Contact High, second draft

A Story by Adalia

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He was exactly the kind of person I needed at the time, the kind of person I could trust with anything and I also knew that I could manipulate him.

I spoke eloquently each time we exchanged conversation. I kept him on his toes with my vocabulary, which I needed to use a thesaurus for.

I intrigued him.

I needed him for my own benefit.

I sucked his energy. I used him as my power source. He was so weak, and he let me in so easily that I just took away everything from him. It was so simple.

As I became stronger, he became physically ill. I ate away all of his happiness. Yet he constantly told me that he was in a good mood- because I was with him.

He didn't notice that I was the source of his sickness.

It gave me a high. A thrill. A rush. To be significantly more powerful than him, a mortal, was a feeling I had only experienced in little bursts, with animals and smaller creatures.

One day, I didn't notice just how ill he was. Took too much from him that he died right there on the spot.

You know, I'd like to say I was sorry.

But I'm not.

At least I brought him back to life as my minion now. He's the same person he was, he still functions. Still a normal person. No one knows he's actually dead.

God. I always dreamed of being this powerful.