<em>She was so hungry.  She didn't know what time it was, but time didn't really matter now.  Day, night, basic prospects could be handled but she didn't really need to sleep anymore.  It didn't really matter.  All that mattered was the meat, standing close by.  Even as he screamed, it only arose the hunger within him, and as she bit down into his jugular, the feast reminded her of what it used to be like to be alive.</em><br/><br/>She was screaming before she knew it, waking up suddenly from the bed and trembling.  The thick and salty tears blinded her from her surroundings, and the hunger in her stomach was only getting worse.  She needed to eat, but how could she?  Any food she accepted would come from people who were important, who wanted to live and continue, who would make the world a better place.  How could she deprive those people just to stop her own selfish tummy rumblings?<br/><br/>She curled up her legs under her arms to hold herself tight.  She supposed she could hold out for a little longer, make sure the others were safe, maybe take the occasional watch.  When it was time, though, she had to figure out a way to make sure she didn't rise as one of the undead.  One such nightmare was bad enough; being trapped in such an existence, not even being able to die, wasn't something she was willing to even imagine.