening me with it. And now you were drinking your own blood. Father isn't going to go out and get food any time soon, so this is your best option." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "Just do it before I change my mind."

"Jet-"

"Do it already!"

I jumped slightly. "I'll bite your wrist. Okay?" He just offered up his arm, straightening his neck. "This will pinch a little, and it'll feel weird." I carefully bit into the vein, drinking just enough to restore myself so I could make myself more blood. I pulled away, careful not to tear his wrist up more, and licked my thumb. I ran it over his wrist, but nothing happened, and I cursed. I forgot my spit only heals me. I cautiously sliced the tip of my right forefinger with my fang, careful not to taste any, and smeared the blood over the tiny pinpricks in his arm that were barely bleeding, the skin repairing itself. "All done. You can look now."

"That- actually wasn't as bad as I thought I would be." He looked at his wrist. "Hey, no marks?"

I shook my head. "Nope, there's an anticoagulant in my fangs to stop the blood from clotting, but when I pull away it seals up, since they're magical wounds. No trace." I leaned back, my head throbbing from eating, unused to having to digest stuff even though it was only liquid anyway.

"Will I turn into a vampire?"

I almost laughed. "No. I didn't try to make you a vampire, so you aren't. It's all in the intention of the biter."

"You make it all sound so, normal. Like it's an everyday thing for you."

"Because it is. It hasn't for a while, but it is." I scraped a fingernail along the floor, tracing runes into the blood and grime. "You should get going. Thanks, by the way. You didn't have to."

"No problem. Should I come back later, if you're hungry again, or...?"

"No, I'll be good for the next week. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

Jet hugged me quickly, then stood and walked to the door.

"You should probably go take a shower, before my blood kicks in and starts burning."

"Later, Lav." He opened the door again and locked it behind him as I looked down at myself reluctantly. I slid my top off best I could with the shackles on and licked the blood off it, then used it to sop up the still-wet blood on the floor, drinking that too. I didn't even care that it was dirty, I just needed more blood. I hadn't told Jet, but I hadn't taken nearly as much blood as I needed; I would need to drain several dozen humans dry before I was fully replenished. In the meantime, I could only shrink or grow a couple of inches, and I couldn't change to animals, only a vampire. There was some kind of magic in the restraints.

I curled up into a ball and shrunk as small as I could go, closing my eyes and resting so my body could get to work repairing itself.