#vtm:da

By Freya, I need release. I am writing on a scrap of paper that Tomacsz gave me. I need to do something to take away the itch under my skin. That feeling like fur scraping across my body has reached the point that it is the only thing that I can think of. It is doing my mind in. My stomach is an ache and my throat dry. Hel damnit! I can't take this much longer.

Twice I have found myself at the door of the slave quarters, desperate and needy for a taste. It has been a long time since I was so hungry. The wound is gone I don't know why I thought that it would stay and I could keep the blood for when I needed it. Our bodies, though changed are still bound by human laws. How do I stop a wound from healing in sleep? You can't and now I am desperately hungry.

I have sequestered myself. I dare not leave the cabin in case...in case I lose it. For many years I have dodged the Beast but it is there just under the surface. When I dream it is there. Claws and blood, teeth and gore. Soft flesh giving way to the torrent underneath...

Think about something else, Astrid!

I still can't believe we were attacked in the daytime of our own haven. It happened when I was human, sure but the women and I always drove them off. I feel...vulnerable? Not only did they come into my abode, they did it whilst we were prone in bed. I distinctly remember the noises from the lower landing. Muffled voices, gruff and stern like steel across an anvil. These were no human servants of the Prince. They were coming for us.

The Beast was with me in an instant and I called for our dogs. There were thirteen of them, including Danger, I wonder if there are any left? Did they survive or have they gone feral away from our blood for so long. The hounds only gave us a few moments to rise admist the chaos of blood and howls. I remember stepping out to see a gang of those bastards marching up the stairs.

With a crack that sounded like Thor's hammer, Beatrix flew from the room, only a mere hair's breadth from Jurgen. She ran and I knew in that moment that this was a fight to the death. Jurgen went down though I saw no wound. There wasn't a lot of room between them and I. My claws grew, almost of their own volition. I was tired, I could barely move. The sun was sapping my strength it seemed. I was aware of the walls behind me, before I mis-stepped, barely pulling my legs forward. It was no use, I couldn't ignore the call of the sun. The last thing I saw was the stake but felt nothing.

The dreams during that time. So vivid, yet I remember little. I remember dreaming of red flowing blood and the Beast. She is ever present at the moment, clawing sharp nails into my arms and legs. I feel her stalk me and then it's gone into some stupid memory. I see my boys fishing in the river. Hall coming home from a raid. My father's eye's soft over a meal I had made. The edges are blurred and I can't quite make out the little details I used to find so dear. Their memory doesn't tear at me quite so hard.

The next moment I remember looking into the wise, calm eyes of Tomacz. My mind didn't register that he had been gone for weeks. He seemed more worn since the last time I had seen him and he held that damned stake in his hands. Saul was there too with a matching hole in his chest. There was a dark space of memory gone from the moment I fell until then. I was taken by how much our coffins looked like a grave. Our important items placed next to us was somewhat unsettling as was helping my comrades from such a state.

The crew of the ship were the varied and wild. Tzimice, Nosferatu and many fellow Gangrel. Though there was a female I couldn't stop looking at. She is my greatest fear. That day when my iron will breaks I will become more Bestial. I temper my Beast. I stop it, push it down and dominate it like a feral cat or an unbroken stallion. It is the only way.

Warriors and Beserkers are honoured in my tradition but it is a step too far for me. I can not bare losing the vestiges of my humanity. I feel it coil in me, the dread, that one day it's not going to be enough. The angry mountain cat inside me with burst forth and I am afraid for what I will do. The female Gangrel – she clearly basks in the Beast's form and finds it comforting.

I can not separate what I was – a mother, the daughter of a Jarl, a wife to a fierce Warrior. I have a sharp tongue yes but I was patient, calm, willing to go the extra mile. I was no Shield Maiden. Not a Beast. Not a monster. I am just a woman, still. Aren't I?

The past fifteen years since Angmundr created me the Beast has gotten stronger, wilder. Before I could not see it I could just feel it in my chest, heavy almost like a great fear. Those two years on my own – I felt dead. I didn't want to feel anything. I just fed on deer, wolves and the occasional human. Never killing. I didn't allow myself hunger, or companionship. Then Severin taught me how to trick humans. To hunt more fervently and with him the Beast grew into something almost tangible. I could feel her, the fur, the teeth, the claws.

Truly it has not been until I went to Genoa that I understood what it was to be Gangrel. I can see her. The cat in me. The feline who is strong and swift but who has a fierceness that cannot be controlled. The line between her and I are blurred. She is a part of me, hidden and frightful. A part of me does not want her. Yet, within her is a great strength and did the gods not change into beasts? Is it something to covet?